Each bride stood before the court while hostile questions were read aloud.
For Yselle:
“House Marrow has no male heir. Your creditors circle like wolves. Your mother rules because no man survived to claim the seat. If you fail here, three banking consortiums will divide your lands before spring. Does desperation make you suitable, or simply desperate?”
Yselle’s voice was ice.
“Desperation would make me beg. Discipline makes me useful. The distinction matters to governance, even if it escapes those who confuse stability with inheritance accidents.”
The court appreciated the sharpness.
For Tavi:
“Your house survives by marrying daughters into stronger families and sending sons to die in border skirmishes. You are a spare offered because better options were already spent. Does military sacrifice make you worthy, or merely expendable?”
Tavi’s jaw flexed.
“Expendable women do not survive eight trials. Worthy women do. The realm can decide which matters more when the next war requires bodies the council is unwilling to risk.”
Brutal.
Honest.
The court shifted uncomfortably.
Lady Celith was asked about a disputed dowry, her mother’s second marriage, and a cousin who had fled a betrothal. By the third question, she was trembling so badly the clerk had to repeat himself. She answered, but the answers fell apart in her mouth. When she stepped back, her face had gone gray.
Then Sabine.
The clerk read slowly.
“Lady Sabine Corvyr entered these trials to save a collapsing house. Her family is one administrative order from dissolution. A forged letter suggested she planned to flee with Prince Lucien before final selection. A cordial from temple stores incapacitated another bride in her chamber. The bond has shown irregular progression. Multiple sources cite excessive intimacy. Does corruption make you chosen, or simply useful to a prince known for dangerous attachments?”
The room held its breath.
Sabine looked at Serast.
Then at the clerk.
Then at the court.
“A forged note appears where only watchers could place it. A cordial from temple stores incapacitates another bride. And the conclusion offered is my instability, not temple access. That tells this court more about the investigation than it does about me.”
Corvek’s expression did not change, but his pen moved.
Recording.
Sabine continued.
“The bond has progressed because the rite responds to language older than the version currently enforced. I revised the vow in the Trial of Surrender. The chamber accepted. Corvek recorded passage. Queen Mother Ilyra countersigned. If that is irregular, then the irregularity belongs to the system, not to me.”
She paused.
“As for excessive intimacy, the palace may call intimacy corruption when it cannot control the terms. I call it choice. The distinction matters when the Tenth Vow will ask me to disappear.”
The room erupted.
Serast rose. “Lady Sabine.”
