Chapter 70
The doors of the Council Hall opened with a slow, deliberate groan.
Jordan and I stepped inside together.
The noise from the courtyard died instantly behind us.
I had expected a courtroom.
Instead...
I walked into history.
The chamber stretched wider than Raven Hollow's Great Auditorium. Black marble pillars rose towards a vaulted ceiling painted with silver wolves beneath a blood-red moon. Ancient banners bearing the insignia of the Seven Houses hung solemnly from either side, their colours faded by centuries.
The floor itself was engraved.
Not with flowers.
Not with patterns.
With words.
Entire paragraphs of the Tishian Treaty had been carved into the black stone, so that every person entering the chamber literally walked upon the law.
At the far end stood seven towering chairs carved from obsidian.
The High Council.
They were already seated.
Between them rested a silver crescent table polished so brightly that it reflected the entire hall.
Behind them...
An enormous painting covered almost the entire wall.
A werewolf.
A human woman.
Flames.
Soldiers.
Blood.
Jean and Furla.
Beneath the painting, carved in gold, were the words:
LOVE BEGAN THE WAR.
THE TREATY PRESERVED THE PEACE.
I couldn't tear my eyes away.
So...
That was the story they taught every child.
"Keep moving," Percy murmured.
I obeyed.
Rows upon rows of spectators filled the galleries.
Professors.
Students.
Council officials.
Journalists scribbling furiously.
Cameras had been prohibited inside, yet dozens of courtroom artists were already sketching us with astonishing speed.
I recognized faces.
Beth.
Tears brimmed in her eyes.
Peach sat beside Cassidy, her pink hair impossible to miss even from this distance.
Cassidy offered me a tiny smile.
Principal Scavenger looked as though he had aged ten years overnight.
Derrick Vale stood with folded arms.
His expression remained unreadable.
Further back...
The members of Bloodstone Records occupied an entire row.
None of them smiled.
None of them looked away from Jordan.
Moira Files stood beside the chamber entrance in full Deputy Sheriff uniform.
Duty had stolen whatever softness motherhood had left her.
Jordan finally released my hand.
The absence of his warmth was immediate.
Percy stepped forward with me.
Across the chamber, another figure rose gracefully from her seat.
She wore a sharply tailored black suit beneath a long charcoal robe trimmed in silver. Her dark hair was gathered into a flawless knot, exposing striking features sharpened by intelligence rather than beauty alone.
The entire gallery seemed to notice her at once.
Even the reporters stopped whispering.
Jordan inclined his head wistfully.
"Counsel."
She returned the gesture.
"Mr. Files."
Her voice was smooth.
Measured.
Controlled.
Her eyes shifted briefly toward me.
There was no hostility in them.
Only calculation.
Then they rested upon Percy.
Recognition flickered.
"Percy Network."
"Seraphine Velos."
"I've read your submissions before the International Tribunal."
Percy smiled faintly.
"I was hoping you hadn't."
"I rarely forget good arguments."
"And I rarely forget the lawyers who destroy mine."
For the briefest instant...
The corners of Seraphine's mouth lifted.
Professionals acknowledging professionals.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
She turned to Jordan.
"I'll stand to your right."
He nodded.
She said nothing further.
If she disapproved of him walking in beside me...
She kept it to herself.
A man wearing deep crimson robes rose from a desk positioned below the Council.
He looked neither young nor old.
Merely severe.
His silver spectacles rested low upon a narrow nose, and every movement he made possessed unnerving precision.
He opened an enormous leather ledger.
"The matter before the High Council of Tish."
His voice carried effortlessly through the chamber.
"The White Colony..."
He paused.
"...versus Jordan Elias Files..."
"...and Night Persephone Carter."
My stomach tightened.
So this was really happening.
The seven councillors remained motionless.
Until...
The man seated at the centre slowly stood.
Age had bent his shoulders but not his authority.
His white robes fell heavily to the floor.
His eyes swept across the chamber with frightening calm.
Every person immediately rose.
Including the lawyers.
Including the guards.
Including us.
The old man rested both hands upon the silver table.
"I am High Chancellor Magnus Blackwood."
His voice was quiet.
The hall somehow became quieter still.
"This Council convenes under the authority vested in it by the Tishian Treaty."
His gaze settled first on Jordan.
Then on me.
"You stand accused of violating Article Nine."
The crimson-robed clerk continued reading.
"Knowingly engaging in an intimate and romantic relationship between a werewolf citizen of the White Colony and a human of the Black Colony. Conduct prohibited under the Tishian Treaty. Punishable by death."
No one moved.
No one breathed.
The Chancellor looked toward Jordan.
"Mr. Files."
Jordan lifted his chin with that proud nonchalance.
"How do you answer this charge?"
I felt Seraphine shift almost imperceptibly beside him.
Waiting.
The entire chamber seemed to lean forward.
Jordan spoke.
"With the truth."
A murmur spread through the gallery.
The Chancellor raised one hand.
Silence returned.
"Then speak it."
Jordan's voice never wavered.
"I love Night Carter."
The chamber erupted.
Gasps.
Whispers.
Someone cried aloud.
The Chancellor struck the silver table once.
Order returned.
His eyes turned toward me.
"Miss Carter."
My pulse thundered against my ribs.
"Do you dispute Mr. Files' statement?"
I looked across the chamber.
Into Jordan's eyes.
Then back to the Council.
"No."
I heard my own voice echo.
"I love him too."
This time the uproar was worse.
The courtroom artists dropped their pencils.
Students shot to their feet.
Somebody shouted,
"They've admitted it!"
Another yelled,
"Execute them!"
The High Chancellor remained perfectly still until the noise slowly faded.
His ancient eyes lingered on us both.
Then...
He spoke.
"Very well."
His fingers folded neatly together.
"Since both defendants admit to the relationship..."
He looked first at Seraphine.
Then at Percy.
"...this Council shall concern itself with only one remaining question."
The silence became suffocating.
His gaze settled on Jordan.
"Was your consent freely given..."
His eyes moved to me.
"...or was it obtained through the influence of a Dark Magian?"