Chapter 10 · The Blood Hearing

They didn't give me a chair.

I stood in the center of the judgment circle, five months pregnant and swaying on my feet, while the Council of Pureblood Lords sat on their thrones above me. The stone floor was cold enough to feel through my slippers. My back ached. The baby kicked, hard, like it knew we were in trouble.

Dorian stood to the side, near the dais. Not with me. Not with them. Somewhere in between, exactly where he'd been since I threw that bone token at his chest three nights ago.

"Iris Wren." High Lord Castor's voice echoed off the vaulted ceiling. He was old, even for a vampire. White hair, bloodless lips, eyes like frozen mud. "You stand accused of carrying a child of uncertain lineage. Under Section Nine of the Succession Law, any woman claiming to bear a royal heir must submit to the Blood Testimony. Do you consent?"

I didn't look at Dorian. "Do I have a choice?"

"No." Castor smiled. It didn't reach his eyes. "But we prefer the illusion of civility."

Seraphine sat in the gallery, draped in midnight silk, her hands folded like she was watching a play.