Chapter 16 · The Soul That Doesn't Belong

The murmur in the gallery went sharp the second Rowan sat down.

Wantang felt it before she heard it—a shift in the air, the way you know someone's staring at the back of your neck. The evidence clerk's blank face had done its job. A dead man's signature meant the vial had been planted, and planted badly. But Sephra wasn't moving. She stood at the high table with her hands flat on the stone, head tilted, watching Wantang the way a jeweler checks a cracked gem.

"Interesting," Sephra said.

One word. It landed like a knife.

Wantang kept her face smooth. "The evidence log speaks for itself, Envoy. The vial was tampered with before it ever reached this court."

"Oh, I'm not concerned with the vial anymore." Sephra's smile didn't move. "I'm concerned with you."

The air in the hall went still.

Rowan stood. "Envoy—"

"Sit down, Lord Vale." Sephra didn't look at him. Her eyes stayed locked on Wantang. "Your contract bride just dismantled a royal investigator's testimony. Tell me, Lady Vey—