Chapter 23 · The Witness Who Believes the Lie

The maid's hands were shaking. Not from fear. From certainty.

"I saw you," she said again, louder this time. "I saw you hand the vial to the courier. It was you."

Wantang stood three feet away, the residue bottle still warm in her pocket. The interrogation room was small, stone, no windows. A single lamp threw shadows up the walls. Dawn was maybe five hours out. Maybe less. The Ash Court guards had given her twenty minutes. Rowan had bought her that much by invoking some frontier contract clause she didn't understand and didn't have time to ask about.

Twenty minutes to crack a witness who believed every word she was saying.

"I'm not calling you a liar," Wantang said. She kept her voice level. Neutral. The same tone she'd used on jumpers, on hostage-takers, on people whose reality had bent so far they couldn't see the edge anymore. "I need you to walk me through it. Slow. From the beginning."

The maid's name was Ellyn Marsh. Mid-thirties, third-year palace service, assigned to the queen's correspondence hall. She'd been the crown's star witness in the preliminary depositions.