Chapter 28 · Before the Contract Burns

The contract was dying.

Wantang could feel it the second she stepped out of the witness circle. The parchment in Rowan's inner pocket—the one they'd signed thirty days ago—was warming. Not metaphorically. Actually warming. She'd felt it through her palm when he'd steadied her arm after Gareth Lowe's testimony collapsed.

Rowan felt it too. His jaw was tight. His hand hadn't left the spot over his heart where the contract sat folded against his chest.

Sephra stood at the center of the Ash Court floor, her white tribunal robes pristine, her face blank. She hadn't moved since Wantang tore apart Gareth's timeline. The crowd in the gallery was still buzzing. Milo Quinn sat frozen in the apothecary section, hands knotted in his lap. He looked like he wanted to run.

The Lord Ember, the hooded figure on the high bench, raised one gloved hand. The flame in the brass dish at the center of the floor flared.

"The messenger's testimony is void," the Ember said. His voice was flat, but it carried. "The Court acknowledges interference. However."

Wantang's stomach dropped.

"However," the Ember repeated, "the contract bride's reprieve was conditional. Thirty days to prove innocence or produce the true agent.