"Kneel, Mara Quill."
The executioner slammed a hand into my shoulder.
My knees hit the tribunal floor. Pain split through the skin beneath my trousers, and laughter rolled through the gallery.
Officers. Reporters. Men who'd already decided I was guilty and showed up to watch the rope prove them right.
I kept one hand locked around the iron case chained to my wrist.
"Take it from her," Chancellor Voss ordered.
A guard reached for the case.
I twisted and drove my elbow into his ribs. Then I dragged the case against my chest.
"Touch it, and I break the lock."
The guard froze.
Voss leaned over the high bench. "You don't have the key."
"No. But I know where the failsafe sits. One hard hit, and the evidence burns."
The room went dead quiet.
The case was small enough to carry under one arm. No hinges. No visible seam. Three black locks sat across the lid.
I had built two of them myself.
The third had appeared after the train explosion, when half the Northern Rail command went up in smoke and every surviving officer needed someone to blame.
They blamed me.
Evidence engineer Mara Quill. Saboteur. Traitor. The woman who supposedly planted the charge under Car Seven, then stole the proof before the wreckage cooled.
The problem was, I'd found the proof.
The bigger problem?
It was inside the case.
And if the tribunal opened it, my younger brother would hang with me.
"You murdered one hundred and twelve passengers," Voss said. "You destroyed military property and sold rail schedules to the enemy. Any last statement before we name you traitor?"
"Yeah. Your numbers are wrong."
A murmur moved through the gallery.
I lifted my chin. "There were one hundred and thirteen passengers. You forgot the engineer's wife."
A reporter stopped writing.
I smiled without showing my teeth. "If you're going to kill me in public, at least count the bodies right."
The side doors slammed open.
Every head turned.
Officer Dorian Vale strode in wearing a black Northern Rail coat. One glove hung from his belt. Sweat darkened his collar, and a thin cut marked the corner of his mouth.
He looked like he'd fought through the guards instead of asking permission to enter.
Voss struck his gavel. "Vale. You were ordered to remain at the east platform."
"I changed my mind."
"You don't have that privilege."
Dorian's pale eyes found mine.
He'd hunted me across three provinces after the blast. Searched my workshop. Arrested my brother. Put a rifle to my throat when I refused to give him the case code.
Now he looked at me like I was another problem he planned to solve.
"Get her off the floor," he said.
I laughed once. "Nice to see you too, Commander."
His gaze dropped to the chain around my wrist. "You're bleeding."
"You noticed? I thought you only watched me through a scope."
His mouth tightened. "Still talking. Good."
"Still lying. Worse."
Voss rose behind the bench. "Commander Vale, leave. This sentence is being carried out under tribunal authority."
Dorian pulled a folded document from inside his coat.
The room changed before he even opened it.
Officers straightened. Guards stopped watching me and started watching him. Whatever was on that page had teeth.
"Emergency Protection Law," Dorian said. "Section nine. Subsection four. A condemned witness carrying military evidence cannot be executed until the evidence is secured and the witness is placed under command protection."
Voss's face turned red. "That law doesn't apply to traitors."
"It applies when the witness is the only person who can open the evidence."
"Then break her fingers."
Dorian's eyes went flat. "Try it, and I'll take your tribunal apart before dinner."
Nobody laughed.
He crossed the floor toward me.
I shoved myself upright before he could offer a hand. My knees shook, but I kept the case between us.
"Don't touch me."
"I wasn't going to."
"You were thinking about it."
"I was thinking about how to get the chain off without letting you destroy the case."
"Same old Dorian. Always romantic."
He stopped close enough for his body heat to reach me through both our coats. He smelled like gun oil, clean soap, and bitter officer coffee.
His fingers flexed once at his side.
Not nervous.
Ready.
"You have two choices," he said.
"Let me guess. Hang or shoot?"
"Marry me or hang."
The gallery exploded.
Someone shouted, "What?"
I stared at him. "You skipped the part where I get to throw up."
Dorian held out the document. "Thirty-day emergency marriage contract. You become my protected spouse. The tribunal loses authority over your execution. I take custody of the case and move you to the armored rail before sunset."
"And after thirty days?"
"If the evidence clears you, the marriage ends. If it doesn't, you go back to the tribunal."
"So this isn't marriage. It's a prettier prison."
"It's the only prison where they can't put a noose around your neck."
I looked past him at the gallery.
Eli stood between two guards, his wrists chained to the rail. His face was bruised. One eye had swollen nearly shut.
He shook his head once.
Don't do it.
Of course he'd say that. He wasn't the one with the rope waiting behind him.
I turned back to Dorian. "What happens to my brother?"
"His sentence is suspended while you're under my protection."
"You swear?"
"I don't swear for free."