Page 26 of Embers to Flames

“Ava, sir. I—used my ability to—read her thoughts. She walked in on the prince as he was pouring liquid Auraroot down the throat of a young Elf during the Spring Ball.”

Lord Erhorn’s eyes widen with shock. “This is… treasonous. I will inform the King when the time is right. Unfortunately, at this moment, we are expected in the throne room for Mikyl’s trial. I must plead with both of you to keep this revelation between us,” Theo and I nod in agreement before turning to leave.

Theo and I walk side by side navigating our way through the castle’s never-ending labyrinth. Sensing my unease, he takes me by the hand, his fingers interlocking with mine. Warmth radiates from his touch. “Are you okay?” he asks. His vibrant golden eyes meet mine, glinting with worry under the luminescent glow of torches lining the stone walls.

I shake my head, still trying to process the information. “No, not really. I mean, what are we going to do? If the prince is behind this, it could mean war. And I have so many questions right now.”

“And I promise that you will have all the answers you require. Let’s get through the trial first. We’ll deal with the prince later.” I nod, feeling a mixture of fear and determination.

We draw closer to the throne room’s towering doors; a vague murmur of voices seeps out from behind them. We stop right before entering the room. Theo’s hand moves from mine to my cheek, he leans down to press a gentle kiss on my forehead.

“We will face this together,” is all he says as we step into the throne room–still side by side.

Chapter Twelve

Entering the throne room, the atmosphere is tense. Everyone is talking in hushed voices, their eyes fixed on the throne where the King sits, looking stern and unyielding.

Mikyl is standing before him, his face pale and filled with fear. Theo and I take our seats on a bench in the front of the room, just left of the dais. The four High Lords of the realm enter solemnly. The only one I recognize is Lord Erhorn.

“I’ve never seen the other lords before. They all look so wise and majestic,” I whisper to Theo.

He chuckles softly as he points to the stoic looking Elf standing next to Erhorn. “Well, that one, is Erhorn’s brother—my father. Lord Ailwin Santrell of Paeris.” Ailwin’sface was apathetic, and he held a serious brow below a widow’s peak hairline.

Theo continues, “The heftier one next to him with the long silver hair; that is Lord Phirel Gorwin of Endia. They say he stays rotund to adhere to the cold winds of the north. I think he just enjoys indulging on yader meat.” He lets out a soft snicker at his own joke.

“Lastly, Lord Klaern Wynfir of Lansington.” Klaern is tall and lean. He stands serene and composed. His presence is more soothing than the others. “Lansington is known for being a woodsier city. The residents there enjoy spending their time gardening and being one with nature.”

King Varitan rises from his throne and stands before the court. “Lords of Quillyan, citizens of Eirina, we gather here today under the weighty mantle of justice. As your sovereign, it is my duty to preside over these proceedings with an unwavering commitment to truth and fairness.”

He pauses, his gaze sweeping across the assembled crowd. “Let it be known that the scales of justice shall measure the evidence without prejudice, and the law shall be our guiding star.”

The tension of the room is palpable as he turns his attention to Mikyl. “Standing before me is the accused. Mikyl Hepburn, Human and resident of Bahulya, you have been charged with the act of murder. A crime for which, if you are found guilty, will be punishable by death.”

His voice grows stern, his eyes locking onto Mikyl’s, “Furthermore, damning evidence has surfaced that you were caught red-handed committing a violent assault on the very night of your apprehension. This egregious act will not go unpunished. You will face additional charges and stand trial for this savage attack.”

The crowd gasps, their horrified whispers sweeping through the room like an ominous storm brewing. King Varitan silences them with a single uplifted hand, his jeweled rings catching the soft glow of the court’s candle chandeliers. His eyes return to Mikyl, “Do you understand the charges brought against you?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Mikyl’s voice reverberates through the deathly silence, clear and resonant.

“Do you have anything to say before your trial commences?”

Mikyl’s voice trembles as he speaks, “I am guilty of many things, Your Grace,” he says, his gaze shifting to me, “And if I could change my past… if I could undo what I’ve done… I would. But the one thing I did not do… is take another man’s life.”

The crowd murmurs, some looking skeptical while others seem to be in support of Mikyl. King Varitan nods, “Very well. Let the witnesses step forth.”

I watch closely as the first witness approaches, trying to piece together the events that led to Mikyl’s arrest. The testimonies are pejorative, with multiple witnesses claiming tohave seen Mikyl arguing with the victim before the murder took place.

A middle-aged merchant with a grizzled beard recounts seeing Mikyl and the victim in an intense argument near the market square. His voice trembles slightly as he describes the anger in Mikyl’s eyes.

Lord Phirelcommands, his tone stern, “Merchant, describe the argument you witnessed between Mikyl and the victim.”

“Aye, m’lord,” the merchant replies, his voice wavering. “They were near the market square, shouting at each other. Mikyl’s face was red with fury. He yelled, ‘You’ll regret this!’ before storming off.”

Lord Phirel leans forward, his eyes narrowing. “Did you actually witness Mikyl kill the man?”

“N-no, m’lord,” the merchant stammers. “When Mikyl stormed off, the man was still alive. I didn’t see the actual moment of the murder.”

“So, when Mikyl left, the other man was still alive. Is that correct?” Lord Phirel presses.

---