Page 27 of Embers to Flames

“Aye, m’lord,” the merchant confirms.

Lord Phirel, with a thoughtful expression, asks, “Merchant, did you notice anyone else in the vicinity who might have had a motive to harm the victim?”

The merchant hesitates, then nods slowly. “Now that you mention it, m’lord, there were a few shady characters lurking about. But I can’t say for certain if they were involved.”

Next, a young woman with a tear-streaked face takes the stand. She clutches a handkerchief and speaks of hearing raised voices from her window the night of the murder. Her account is filled with fear and uncertainty, but she insists she saw Mikyl leaving the scene shortly after.

Lord Erhornasks gently, trying to put her at ease, “Young lady, you mentioned hearing raised voices. What exactly did you hear?”

“I—I heard shouting, m’lord,” she replies, her voice trembling. “It was late, and I was scared. I couldn’t make out the words, but it was definitely Mikyl’s voice. Then, I saw him leaving the scene, looking… frantic.”

Lord Erhorn interjects, his voice calm but probing, “Did you recognize any other voices besides Mikyl’s?”

“N—no, m’lord. I only recognized Mikyl’s voice. The other voice was unfamiliar to me.”

Lord Erhorn leans in, his gaze intense. “Did you see anyone else leave the scene after Mikyl?”

“I—I didn’t, m’lord,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “It was dark, and I was too frightened to look closely.”

An elderly man, leaning heavily on his cane, follows. He claims to have seen Mikyl fleeing the area, his cloak billowing behind him. His testimony is slow and deliberate, each word weighed with the gravity of his years.

Lord Klaernasks, his voice respectful, “Elder, you claim to have seen Mikyl fleeing. Can you describe his demeanor?”

“Indeed, m’lord,” the elderly man replies, his tone measured. “Mikyl was running, his cloak billowing behind him. He looked over his shoulder, as if fearing pursuit. His face was pale, and he moved with haste, like a man with something to hide.”

Lord Klaern, his expression skeptical, asks, “Did you see anyone else in the area at that time?”

“No, m’lord,” the elderly man responds. “Mikyl was the only one I saw running. But the shadows can hide many things.”

Lord Klaern, with a hint of curiosity, inquires, “Elder, in your experience, could someone else have committed the crime and fled without being seen?”

“It’s possible, m’lord,” the elderly man concedes. “The market square has many nooks and crannies. A skilled person could slip away unnoticed.”

As they speak, I can’t help but notice Theo growing increasingly uneasy, constantly shifting in his seat. After what seemed like hours, King Varitan’s voice bellows, “The crown would like to call one last witness. Rosanhi Hepburn, wife of the accused.”

Oh no. Why me?

My body trembles as I stand, torn between fear and fortitude. I turn to look at Theo, his hand clutches to mine and he smiles, mouthing, “It’s okay.” I find comfort in that and try to keep my composure as I make my way to the throne, but my heart is racing.

I take a deep breath and address the court. “My Lords, I am Rosanhi Hepburn, wife of Mikyl Hepburn.”

Lord Ailwin speaks to me directly, “Rosanhi Hepburn, this council has been informed that you visited your husband the morning after he was taken into custody. Is this true?”

I glance at Erhorn, and he looks back at me blankly.

“Yes, My Lord. This is true.”

“And what exactly did your husband admit to you?”

My mind races and I try to bring back the memory of that day. Everything that he had said. “He told me that he did not kill the man in Mara. Only that he had found him after he was murdered. He searched his pockets, but nothing more.”

“Nothing more?” Ailwin pushed for the truth. “Does your husband have a history of being a violent character?”

I can’t lie. They know about the fight that night.

I choose my words carefully, “There has only been one incident to my knowledge, My Lord.”

“And what incident would that be, Miss Hepburn?

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