Page 16 of The Bond That Burns

A single, massive chandelier hung in the center of the ceiling, lined with hundreds of white candles. At the front of the room, elevated above the rest of us, sat the Tribunal Panel in a tiered wooden enclosure. Each panel member wore a long black robe, accented only with a subtle touch of their house colors.

There were eight tribunal members, but four may as well have not existed at all. Four were the regents of Sangratha–the four heads of the great houses. For all intents and purposes, they controlled everything. The other four were randomly selectedfrom other noble but relatively minor highblood families. Only the four house leaders held permanent seats on each tribunal.

In the very center of the chamber sat a single chair made of iron. It did not particularly encourage me to see the chair was bolted to the floor. Heavy chains dangled ominously from the armrests, making me wonder what kinds of people were usually brought before the Tribunal.

I swallowed hard as Headmaster Kim led me down the main aisle towards the Tribunal Panel. Around us on either side, in rising tiers, were seated rows upon rows of highbloods. Onlookers to my trial.

There seemed to be an excellent turn out. The room was filled to the brim and loud with the buzz of their murmurs, reminding me of a swarm of hungry wasps.

Across from the iron chair and to the left of the wooden enclosure that held the panel-members stood a solitary podium. Headmaster Kim had explained on the way over that the highblood who had been appointed Arbiter would stand at this podium, overseeing the proceedings and acting as a neutral party. But the Tribunal Panel held the real power. Four held the most. And perhaps even two above all.

I scanned the room, my eyes going towards the Tribunal Panel and the people who would decide my fate today. Viktor Drakharrow sat in the front row, his crimson eyes glowing faintly as he watched me approach. He wore the customary black robes, only his had blood-red lapels embroidered with the Drakharrow motto to indicate his house. As if there would be any mistaking who he was.

To his right sat Lord Garrick Mortis, Catherine’s father. I’d seen him once before, that first day in the Black Keep. Now I inspected him more closely. Lord Mortis was a towering figure. His broad shoulders and thick chest tugged at the seams of the black tribunal robe. His pale face was scarred, the mark of a blade slashing diagonally across his cheekbone to his temple. He looked back at me grimly from behind a thick silver beard. Everything about him radiated a tough, brutal authority. I suspected I would find no ally here.

Lord Mortis’s robes had white lapels and the Mortis house motto was inscribed on them in red:Mortem Excito.I summon death.

Next to him was seated an elegant, petite woman. I knew this must be Kage’s grandmother and Natsumi’s mother-in-law, Lady Elaria Avari. Lady Avari’s long, silver-white hair was pinned up with jeweled combs, framing her heart-shaped face. Her dark brown eyes held a cleverness and warmth that Viktor and Lord Mortis’ both sorely lacked. This woman clearly missed nothing, calculated everything.

Elaria’s fingers were covered with rings set with diamonds and onyx. Around her throat hung a heavy half-moon pendant made of silver that reminded me of the necklace Kage had given to me. She touched a hand to the silver lapels of her black robe, stroking the embroidered motto inscribed there:Luna Sanguinea Surgit.Blood Moon Rises. For the first time I wondered what the significance of the moon was to House Avari exactly.

I didn’t recognize any of the four highbloods sitting in the second row so I skipped over them, moving to the last of the four front seats. A jolt of surprise passed through me. Lysander Orphos sat there. I’d no idea he was the leader of House Orphos beyond the walls of Bloodwing Academy. All of the otherHouse Leaders were much older, formidable figures steeped in authority. Lysander, with his softer expression and delicate features, seemed distinctly out of place. Not because he lacked presence, but simply because he was so much younger.

The House Orphos leader’s long, silver-white hair was down in loose waves around his shoulders, falling over the purple silk of the lapels of his robe. I couldn’t make out the motto written there, but I didn’t need to. I’d seen it before, on the tapestries at Bloodwing. The Orphos motto wasSanguis Somniatorum. Blood of Dreamers.

Lysander glanced at me briefly but then his eyes flitted away. I watched as he frowned, following his gaze to a young girl seated in one of the upper tiers of the gallery.

Lunaya Orphos’s skin seemed to radiate its own soft glow. Like her brother, her silver-blonde-hair fell in a sleek curtain, straight down her back. Her features were delicate, sweet, and almost otherworldly. An upturned small nose, soft lips curved in a dreamy, half-smile, and wide innocent eyes.

Lunaya’s hands were clasped together in her lap, her head tilted slightly as she looked up at the man speaking to her.

I felt a prickle cross my skin as I recognized him. Marcus Drakharrow.

Blake’s elder brother leaned over Lysander’s sister, his muscular, hulking frame dwarfing her small one. To me, Marcus seemed to exude menace. But it was clear that Lunaya didn’t see it. Instead, she smiled and blushed as Marcus said something and grinned down at her.

I glanced back at Lysander. His hands gripped the armrests of his chair tightly. It was obvious he didn’t appreciate Marcus speaking to his younger sister, especially when he couldn’t be there beside her.

Headmaster Kim touched my arm as if to tell me to pick up my pace and I realized I’d been dawdling.

As we reached the iron chair in the center of the chamber, my heart sped up. I couldn’t take my eyes off those iron chains. I glanced at Kim. He looked bored if anything. Not as if he were about to chain me to the chair.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled off my cloak and hung it over the back of the chair, then sat down swiftly.

A ripple of excitement spread through the gallery as my arrival was noticed. Highbloods leaned forward in their seats, whispering to one another, their expressions ranging from curious to outrightly hostile as they peered down at me.

I kept my head high and my hands in my lap, careful not to touch the chains.

Headmaster Kim stood awkwardly beside me for a moment. Then he cleared his throat and moved away. Apparently his part in this little drama was over.

The Tribunal Panel rose above me, a wall of black robed authority. Viktor’s glowing crimson eyes burned into mine, angry as always, yet constantly assessing. I forced a small smile, determined not to reveal my unease.

I shouldn’t goad him. I knew that. But it was impossible to resist. I moved my hands to smooth out the wrinkles in my skirt. Gray wool. I touched a hand to the collar of the shirt I woretucked into it. Blue linen. The colors of a First Year student.Notthe colors of a girl belonging to House Drakharrow–or to Lord Drakharrow’s nephew.

Was it my imagination or were Lady Avari’s lips twitching in amusement as she looked me over?

I risked a glance behind me. In the first row of seats, I caught sight of Theo sitting next to Blake. His dark, honey-blond hair fell around his pale face. When our eyes met, he smiled a small, encouraging smile. It was meant to reassure me, I knew, but the nervous set of his jaw betrayed him. Was Theo nervous for me? Or for himself?

Blake seemed determined to ignore me, which was fine by me. He stared past me as if he were bored, slouched low in his seat, his long legs spread wide, his fingers tapping the armrests of his chair.

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