Page 70 of The War of Four Winters

Theformalreadingofcharges continued, but I barely heard the words. My gaze remained fixed on the observer's gallery where Elindir sat disguised as a clerk.

He was alive.Here.

The sight of him sent pain and joy twisting together beneath my ribs until I could scarcely breathe.

Elindir had come for me.

Despite everything—the manipulation, the pain, the cold calculation that had marked our beginning—he had risked everything to be here. My mind could hardly comprehend it. A part of me wanted to shout to him, warn him away. This trial could have only one ending. Tarathiel would never allow me to leave this chamber alive. And now Elindir would witness my execution, perhaps be captured and killed himself for this reckless attempt.

The thought sent ice through my veins.

I forced my attention back to the Assembly chamber, struggling to focus on the proceedings rather than the man whose presence simultaneously filled me with hope and dread. I needed to understand what we faced, what pieces were in play on this vast political board.

The chamber itself revealed division. The twelve clan seats had once presented a unified front beneath my father's rule, but now cracks were clearly visible. The Runecleaver representative, an older elf who had traditionally supported Vinolia, sat stiffly in his ceremonial robes. With Katyr marching toward the capital, there had been no time to replace him with someone loyal to my brother's faction. Still, the man's discomfort was evident in his rigid posture, his avoidance of Tarathiel's gaze. He knew he would soon either have to change sides or face replacement.

The Duskfell seat remained conspicuously empty, as it had been since Daraith's sister refused to represent the clan after the massacre of their family. That vacancy revealed much about the shifting political landscape. Would Daraith arrive in time to claim it? Or would it remain empty?

Most surprising was how the representatives arranged themselves. The Stoneriver representative sat close to Craiggybottom, the two engaged in occasional whispered exchanges. Victorin and Captain Yisra had been my strongest allies in the rebellion. Was it possible their influence extended even here, in the heart of Tarathiel's power?

"...treason against the Assembly itself," the herald continued, his voice droning through the list of my crimes. "Conspiracy with foreign powers to undermine elven sovereignty. Murder of loyal soldiers performing their duty. Incitement of slave rebellion resulting in the deaths of thirty-seven elven nobles..."

I ignored the words, focusing instead on the revelation unfolding before me. The chamber wasn't entirely against me. House Wolfheart's representative sat attentively beside Klaus, their expressions carefully neutral. The Redrock representative, traditionally among my father's stronger supporters, seemed disengaged, the proceedings apparently holding little interest.

Only the Ivygrass, Seashore, Deepfrost, and Longclaw representatives showed the expected hostility, their faces twisted with open contempt as they watched me. Four votes against me, two or three potentially for me, and the rest... uncertain. The pieces had shifted while I traveled in chains to D'thallanar.

And now Elindir had somehow infiltrated the most secure building in the capital to add his own unpredictable element to this dangerous game.

My father sat at the center of the Assembly, draped in formal regalia. His silver hair caught the light streaming through high windows, victory braids woven with threads of gold. He wore the calm expression of a man who believed the outcome already decided. Yet his eyes betrayed an intensity suggesting otherwise. He knew the chamber was divided. He sensed the shifting political currents as keenly as I did.

The herald finally completed his recitation of my crimes, stepping back with a formal bow to the Assembly. "Thus concludes the presentation of charges against Ruith Starfall, former prince and commander. The Assembly will now hear evidence from witnesses."

Witnesses began to approach in succession, each relating their version of my treasonous actions. An elven merchant described seeing me arm former slaves at Calibarra. A battle mage testified to my orders contradicting the Primarch's direct commands. A noble from House Seashore wept as he recounted finding his family slaughtered by human insurgents, allegedly inspired by my rhetoric of liberation.

Some testimony rang true, others were blatant fabrications. I kept my face carefully neutral through it all, though inside I seethed at the carefully constructed narrative being woven around me. My father had prepared his case meticulously, presenting me not merely as a rebellious son but as an existential threat to elven civilization itself.

"The prisoner consistently demonstrated contempt for our most sacred traditions," intoned an elder from House Deepfrost, his voice quavering with either age or practiced emotion. "He openly proclaimed that humans deserved equal status to elves. He encouraged them to see themselves not as property but as persons."

A ripple of discomfort moved through sections of the Assembly at these words. Many representatives shifted in their seats, their expressions suggesting this particular accusation might not carry the weight my father intended.

"Furthermore," the elder continued, "he took a human consort, elevating a slave to a position of authority over true-born elves. An obscenity not seen since the Dark Times."

My eyes instinctively sought Elindir in the gallery. He sat perfectly still, his face showing only attentive boredom. The perfect disguise of a minor clerk required to document proceedings that held no personal significance. Except I could see the tension in his shoulders, the controlled rhythm of his breathing.

The day wore on, witness after witness painting me as a traitor, a radical, a threat to everything elven society held sacred. As the light shifted through the high windows, signaling the approach of evening, I noted how carefully my father had orchestrated the testimony. Each speaker built upon the previous, creating a seamless narrative of betrayal and danger that would be difficult to dismantle.

Finally, as shadows lengthened across the chamber floor, the herald struck his staff against the marble. "The Assembly will adjourn until tomorrow morning when additional testimony will be heard. The prisoner will be returned to holding until proceedings resume."

Guards approached to escort me from the chamber. As I was led away, I searched the gallery one last time for Elindir, but his seat was empty. He had slipped away during the final testimony, likely seeking to avoid scrutiny as the chamber emptied. The loss of his presence, even from a distance, left me feeling suddenly hollow.

The return to my cell passed in a blur of stone corridors and whispered conversations between my guards. My mind remained in the Assembly chamber, replaying what I had observed, calculating possibilities, evaluating threats and opportunities. The political landscape was more complex than I had dared hope, but still dangerously balanced against me.

The cell door closed with a hollow thud. I sank onto the stone bench, finally alone with the knowledge that Elindir was here, somewhere in D'thallanar, risking everything for reasons I couldn't fathom. Had he come purely to witness my end? To exact some revenge for all I had done to him? Or was there some purpose to his presence beyond witness and memory?

Time passed unmarked in the windowless cell. Guards brought food I didn't touch, water I barely sipped. The torches outside my door burned lower, casting elongated shadows through the small barred opening. I estimated it must be well past midnight when I heard footsteps approaching that were too light for guards in their heavy boots.

Hushed voices exchanged words I couldn't make out. Then a key turned in the lock, and the door swung open just enough to admit two figures before closing again with barely a sound.

Klaus Wolfheart entered first, his storm gray eyes scanning the cell quickly before stepping aside. Behind him came Elindir, hood drawn back from his face, eyes finding mine immediately in the dim light.

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