Page 81 of Her Orc Protector

Gavriel's smile vanished. "This is absurd. You're allowing yourselves to be manipulated by a woman seeking revenge for a failed marriage."

His hand moved to his bracer again, this time with purpose, fingers tracing the edge of the silver band. One of the Council guards stepped forward immediately, hand moving to the hilt of his sword.

"Lord Duskryn," Thenholt said, his voice carrying authority now, "remove the bracer and place it on the table."

For a moment, I thought he might refuse—might try to use the Seal directly, consequences be damned. But then his shoulders sagged almost imperceptibly.

"This is a mistake," he said, but his voice had lost its edge. "A dangerous precedent."

Slowly, deliberately, he unfastened the clasp of his bracer. As he placed it on the table, I could see it clearly—a flat, dark stone embedded in the silver, etched with symbols I couldn't read but recognized from the archive drawings.

Thorne nodded to one of the guards, who approached cautiously. Using a cloth, the guard lifted the bracer, careful not to touch the stone directly.

"Take it to the mage-warden for containment," Thorne instructed. "And escort Lord Duskryn to the holding chamber. He will remain there pending further investigation."

Two guards moved to flank Gavriel, who stood rigidly, his composure cracked but not shattered.

"You think this ends it?" he asked, looking directly at me. "You think the truth protects you?"

"It's a start," I answered.

As they led him from the chamber, his aides following uncertainly behind, I remained standing. My legs felt suddenly unsteady, as if all the strength I'd gathered had drained away with his departure.

"Miss Duskryn," Thenholt addressed me formally, "your petition of magical coercion is upheld. The Council will review the evidence further, but preliminary findings support your claims."

I nodded, unable to find words adequate for the moment. Thorne leaned forward slightly.

"The claiming bond you established with—" she glanced at her notes, "—Uldrek of Cairn Hold remains valid and recognized. Your protective status is maintained."

"Thank you," I managed.

"This hearing is concluded," Thenholt announced. "The gallery will clear."

As the observers began to file out, murmuring amongst themselves, I remained standing at the table, my hands resting on the wood. The archive copy lay before me, open to the page that had changed everything. My fingers traced the edges of the parchment, still not quite believing what had just transpired.

It was done. After years of silence, of doubt, of fear—it was done.

Uldrek's hand touched my elbow gently. "Issy," he said quietly. "Let's go home."

I looked up at him, nodded, and carefully returned the documents to my satchel. We left the chamber together, not speaking, our footsteps echoing on the stone floor.

Outside, the morning air had warmed slightly, though the sky remained overcast. The streets were beginning to fill with people going about their day, unaware of what had just happened in the Council chamber.

I stood on the broad steps of the hall, breathing deeply, trying to sort through the tangle of emotions within me. Relief, yes—a profound lifting of weight. But also a strange hollowness, as if part of me still couldn't quite believe it was over.

Uldrek stood beside me, silent. Not tense, not cold—just still. When I glanced at him, I caught him looking at my collarbone, at the place where the claiming mark lay hidden beneath the high neckline of my dress.

His gaze lingered there, as if checking for something. I touched the fabric instinctively.

"It's still there," I said softly. "Just quiet."

Uldrek nodded slowly, then rubbed absentmindedly at his own chest, where the mark echoed beneath his skin.

"You all right?" I asked.

He looked at me then, his smile coming a breath too late, but warm. "Yeah. Just glad it's over. You were amazing in there. I'm so proud of you."

The words were perfect, his tone genuine. But something in the way his thumb kept brushing the hollow of his collarbone made me wonder what he wasn't saying.