Page 80 of Her Orc Protector

I almost laughed at the irony of his accusation. "No one manipulated me into coming here today," I said steadily. "You taught me exactly what coercion feels like. And in doing so, you gave me the knowledge I needed to recognize it—and fight it."

Thenholt was now reading directly from the archive copy. "The transfer form states explicitly that the Seal was given to you by Councilor Evrit, who, it should be noted, was later removed from the Council for ethical violations."

The gallery had begun to stir, whispers moving through the observers like wind through tall grass. One of Gavriel's aides shifted uncomfortably, taking a small step back.

Gavriel's expression had darkened. "The reformation period required difficult decisions," he said. "The realm was fractured. Order needed to be restored. If certain artifacts were studied for their potential to heal those divisions, it was done with the realm's best interests at heart."

"So you admit to possessing it," Thorne said sharply.

"I admit to nothing," he replied. "I am merely contextualizing the political reality of that time."

I watched him closely, saw the subtle shift in his posture—the straightening of his spine, the slight lift of his chin. He was losing ground and knew it.

"Documents can be altered," Gavriel said, his tone hardening. "Seals can be forged. This entire proceeding reeks of political manipulation—a coordinated attempt to discredit the Order of Renewal through baseless accusations."

His right hand twitched, a quick movement toward his left sleeve where a silver bracer he always wore peeked beneath the fabric. One of the chamber guards shifted subtly, moving into position between Gavriel and the Council. The movement was small but deliberate.

"The Order's reputation is not at issue today," Thorne said. "This hearing concerns specific allegations against you personally."

"The two cannot be separated," Gavriel insisted, his careful pleasantness falling away completely now. "I am a prominent voice for restoration and order. Of course, those who prefer chaos would seek to silence me."

His gaze flicked to me, cold and calculating. "Including a wife who abandoned her vows, who fled with my child, who now hides behind a false mate-bond with—" his lip curled as he glanced at Uldrek, "—with an orc."

I felt Uldrek tense beside me but kept my own expression neutral. "My relationship with Uldrek is not at issue here, either," I said calmly. "We're discussing your illegal use of dark magic."

"There is no proof!" His voice rose slightly before he regained control. "No evidence beyond your confused recollections and a document that could easily have been manipulated."

I was suddenly weary. Not afraid, not angry—just tired of the endless twisting, the slick redirections, the way he could make even the most straightforward truth seem murky and uncertain.

"The proof is sitting on your wrist," I said quietly.

The chamber went still.

I hadn’t known. Not for certain. Not until just now.

I’d seen that bracer a hundred times in our years together—sleek silver, etched with unfamiliar runes. He never removed it, not even to sleep. He told me it was a gift from a visiting artisan, a symbol of alliance, a reminder of duty.

I believed him. Or I thought I had. But maybe the truth had always been pacing at the edge of memory, waiting for me to name it.

It wasn’t proof, not the kind that could be measured or weighed. But my body remembered. The tug behind my thoughts, the subtle shifts in what I believed to be true—those moments had often come after he'd touched my shoulder, rested his hand near mine, let that silver band brush my skin.

And now, the way he moved to cover it. The flicker behind his eyes.

I might be wrong.

But I didn’t think I was.

And this time, I would not wait for certainty to make me brave.

"The Seal of Veritas," I continued, my voice steady though my heart pounded. "Right there, embedded in your bracer. You've been wearing it this entire time."

His face remained composed, but I saw the flicker of alarm in his eyes. "These are wild accusations. My bracer is merely decorative, a gift from a colleague."

"Then you won't mind removing it," Thorne suggested, her tone light but her gaze sharp.

Gavriel smiled thinly. "I am not required to indulge in theatrical displays based on paranoid fantasies."

"The Council has the authority to examine items of potential magical significance during a formal hearing," Thenholt said. "If you refuse, we may draw our own conclusions."

---