Page 35 of He Who Ignites The Flame
Jissena emerged from the doorway behind me, her eyes downcast, hands folded in front of her. The crowd fell into a sea of murmurs and whispers.
“Jissena Stratos,” Hestis said, looking down at her. She lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “You stand before us to speak on Barrett’s behalf?”
“I do,” she said, and something chilled in my bones at the expression on Atticus’ face. There was no hint of surprise, none of the anger or fear I expected.
Damien lifted his hand, and the room went quiet. “As the bonded of Atticus, what qualifies you to speak on Barrett’s behalf? Is there not a conflict of interest on your part?”
“Cassia was my best friend. I’ve known Barrett and his sister since they were young. I knew Barrett couldn’t have done what he did maliciously,” she said, raising her hand to her heart before she reached into her pocket and pulled forth the piece of parchment I had signed.
“He asked for me to speak on his behalf for fear he would not be able to say the right things.”
Damien narrowed his eyes as he rested back in his seat. “You may speak.”
Jissena nodded. “I visited Barrett yesterday to speak with him. He confided in me his testimony, confessing to his crimes.”
I stopped breathing. “What?”
She took a step forward. “He admitted to what occurred, that he had lost his temper and had lost control of his magic. It was an accident that they died.”
“You expect us to believe it merely an accident?” someone shouted from the seats high above.
Atticus turned to her, his brows furrowing.
Jissena looked around. “He is young, his magic still new. He was barely a month into his training and has been struggling to maintain control of his magic. The flame Stoicheion is notoriously difficult to control when one’s emotions are so out of balance.”
No. This wasn’t happening.
“Liar...” I muttered, taking a step toward her.
“He admits to his guilt, asking that The Council grant him mercy,” she said.
“You liar,” I said, stepping forward, “Fucking lia?—”
My words cut short, my lips clamping shut. I fought to speak, but something was stopping me. The guards grabbed hold of me, pulling me back.
The room erupted, shouts echoing off the walls, some of the Kyrios rising to their feet as the guards forced me to the ground, the stone bruising my chin.
I growled, my muffled words unable to breach my lips as I fought their hold.
“You relinquished your right to speak,” the guard said, and I stiffened at the familiar voice. I twisted to look at the guard over my shoulder. The lower half of his face was masked, darkened gray eyes peering down at me with a horrifying delight, but I recognized his voice immediately.
She won’t be getting far—not with Aethersbane in her system.
It was him. The bowman who had fired the poisoned arrow. He had been there that night.
No! This couldn’t be fucking happening.
I wrestled against their hold, but my body rose against my will, all control taken by the Nous user at my back. Jissena stumbled away from me, fear flashing across her face as she met my furious gaze.
I’d fucking gut her for this, for tainting Calliope and Vesa’s memory, for twisting the truth and lying to me.
“His actions were his own,” Atticus argued, and Jissena turned to him.
“You understand fully how difficult it is to master the flame,” she said, placing her hand over her heart.
He seemed to consider it a moment, the phony bastard.
The Kyrios of House Latros shifted in her seat. “We cannot expect someone who is so prone to losing control of their magic to just wander the streets, endangering our people.”
