The morning sunlight filtered through the stained‐glass windows of the Royal Forum, casting kaleidoscopic patterns upon the polished marble floor. Alexandrian banners—white and gold—hung in silent tribute to the day's proceedings. It had been nearly two weeks since the dawn arrest in the East Garden Pavilion, and now, the court was ready to render its judgment.
As Alexander and I arrived side by side, the weight of our combined responsibility settled over me. The empty chairs of Hadrian, Torric, and Elowen—draped in black—lined the front row, a stark reminder of the lives and careers that had unraveled in service of personal greed. The hooded Aradeth envoy stood in his separate dock, his posture hostile but contained. I took a steadying breath. This was the final act in a drama that had begun in clandestine corridors and secret letters.
Week One: Opening Statements
