Chapter 95. The Debt Ledger

The Conclave smelled like wax and wet wool and decisions.

We set the Quiet Duke down on the stone in a ring of salt so precise Orla’s neatness made me want to kick something. Neris stood casually close to his left hand. Syra not-casually close to his throat. Mavienne leaned on her staff just enough to look frail and not enough to be it.

The elders came in wearing faces that had survived too many winters by pretending not to feel the cold. Kael stood at my left, which is either blasphemy or romance depending on who is writing the minutes.

“Prisoner,” the Full Moon intoned. “Name.”

He smiled. We let him keep his teeth so the smile wouldn’t be an apology for our mercy.

“I have had many,” he said.

“That’s not how this works,” the New Moon said. “Pick one.”

“Quiet Duke,” he said, amused.

“Charged with desecration of wards, unlawful magic, murder by proxy, and being a bore,” Neris added. She didn’t say it loudly. Somehow everyone heard.