“Restrain him,” Crevan says, looking down, moving his paperwork around, nervously.
Two members of security grab his arms, and he yells and struggles as they pull him from the room. I look away, turn to the front, eyes back to the ground.
“Shall I continue?” Judge Sanchez asks Crevan in her smooth voice, all honey and calm.
“No!” he snaps. “Celestine North,” he says, looking up at me, eyes wild and bloodshot. He means business now. “Your so-called bravery in court suggests you wish to be a poster girl, and we don’t take poster girls lightly. Not when the message you portray is dangerous to society. We see you as a poison that is prepared to inflict itself on our good and proper society. So take this to the people, poster girl.
“It is rare for any accused to receive more than one branding, but if you are to be looked at and adored by some in society, then let them see your flaws wherever they look. We must also take into account the seriousness of your actions, that they were done publicly, with an audience. This was not a private event that hurt a few. It was public and has become even more so. You have attracted the world’s attention, Ms. North, and for that we must send a message. I will now name your brands.”
Brands.
He pauses, and the room is so silent I’m sure everyone can hear my heartbeat.
“For stealing from society, you will be branded on your right hand. Whenever you go to shake the hands of any decent people in society, they will know of your theft.”
People start to talk, thinking he’s finished, but as he continues, they silence themselves.
“For your bad judgment, your right temple.”
Two brands. And he continues to gasps.
“For your collusion with the Flawed, for walking alongside them, and for stepping away from society, the sole of your right foot. Every time you connect with the earth, even it will know that you are Flawed to the very root of you.”
As he continues with a fourth Flaw, the audience protests again. Three brandings so far and continuing, it is unheard of. Only one person has ever received three brandings in the history of the Guild.
“For your disloyalty to the Guild and all of society, your chest, so that if anyone should wish to trust or love you in the future, they will see the mark of your unyielding disloyalty over your heart.
“And, finally, for the very fact that you lied to this court about your actions, your tongue, so that anyone you speak to or kiss will know that your words fall from a branded tongue and cannot be trusted for the rest of your life.”
Explosion in the courtroom. People are cheering, celebrating the justice that has been done, the scum that has once again been recognized in society. Others are shouting with anger at the judges for a great injustice. Even more than before now that they have heard the ruling. I have gained supporters, but not many, and what use is that to me now? It is too late. Naming Day has come, and I must face my worst fear: brandings, and not just one but five. It is unheard of.
My legs are shaking so much they buckle beneath me, and Mr. Berry makes a weak attempt to catch one arm, but his heart isn’t in it. Tina rushes to my side immediately and catches me. June takes my other arm, and I’m taken out through the hysterical public in the courtroom, out the main door, and across the courtyard, where I am shouted at and spat on. Objects pelt me, extra security hold the crowds back as they pulsate at me, more journalists than any other day hold cameras in my face, and I can barely see past the flashbulbs. I briefly see a large screen on the wall of Highland Castle and realize that my case has been aired for the public to see outside, and a huge crowd gathers beyond the barricade, many sitting on deck chairs.
I arrive back at the holding cell, covered in whatever filth people have spat and thrown at me, my ears ringing from the name-calling, my eyes still seeing the camera flashes. I try to adjust to the new light but find it hard. I trip and stumble, but Tina keeps me up. I’m aware of Tina’s and June’s worried glances at each other. They sit with me; they’re as jittery as I am.
I notice they’re covered in the same stuff I am.
“Sorry,” I say to both of them.
June looks surprised by my apology.
“We’re used to it,” Tina says, brushing off some egg yolk. “Just not this much. Look, this is new to all of us. How about tea for everyone?”
June nods and goes to the guards’ kitchen.
“I’ll get you some fresh clothes.” Tina leaves me. “I have to advise you to read the folder over there.”
The Flawed file, which prepares me for my new future.