“No.”
Aiana offered no other information, and I took it that I wasn’t meant to ask more about it.
A crowd had gathered outside the courthouse when we arrived. Even in a lively city like Cape Triumph, this was serious drama. The governor’s son, an illicit romance, heresy . . . citizens were dying to get a front-row seat. Aiana steered me by them and up to the entrance, where a court official waved us through.
The courtroom was already full, with seating set aside for principal players. One of those seats was for me, and I sat down, noticing that Jasper wasn’t too far away. He gave me a cold nod and then pointedly looked in the opposite direction. Over near the front, Governor Doyle sat with Viola by his side and other advisors nearby. Two rows of seats were still empty, and those I watched avidly. At last, a bailiff opened a side door and led in the held men. Warren was first, looking remarkably smug given the circumstances. Cedric came last, and my heart leapt at the sight of him.
He needed a shave, and his arm was still in the sling, of course. But otherwise, he moved well and had lost more of his bruises. I wondered if that was a good or bad thing. It might have helped our case if we’d had proof of how badly he’d been beaten. He scanned the room and caught my eye, giving me a small nod to tell me he was okay. He even managed a ghost of his usual smile, but it was strained.
Everyone rose when the tribunal entered, consisting of seven men. They were magistrates and other prominent Denham figures. Normally, the governor would lead the group, but Governor Doyle had to sit out for obvious reasons. A magistrate named Adam Dillinger had instead been appointed as the lead.
“We’re here to rule on a . . . complicated dispute that took place in Hadisen Colony. Here, we will seek out the truth in accordance with the laws of our mother Osfrid. Let us pray to Uros for guidance.”
He led us in prayer, and most everyone in the room bowed their heads solemnly. Peeking up, I saw that several people were watching Cedric, as though they expected him to stand up and conduct some black rite then and there.
“Mister Doyle,” said Magistrate Dillinger. “Please come up and tell your story.”
Warren strode forward. He’d washed and shaved and wore new clothes, which irked me. That came of having supporters here. Cedric looked shabby by comparison, but who did he have to rely on? Certainly not his family. And I hadn’t been able to dress myself without charity.
No one needed Warren’s background, but he gave it anyway, painting himself as a model citizen who’d followed in his father’s footsteps. He made sure to remind everyone of all the good things Governor Doyle had done and how Warren humbly hoped to emulate his father in Hadisen.
“As part of my new position, I knew it was crucial I seek a wife and advocate of righteous family values. When the Glittering Court began its new season, I began courting one of its girls—a young woman who called herself Adelaide Bailey.”
Half of the courtroom turned to stare at me, and I kept my gaze focused forward, refusing to meet any of them in the eye.
“By all appearances, Miss Bailey seemed like an honest, virtuous girl. She led me to believe she was interested in me and was on the verge of contracting a marriage. It was then that I found out she’d been . . . involved with Cedric Thorn, one of the Glittering Court’s procurers.” There was no mistaking what he meant by “involved.”
“That’s a serious accusation,” said one of the tribunal members.
“Miss Clara Hayes of the Glittering Court witnessed their indiscretion firsthand,” said Warren. “Several others saw the aftermath. You may question any of them for further clarification.”
“What did you do next, Mister Doyle?” asked Dillinger.
“What could I do?” Warren spread his hands wide. “I’d hardly push for a woman whose heart was with another. I felt sorry for them, really. So I decided to help.”
He detailed the arrangement he’d had with us in Hadisen, again painting himself as an exemplary—and charitable—man. Several spectators shook their heads in a mix of anger and sympathy, clearly showing they thought Warren had been taken advantage of.
“I gave Mister Thorn every opportunity to succeed,” Warren said. “Equipment, training. But it soon became clear that he’d taken on more than he was capable of. He’s a businessman—a scholar. Hardly suited to the kind of labor needed on the frontier. His ineptitude resulted in accidents, one fall in particular being especially bad. And he’d make grandiose claims of huge gold strikes but never actually unearth said gold, no matter how long we kept waiting for it.”