Chapter 292. Trial X

Chapter 292: 292. Trial X

Maisie

The trial was adjourned. For the obvious, horrifying reason.

"You are free to go," Councilman Derek told me outside the hall, which had already been evacuated and taped off with yellow barrier tape.

Quinlan had stayed back in the hall, not trusting the Queen’s men or the Council with the proper investigation of the rogues death. He also had something else to take care of, promising to join us in the car after a minute.

Councilman Derek looked weary, but his eyes remained cold as ever. "There will be no collars this time, as the Crown Prince has made his outrage clear regarding his bride being leashed. But should you try to leave Ashbourne before a verdict is reached, you will find there are far worse things than ashen collars."

I gave a silent nod. He turned to leave, his shoulders tense, before stopping with an irritated huff.

"You will be summoned to the correctional facility before the week ends," he added. "Your account of the... er... incident at the competition would be appreciated."

Soren arched a dark brow, leaning into Derek’s space. "Problem?" he purred, inclining his head in a silent message to Jericho, who pulled me away, ushering me down the stone corridor while Soren stayed behind.

I tapped into my heightened Lycan hearing to eavesdrop.

"The prisoner has refused to speak to anyone but her," Derek grumbled.

"Meaning you’ve run out of ways to torture answers out of him," Soren drawled. The darkness in his voice made me glance back over my shoulder.

He was crowding the Councilman, completely eclipsing him.

Derek was a powerful Alpha himself, easily old enough to be Soren’s father, but in that moment he looked small, retreating three quick steps for every single one Soren took forward.

"I I hear even the Queen’s twisted methods haven’t dented his resolve. It looks to me, Derek, like this is the Council’s problem. Maisie isn’t obligated to do shit for you."

"It would elevate her before the Council and the people if she helped--"

"Elevate?" Soren tasted the word on his tongue and scowled like he didn’t like it. "Anymore than the more than the mob outside currently demanding your heads outside?"

Mob? My eyebrows pulled together.

"Maisie will consider it," Soren hissed. "and if she decides to help, we will contact you. If not, find a lotion and go fuck yourself with it."

My jaw fell.

Jericho snickered. "Derek’s a pain in the ass. Working with a man whose favourite words are Off With Her Head where your Erasthai is involved doesn’t exactly build a good working relationship."

I ignored the way the word Erasthai caressed all of my nerve endings.

"What was he talking about?" I asked. "What prisoner? And what mob?"

We stepped out of the courthouse doors into the bright glare of the afternoon sun and the answer slammed into us.

The lot was packed. People swarmed the gates, far more than when we had arrived, if not thrice that amount. Heavily armed guards were working overtime, straining against a roaring crowd holding up painted signs.

"The Queen should be dethroned!"

"She’s a coward!"

"She hides in her castle while our children die!"

"Maisie Adams should be Queen!"

"There she is!"

Uh.... what?!

The crowd went wild, screaming my name, reaching through the human barricade like I was their salvation. Goosebumps tore up my arms.

"Keep close," Jericho grunted, shielding me with his massive frame as the crowd surged.

Suddenly, a section of the perimeter broke.

A wide eyed woman, whose had the aura of an omega came running for me.

The guards acted instantly blocking her off, but then she yelled over the noise, "My son, he goes to Hellsgrave. You saved his life that day. I don’t know how you did it, but we wanted to say thank you."

I paused, staring at her. I didn’t remember saving anyone. All I remembered was blood and destruction. No one would’ve been in danger if I wasn’t in Greymoor in the first place.

But my thoughts snagged on her words and I thought, "We?"

A small face peeled out from behind her jean skirt. The girl looked no older than four, with chubby cheeks and big brown eyes. Her eyes locked on mine for a moment and she ducked behind her mother with fright at the guards and their weapons.

I was moving before I realized it. "Put those away." The words seemed to come from someone else. When the guards looked unsure, Jericho growled, "You heard her."

I crouched low on the ground. "Hey. Come on out. It’s safe."

The girl poked her head out again. She turned her face to her mother for approval, and when the woman nodded, she stepped out.

Before I knew I had lost my baby, the thought of having children scared the hell out of me. But almost year later, so much had changed, and knowing I would never have mine made me realize I had been worried about the wrong things.

And I did love kids.

You looked into their eyes and knew that there was still some good in this world. And all would be right again.

The girl stood around the same height with me in my crouch. Her eyes fell over my face, lowering to take in the scars glittering in the sunlight. She gasped, her mouth forming a tiny ’o’ of pure wonder.

"Pretty," she whispered in her sweet, childish voice. "Like a fairy."

Tears pricked my eyes. I offered her a soft smile and gently bopped her nose. "No, you’re the fairy. What’s your name?"

"Wren," she chirped.

"That’s a beautiful name. Do you want to show me what you have behind your back, Wren?"

She hesitated, biting her bottom lip, then proudly pulled out a handmade crown. It wasn’t woven with skill. On the contrary, it was crude and lopsided, woven from twisted stems, yellow lilies, and white carnations. She’d placed a rose at the forecenter.

In mimicry of the ruby in the Queen’s crown.

She giggled, and without warning, she lifted it and settled it atop my head. And then kissed my cheek when I said, "Why, thank you, Wren."

A sharp burn ignited on the skin at the back of my neck with the intense feeling of being watched.

I raised my chin. My gaze traveled up, past the sea of silent people and the guards, all the way to the top of the stairs.

The Queen was standing there.

Her eyes locked onto the flower crown sitting on my head like it was pathetic, then narrowed her eyes upon the realization of what it represented to the people.

Her face paled with pure, unadulterated hatred. She looked like she wanted to tear me apart with her bare hands.

I didn’t know what came over me.

Maybe it was the pent up rage and adrenaline from being lied about, accused and cursed at for hours. Or maybe something had truly changed inside me.

But it started with the crinkle in my eyes. And soon, I was returning the same cruel, amused smile that she often gave me.

The one that said, "I’ll take everything from you. Everything thing you’ve ever held dear."

***

"It started circulating shortly after the attack," Jericho said. "It’s begun controversies. Half the world thinks it’s a fantasy movie, which isn’t entirely bad considering the one thing we’re trying to avoid is a world-wide panic of what some choose to call an ’alien-invasion’ and some, ’rapture’.

"The Queen is trying to curb this," he added, rubbing the shadow of a stubble on his chin. "But those who witnessed the attack also witnessed her doing nothing to help save the students. She ran, and Ashbourne will not forget that anytime soon. Neither will they forget the fact that there would be a lot more dead if it weren’t for you. She could pay and bribe half the town into giving false testimonies, but not everyone can be bought."

"And after Levi’s proof, killing the rogue mid way into his testimony has only dug her deeper into a shit-hole," Quinlan added.

An awkward, heavy silence filled the car. Juliette left earlier during the court’s proceedings, much too sweet to sit through the lies and my own truth. She’d had Richie drive her back home, her face red with tears.

Which meant the arrangement of our drive was skewed. Quinlan was driving. I was in the backseat with Jericho and Soren. And while I had missed them and appreciated the proximity, I knew it was only a matter of time before "THE CONVERSATION" happened.

I was so tense, I was close to breaking in half.

Like they knew I needed the space, they hadn’t moved closer or tried to touch me.

I sought to fill the silence, just to get my mind off the fear of THE CONVERSATION. "But she isn’t usually so..."

"Rash?" Quinlan asked, his eyes meeting mine through the rearview mirror.

I nodded, getting distracted by his hands on the steering wheel and how expertly he twisted it. He drove like he fucked. Confidently. Possessively. Like he knew where everything was by the method of ownership. It was only mildly distracting.

"No, she usually isn’t. But with her court currently divided and the public opinion generally against her, the rogue exposing the minutes of her agreement with Tessa wouldn’t have done any good." His knuckles went white as he tightened his grip on the wheel. "Should’ve predicted that."

The last sentence was quiet. He was talking more to himself than me.

Silence fell again. Sweat rolled down my temple. Any moment now, someone would broach the subject. I could feel it crackling in the air--

"Maisie--" Soren started.

"I heard your conversation with Derek," I cut in immediately. "About a prisoner."

Brilliant violet eyes tracked mine. I could feel Jericho’s eyes burning into my cheek too.

"The dragon," Soren said after a moment and my fingers froze where they toyed with the makeshift crown in my lap. "He’s being held at the facility."

My lips parted as unbidden images of blood spraying on my cheeks as I--my Lycan--tore off his wing. Sweet Goddess, I thought, swallowing. "H-he survived?"