Chapter Five

My belly aches, my head is ringing, my eyes are prickly, and my whole body feels like someone dumped a sack of potatoes on me all day. And yet all these are the least of my concerns.

Dominic just promised to put me on trial tomorrow. A fate even worse than being left here to rot. I have never been to trial before, never dreamt of it.

But I’ve heard stories and watched other people’s trials long enough to know that it’s not a good thing to be the one standing in the grand circle surrounded by a panel of elders who think everything is wrong with the world we live in. There’s no winning against the panel, no one even bothers to make their case anymore.

You just stand there, and try not to piss your pants while seven old men and women yell your sins back at you like it’s the chronicle of your life, ridicule you to filth and then pass a verdict just when they’re sure they’ve broken you down to nothing.

And although there are many verdicts for many charges, only two stand in the court of the Blue Crescent Pack.

Death.

&

Banishment.

And depending on who reads my charge, how it’s read, and the mood of the jury I stand chargeable to both.

“Oh, mother.”

That’s my whisperings in times so desperate that the Moon Goddess seems like an afterthought.

If she really was a force so great she contended with the gods, if she really fought enough wars to earn her place in the skies and if she really has been watching over me like Uncle Rawdy and Aunt Edna would say when I was little, then now- right now would be the time to show herself.

I don’t want to be put on trial tomorrow. To be condemned, disgraced and humiliated in front of everyone I know, for something I did not do.

And after that…

If the verdict is death, would Dominic really sit there and watch them kill me?

Even if it’s banishment.

After everything we’ve been through, how could he honestly do this to me?

I understand the pressure he’s been under ever since his father died, but would he just forget that I was the reason he didn’t drown under all that pressure at first? I fought for him, fought with him, fought by him.

None of this is fair!

My mind flashes to Joshua. He’s mandated to be there tomorrow during my trial. How’s that going to work for both of us? Is he just going to sit there and watch me get eaten alive because I refused to sleep with him?

Does he even think that’s an option?

I’ve only protected him so far because I have been trying to avoid a disaster. But right now I can’t imagine anything more disastrous than this. If I even as much as breathe that it was Joshua in that picture, Dominic wouldn’t even care to know the rest of the story. He wouldn’t need a verdict to rip Joshua apart.

So what’s his plan?

Because I will not be punished for him. Tomorrow I am going to make my case and it’s going to have Joshua written all over it. They’ll see.

I’m going to put on a show for them tomorrow.

—

Daylight hits my skin like freshwater in a refugee camp as the guards lead me out of my cell, their grip tight on my forearm. The moment we step out into the entrance gates I can already see a horde of people standing outside hurling insults my way and holding banners with the most ludicrous things sprawled across them.

They don’t hurt me as much as they would have yesterday. No, I’ve had enough time to cry and feel bad about myself. Now I realise that the only victim here is me, and unless I choose to play the villain and speak up, I’ll die for a crime I never even dreamt of committing.

The guards are not any gentler than the people banging at the gates and yelling into the air. They shove me into a bus, ripping off the base of my dress when it wouldn’t enter without a fuss. What’s left of the once glorious gown now hangs carelessly across my body in indistinguishable bits of brown and white.

The bus starts moving and I make it a mission not to look out the window as we drive out the gates.

The courtroom is at capacity when I enter, not that it’s surprising, they all love that little walk of shame before the trial starts. But I won’t be giving them what they came for today.

With my head held high I move through the gangway like I bought the place, stealing a few gasps and surprised stares as I marched down without even needing to be dragged by the guards.

I would recover from this, I didn’t do anything wrong.

It’s not until I have reached the front of the pews right before stepping into the grand circle that I notice something fundamentally jarring.

He’s not here.

Joshua.

That’s not right, he’s supposed to be here, he’s demanded by law to be here.

This is bad. If he’s not here then I cannot call him out to be questioned under oath, without that I might as well start singing because anything I say is refutable and practically useless. I look up again.

Dominic is there, seated in the centre of the elders. They’re all glaring at me now. Because now I don’t just look like a promiscuous bride. I look like the promiscuous bride with no remorse.

“Kyra Budgerson!”

Elder Claude calls out, pulling me out of my head.

“Step… forward.”

Shit.