POV: Ravenna
The announcement came at morning court two days later.
I stood beside Father in the throne room while he declared that the postponed hearing regarding Lucien's death would proceed tomorrow. No more delays. No more waiting. House Ashford would have their justice. Or their answer. Whatever the evidence supported.
The court erupted in whispers. Everyone had been waiting for this. The scandal. The drama. The princess whose bonded warrior killed a candidate in the most brutal way imaginable.
Cassian stood with the House Ashford delegation, his face carefully neutral. But I could see the satisfaction in his eyes. Finally. Finally they would get their chance to make Theron pay.
"The hearing will examine all evidence," Father continued. "All testimony. All precedent regarding berserker rage and bonded mate defense. Both sides will present their case. Three judges will determine if charges are warranted."
"Who are the judges?" Cassian asked. His voice carried through the suddenly silent room.
"Master Veyron, as expert on dragon combat and behavior. Ambassador Lyra from Aetherwyn, neutral party with knowledge of bonded mates. And Lord Markham, as representative of Cindravale's laws and traditions."
Cassian's jaw tightened but he nodded. "House Ashford accepts these judges."
"Good." Father's eyes swept the court. "The hearing begins at dawn tomorrow. All witnesses have been summoned. All evidence will be reviewed. Until then, Theron remains confined to palace grounds."
The court was dismissed. People filed out, already gossiping, already taking sides.
I stayed near Father, watching them go. Watching Cassian lead his delegation toward the doors. Then I saw her.
Seraphine.
She stood at the back of the court, pale and devastated. She'd lost weight since her brother's death. Her clothes hung loose. Her eyes were red-rimmed and hollow.
She looked like a ghost of herself.
I moved before I could think better of it. Crossed the throne room toward her. Maybe I could talk to her. Maybe I could make her understand that Lucien had brought this on himself.
She saw me coming and turned away.
"Seraphine, wait—"
"No." Her voice was flat. Empty. "I have nothing to say to you."
"Please. Just listen—"
"Listen to what?" She spun back around. Her eyes were blazing now. Grief and rage combined. "To you explaining how my brother deserved to die? How your bonded was JUSTIFIED in tearing him apart?"
"He attacked Solace first," I said quietly. "He broke every rule of combat—"
"I don't CARE." Tears started streaming down her face. "I don't care about rules or justifications or any of it. He was my brother. He was all I had. And you took him away."
"Lucien made his choice when he went after Solace—"
"Stop." Her voice broke completely. "Stop trying to make this make sense. Stop trying to make me understand. I loved him. I loved him. And now he's dead and I'm alone and nothing you say will change that."
People were staring. Whispering. Watching the princess and the grieving sister face off in the throne room.
"I'm sorry," I said. It was inadequate. Meaningless. But I meant it. "I'm sorry you lost your brother. I'm sorry you're in pain. But Theron didn't have a choice. The berserker rage—"
"There's always a choice." Seraphine wiped her tears roughly. "He could have stopped. Could have controlled himself. But he didn't. He kept going until there was nothing left of Lucien. Until my brother was just... pieces in the sand."
Her voice was shaking. Her whole body trembling.
"Even if the hearing clears him," she said. "Even if they say it was justified. House Ashford will never forgive. Will never forget. We will make sure everyone knows what your bonded is. A monster."
She turned and walked away. Disappeared into the crowd before I could respond.
I stood there feeling sick. Feeling the weight of what was coming tomorrow.
"She won't change her mind." Hadrian's voice beside me. I hadn't heard him approach. "Grief doesn't listen to reason."
"I know." But that didn't make it easier. "She lost her brother. Nothing I say will make that better."
"No. But the hearing will determine if justice is served or if revenge is." He glanced toward where Theron stood with Father's advisors. "We need to prepare him. Make sure he's ready for tomorrow."
We spent the rest of the day in preparation.
Organizing testimony. Reviewing evidence. Making sure every detail was perfect.
Master Veyron would testify about berserker dragon behavior. How it wasn't something that could be controlled. How attacking a bonded mate was the fastest way to trigger it. How most berserkers had to be killed because their mates couldn't calm them—but Theron had come back when I called him.
Lyra would testify about bonded mates defending each other. How the imperative to protect was written into dragon biology. How any bonded dragon would have responded similarly.
Edmund's written testimony arrived by courier. Pages describing Theron's character. His honor. His control in every other situation. How he'd been patient and kind during the competition even when treated poorly.
And I would testify about what I'd seen. How Lucien had attacked Solace unprovoked. How he'd broken every rule of combat. How Theron's response had been instinctive, biological, impossible to prevent.
It should be enough. The evidence was clear. The precedent established. Berserker rage in defense of a bonded mate was justified under ancient law.
But I couldn't shake the feeling that it wouldn't matter. That Seraphine's grief and Cassian's ambition and House Ashford's power would tip the scales regardless of evidence.
That tomorrow we'd lose everything despite being right.
That night, I found Theron in the gardens. Sitting on a stone bench. Staring at nothing.
I sat beside him without speaking. Just my presence. Just being there.
"I've been thinking about what Seraphine said," he finally spoke. His voice was quiet. Tired. "That there's always a choice. That I could have stopped."
"That's not true—"
"Isn't it?" He looked at me. His amber eyes were haunted. "I was conscious the whole time. Aware. I felt everything. Felt Lucien die. Felt myself keep attacking. And some part of me... some part of me didn't want to stop."
"Because your mate was hurt—"
"Because I was ANGRY." His voice broke. "Not just berserker instinct. Not just biology. I was furious that he'd attacked you. That he'd broken the rules. That he thought he could cheat and get away with it. And that anger fed the rage until I couldn't tell where biology ended and choice began."
I took his hand. "That doesn't make you a monster. That makes you someone who loved enough to be angry when that love was threatened."
"Tomorrow they'll ask me questions. Make me relive it. Make me explain. And I don't know if I can do that without breaking."
"Then break." I squeezed his hand. "Break in front of them. Show them you're not some cold killer. Show them the cost of what you did. The guilt. The horror. The humanity."
"What if they still find me guilty?"
"Then we fight that too." My voice was fierce. "We appeal. We argue. We find another way. But I'm not giving up on you. Not now. Not ever."
He pulled me close. Held me like I was the only thing keeping him together.
"Together?" he whispered.
"Together," I confirmed.
We sat in the garden until darkness fell completely. Until stars emerged overhead and the night air turned cold.
Tomorrow would bring the hearing. Bring testimony and evidence and judgment.
Tomorrow would determine if love and biology and ancient law were enough to save us.
But tonight, we had each other.
And that would have to be enough.