The Glittering Court (The Glittering Court, #1)(127)
Cedric was released, and Dillinger called, “Lady Elizabeth Witmore, Countess of Rothford.”
Anyone who hadn’t noticed me in the courtroom before noticed me now. I moved to the front with all the haughty confidence of a girl who’d spent her life being told her bloodline was superior to all others. I took my vow to Uros and then met Dillinger’s gaze with a coolness that told him he was wasting my time.
He cleared his throat. “Lady Witmore . . . please tell us how you came to be part of the Glittering Court under an assumed name.”
I’d expected this and had my answer well prepared. I spoke of how my family’s fortunes were fading and that I realized I’d have more opportunity in the New World. I told them my maid had run away, and I saw a chance for myself. “A title is nothing without substance,” I declared. “Perhaps I acted impulsively, but others have fought to find a place in the New World with success. I decided to join them.”
This earned a few approving nods until Dillinger declared: “So you lied and deceived others to get your way. Did Cedric Thorn know your true identity? Did he help cover it up?”
“No. He’d never met my lady-in-waiting. He didn’t learn my true identity until much later in Adoria.”
I told my Hadisen story, repeating almost everything Cedric had said in his version. When I reached the point about Warren assaulting me, the men on the tribunal showed obvious skepticism.
“Do you have any proof of this alleged attack?” asked one man.
I regarded him with narrowed eyes. “I have my word.”
“Plenty of women make claims like that. It’s an easy thing when there are no witnesses. The man says one thing, the woman another.”
It dawned on me then that I’d been wrong in thinking my title would give me an edge in this trial. The edge here was in being male. Women were easy to dismiss.
“Also,” added Dillinger, “I find it unlikely a woman of loose morals would object so violently to a man’s advances.”
The statement was so ludicrous that it took me several moments to form my response. “I . . . think any woman—moral or immoral—would object when forced against her will. And I don’t appreciate what you’re implying about my virtue.”
“Weren’t you Cedric Thorn’s lover?”
I had my imperious mask back on. “Preserving my virtue until marriage has been a principle I’ve adhered to my entire life. I didn’t give up my virginity to a man I wasn’t married to, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”
“You swear to that?”
“Yes.”
“Then why were you drinking cinnamon thorn tea?” I saw a few whispers at Dillinger’s words, which I found comical. Plenty of women drank it to prevent children. Everyone pretended they didn’t.
“Do you have proof I was?” I asked. I’d thrown away the dregs before serving Warren his tea, and there’d been none in my possessions at the Marshall house.
“Mister Doyle states he smelled it.”
“Just as I’ve stated he assaulted me. The man says one thing, the woman another.”
As more details were examined, I became certain this tribunal had been bought off to cast everything Cedric and I said in a negative light. My virtue was constantly brought up in my examination, as was my allegedly deceitful nature.
We broke for lunch after that, and I told Aiana my thoughts.
“Bribes go a long way,” she said.
I watched wistfully as Cedric was led out with the others. He sent a quick parting glance my way, slightly less confident than before. “Our so-called bribe money can’t match theirs. If we can even get that money.”
Aiana nodded toward the door. “Why don’t you find out?”
I turned and saw Mira entering, impeccable in a luxurious riding dress. I hurried over and hugged her, relieved she was safe. “How’d it go?” I whispered.
She grinned. “Easy. I could have sold him on anything.”
I hugged her again. “Thank you.”
“How’d it go here?”
“Let’s just say . . . not as successful as your task.”
We caught Mira up over lunch, and then the proceedings resumed. Silas Garrett gave a wonderfully impartial testimony that didn’t favor either side but did throw a couple of questions up about Warren’s story. I didn’t know if it’d be enough, though. Elias gave a predictably convoluted statement after that, and then the tribunal adjourned for the day. Cedric and Warren were escorted out separately, in different directions, and as luck would have it, Cedric was led toward the opposite side of the room and Warren was taken in my direction.
He paused in the aisle next to me, acting as though he needed to adjust something on his jacket. “How sad this must all be for you, Lady Witmore. First you traded security and a title to play house with scullery girls. When you got a chance to salvage your life from that downfall, you threw that opportunity away too for some romantic daydream. And just when you thought things might finally be going your way, poof!” He held his hands outstretched. “That crumbles away too. So much you’ve given up. So much you’ve endured. And when all is said and done, the only thing you’ll walk away with is . . . well, nothing.”
I clenched my fists, lest he see how I trembled. I couldn’t let him know how his words had struck me. Because in many ways, he was right. I’d made sacrifice after sacrifice in my life over the last year until I was left with one thing, the only thing that mattered: Cedric. And now they were threatening to take him too.
Richelle Mead's Books
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