The tribunal was assembled in the Grand Hall—the same space where emperors were crowned and empresses wed, now transformed into a courtroom.
Twelve chairs lined the defendant's platform, each occupied by a Council member in plain prison garb. No chains—Darius had insisted on that much dignity. But the Shadow Guard stationed behind each chair made it clear that dignity was the only courtesy they'd receive.
The Hall was packed beyond capacity. Nobles pressed against commoners, merchants stood shoulder-to-shoulder with servants, and every balcony overflowed with spectators desperate to witness history. The air was thick with anticipation and the smell of too many bodies in too small a space.
I sat beside Darius on a raised dais, positioned so we could see both the defendants and the crowd. Elian was with us—another decision that had sparked debate.
