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“Soturion Tani Elwen,” Aemon said, “you stand accused of being a member of the rebel group going by the name of the Emartis. This group has been recently classified by the Bamarian Council as a terrorist organization.”

I hadn’t heard that that declaration had been made. That was good—the Council was taking their threat seriously. But at the same time, it made my stomach twist because this classification was an admission that the Emartis were far more dangerous than just some rebels.

“Lady Arianna, you are Master of Education on the Bamarian Council as well as an eyewitness to Soturion Tani acting in the interest of the Emartis and showing visible symbols of the organization that mark her as a member,” said Aemon. “Tell us what you saw.”

Arianna nodded elegantly, giving me a quick reassuring glance and a tender smile, the one she’d given me whenever I’d needed comfort over the years. Her expression straightened as she turned her gaze to Aemon and the Imperator. “I was entering the Soturion Apartments designated for the novices yesterday afternoon when I found Soturion Tani attacking her grace, Lady Lyriana Batavia, Heir to the Arkasva, High Lord of Bamaria.” She stated my full name and title, pride in her voice, and I gave a small smile. I’d missed being with Arianna in the last month, kept busy with my training. Though my nerves were still on edge from being in the Imperator’s and Bastardmaker’s presence, warmth bloomed in my chest as she spoke.

“Lady Lyriana found Soturion Tani with a symbol of the known terrorist organization calling themselves the Emartis. It’s High Lumerian, meaning ‘truth bearers.’ Their motto is shekar arkasva, or false arkasva, laboring under the delusional belief that my late sister, High Lady Marianna,Ha Ka Mokan, did not name her husband, Harren Batavia, the current High Lord of Bamaria, as Heir Apparent before her death.”

The belief among the Emartis was that the Heir Apparent should have been Arianna—my mother’s only remaining sister. Meera was the natural Heir at the time and the current Heir Apparent—next in line to the Seat of Power—but she had been only four when my mother passed, too young to accept the Laurel of the Arkasva. And she was too sick with vorakh to take it now.

Tani grinned at Arianna’s words, as if she loved everything my aunt was saying about the traitorous organization and their treason. Gods, she was sitting here on trial, and yet…she was proud. A chill ran down my spine.

“Fascinating history,” drawled the Imperator, looking bored. “What does the civil unrest over the current rulership of Bamaria have to do with a non-noble soturion from Elyria?”

I clenched my jaw, my teeth gnashing. Civil unrest in Bamaria was his entire excuse for his foreign occupation of my country.

“The organization has created a bastardized symbol of Ka Batavia’s sigil, a seraphim with black wings,” Arianna said. “The sigil is a full copy otherwise and cannot be attributed to showing off some other breed of seraphim, as black-winged seraphim do not exist. Soturion Tani was wearing the mask of a black seraphim when I found her engaging in a fight with her grace.” Arianna produced her stave and pointed it at the double doors behind Aemon. They opened at once, and a black feathery object flew into the room and landed at the Imperator’s feet. “Soturion Tani was in possession of this very mask.”

“Wearing a seraphim mask with black wings is enough to convict her?” asked the Imperator, looking down at the evidence on the floor. One sandaled foot pushed the offending object away from him.

“I believe, your highness,” Aemon said through gritted teeth, “this is why we’re holding trial.” He looked like he was out of patience for the Imperator. Aemon turned to Tani. “Soturion Tani, this is a serious accusation. And the evidence is damning. Her grace, Lady Lyriana, was targeted by this organization only a day before your encounter. The Emartis launched an attack that could have proven deadly. An attack that directly resulted in classifying the Emartis as terrorists. And then you proceeded to strike your own attack on her in the halls of her living quarters—a place considered out of bounds for fights amongst my soturi.”

Tani shrugged her shoulders like this was no big deal. She was on trial with the deadliest arkturion in Lumeria, the head of the Soturion Academy she was required to graduate from if she had any hope of a future, and the Imperator, the man who could whisper in the ears of the Emperor, his uncle, regarding whether someone in her family should live or die. And Tani looked calm. Almost gleeful. I couldn’t fathom being like this in the Imperator’s presence. And I knew I’d shrink under Aemon’s gaze if he ever directed his anger, the anger of the Ready, at me.

When the Emartis had attacked the Katurium, they’d released an explosion of shadow, glass, and scrolls with their hateful message—one wrong step, and the glass could have sliced someone’s throat. But Viktor Kormac, the Imperator’s son, had been one of the Lumerians at the scene looking calm, unafraid, even happy. Like he’d known this was coming. My cousin Naria, the daughter of the Emartis’s first leader, my uncle Tarek, had also looked pleased. That was how Tani looked now.

If Tani wasn’t afraid of the accusation, she must have believed she wouldn’t get into trouble.

I didn’t think much of Tani, but I didn’t believe she was that stupid. Which meant her confidence was coming from more than one place. First, she had backing from the Emartis leader, someone powerful enough to protect her from this trial. Second…she must have been planning to shift the attention to me and Rhyan by accusing us of being more than just apprentice and novice and of using kashonim in the habibellum.

Tani’s dark brown eyes met mine, her gaze triumphant.

“Well, let’s continue with the trial,” the Imperator said. He waved a hand dismissively at Aemon.

“Tani, were you or were you not in the apartments during school hours yesterday?” Aemon asked.

“I was, Arkturion,” she said evenly.

Aemon nodded. “Did you engage in a fight with her grace despite knowing you were out of bounds for a fight?”

“I engaged in a fight with her, yes,” Tani said.

I shifted in my seat, not liking the ease with which she answered.

“And when her grace found you, were you wearing the mask of a black seraphim?”

“I was,” Tani said proudly.

“Do you understand what we have discussed? The implications of wearing that mask?”

“I heard everything you said,” Tani replied, eyeing the mask still lying on the floor. Her eyes roved up from the mask to the Imperator standing right before it.

Aemon’s black brows drew together. “Are you aware this mask you wore is connected to a Bamarian terrorist organization?”

“I heard your explanation,” Tani said. “So, yes.”

Rhyan’s eyes flickered to me, and his jaw tensed before he turned back to Tani. Arianna grimaced, a look of disgust spreading across her usually beautiful features. She adjusted the golden cuff around her arm. It was stylized in a very similar manner to mine—with seraphim wings—though hers was massive, covering almost her entire bicep. It was a pure symbol of Ka Batavia’s power. Arianna seemed to be petting the bracelet as if to remind herself it was still there—untouched by the Emartis and their treachery.