The Reckless Reign (Book 3, The Culled Crown Series)

Chapter 77

The Throne Room.
Oredison Palace, Gazda.
Sanctus Melynda—Kai's Trial.

Seeing Britta Warwick sitting on Viera's throne was strange. They looked so similar, that at a glance, one queen could be mistaken for another. But as I took my seat next to Nadia in the balcony, I reminded myself that Britta was not Viera. She was her own person.

She'd listened to Isla and allowed her to break off her engagement with Justinian so she could be with Annalise. She'd sent Darragh away after she'd found out what he'd tried to do to us. I needed to believe that she would give Kai what compassion she could muster.

As soon as I took my seat, Nadia's hand wrapped in mine. Healing warmth pulsed through me, soothing the still yellowing bruise on my cheek, the almost faded scar on my forehead, the nearly gone scratches on my thighs. The bullet wounds. I'd grown so used to these small jolts of healing throughout the day, that I hardly noticed her doing it anymore.

Bile rose in my throat, pressing against the waves of healing she was coaxing through my body as the guards pulled Kai to a stop before Britta's throne. I balled my free hand in the skirt of my dress, the sweat of my palms making the fabric stick to my skin. Nadia's glanced to me and then looked to where Cohen stood.

He stood to his sister's left. While Britta kept her expression a mask of bland indifference, Cohen's royal mask had fallen away weeks ago and he'd never picked it up again. Emotion aged his face slightly and shone in his blue eyes. He'd always been a man, but we were all so young that it was easy to forget. Looking at him just then, he looked like a young man. Like a soldier. And yet there was a vulnerability, a sort of deep rooted sadness, about him that I'd never seen on his face before, it made me nervous.

He watched as his half-brother waked to the base of dais.

The only sound in the room was the resounding crack of Kai's knees against marble as the guards shoved him down. I winced and Nadia's hand tightened around mine. On my other side, Heidi only pursed her lips and leaned towards the railing, enraptured.

Britta's voice echoed around the throne room as she said, "State your given name."

I held my breath.

But Kai didn't hesitate, he didn't even lift his gaze to meet her's as he said, "Kaius Reid Callahan."

Britta tilted her head slightly the only sign that he'd surprised her. To her right, a Synod member I didn't recognize shifted on his feet. He muttered something under his breath, but Kai didn't look up at him. From my vantage point, I couldn't see all of his face, just his profile, so I didn't know exactly where he was looking, but it wasn't anywhere near Britta's eyes.

He was playing it safe. Between Vayelle, Erydia, Haniver, and Pellarmus, there were four different cultures and sets of royal etiquette gathered in this room. There was also the Synod and the press, a few select courtiers, and citizens who'd been able to find a way into the room to watch. There were so many people to please. Naturally someone would find something offensive.

Some here might see Kai's lack of eye contact as a sign of disrespect—it seemed the Synod member felt that way—but Britta didn't. She only leaned back in her throne and tapped a finger along the onyx arm of it. The Synod member leaned closer to her, still whispering. She lifted a hand and waved him away.

The man blanched and stepped back from her throne.

After a second, Britta turned her attention back to Kai. "Callahan," she said quietly, as if this were a conversation just between the two of them and not a spectacle. "Not Warwick?"

His gaze remained locked on the steps of the dais as he answered, "I'm not a Warwick, Your Majesty."

"Not a Warwick?" She scoffed. "Your actions over the last few months—likely years—have shown you believe otherwise."