Chapter 13: The Wintermere White

I did not drink Brenna's tonic.

I carried the tin back to the palace healer with the lid still sealed, and Lucan walked beside me with his jaw set.

The healer opened it, sniffed once, and said, "Moonroot. Double strength."

"Keep it," Lucan said. "I heard every word she said, and I'll repeat them under oath if I must."

"Not yet," I said. "Let her think it worked."

I slept three hours with his arm across my ribs, and I woke before the bell.

The great hall was grey at first light, with the long windows white from the frost.

Twelve councilors sat on the dais in their dark robes.

The Duke sat at the end of the row with his son behind him, and Osric stood below with Garrick at his shoulder.

Brenna waited at the back of the Graymoor benches with a small, sure smile.

She believed I had taken the double dose.

Lucan stood at the foot of the dais, and he did not touch me, because the law said he could not.

The eldest councilor, a bent man with a white beard to his belt, struck the floor with his staff.

"The ward Morwen Ainsley will show her wolf to this council," he said. "Is she ready?"

"I am," I said.

A screen of grey cloth had been set up beside the dais.

I went behind it and took off my dress and put on the plain linen robe they had left for me.

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