The Duke Should Divorce Me, So Why Is He Stalling My Death? novel · Chapter 28 of 32

Chapter 28: The Emperor's Table

They tried her at ten the next morning, in the throne hall, with the doors open.

The Court filled it from wall to wall.

Nobody had slept.

They had dressed in whatever came to hand, with their hair half pinned.

They stood in a dense crowd that went quiet whenever anyone breathed.

The Emperor sat on the throne in a plain gray robe.

He looked old, and he looked very awake.

On his right stood the Prince, bareheaded, with his hands behind him.

On his left stood the Duke and Duchess of Veyrath, side by side.

Lysandra's fingers were laced so tight through her husband's that the knuckles hurt.

At the foot of the steps stood the Saintess.

She wore a plain linen shift.

Her braid had come undone in the night, and her hands were bound before her with white cord, and she did not look up.

"We will begin with the vial," the Emperor said.

The captain of the Veyrath guard stepped out of the crowd, holding a small green glass bottle in a cloth.

"Found, Majesty, in the left sleeve of a maid. Sewn into a false cuff. Stitched there the night before, by the look of the thread."

"Whose maid?" the Emperor said.

"The Saintess's second, Majesty."

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