“You didn’t ask if she had one.” Wyltam’s voice echoed across the empty room.
Rage mixed with adoration, for they would not give her a defense. Wyltam had to save her, the idea of both making her heart skip a beat and her stomach nauseous.
“Your Grace, who do you suppose would stand at her defense since I have already denied the temple custody of her?”
The King stood, taking his time to smooth his clothes and walk to the edge of the dais with his hands pocketed. “I stand in defense of Marietta.”
The bastard. The stupid, helpful bastard. Marietta dug her nails into her palms as she lifted her chin. “I stand in defense of myself,” she responded.
A few chuckles sounded from the side. She caught the gaze of Minister Adryan, who looked delighted by her outburst.
“I don’t think you want to do that, Lady Marietta.” Wyltam’s voice strained as he spoke. “Let me help you.”
Minister Dyieter smirked. “It seems she’s already decided.”
To her left, a squat man with dark hair and tan skin stepped forward and cleared his throat.
“You may speak, Minister Rymos,” Dyieter said.
“The rules of conduct state that the person on trial can choose at any moment to have someone stand in their defense, even after rejecting it,” he said in a hoarse voice. “Marietta may also speak as needed during her statement with any information that may help better inform us Ministers.”
“Well,” Dyieter said, “it’ll be entertaining, at least.”
“Your Grace,” Rymos added, turning to Wyltam, “you are our King. If we go against your defense, how do we ensure you won’t seek retribution?”
Wyltam glanced at him. “If I wanted my ministers to serve me blindly, I would pardon Marietta without a trial.” His dark eyes found her. “But I am not my mother. I ask you all to listen to the information we present and use it for your judgment.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” answered Rymos. “With that in mind, we can continue.”
Dyieter sighed and cleared his throat. “You may begin the defense, King Wyltam.”
Marietta bit back her irritation—of course, they would have him start. She took a deep breath and waited for her opening.
“When Minister Keyain shared he took a wife in secret, I decided to investigate, for there had to be a reason he never brought her to court.” Pausing, he glanced at Keyain. “And the reason had to be beyond her capture by the Exisotis. Over the past couple of months, I sought Marietta’s company, and I would ask her harmless snippets from her life. What I discovered was the truth.”
Marietta furrowed her brows, glancing between Wyltam and Keyain, who paled.
“First, I will address the easily disputable charges—at least easy to dispute when you have a defense.”
Dyieter stiffened with the comment.
“Marietta did not incite that riot.” His voice called in the quietness. “Yesterday, the attendants pleaded on her behalf. We discovered that while a crowd gathered outside, Marietta was within the temple of Therypon, undergoing the ceremony to be named an Iros. My summons for Marietta inspired Satiros’s most devoted to the streets. The guards’ presence put them on edge.” The King paused, gesturing to Keyain. “Though we at court are not ones to follow the deities, it’s not a crime in Satirosto worship them or become any level of their attendants—Iros or otherwise.”
Murmurs echoed from the galley at the King’s words. How easily he dismissed the blatant charge. The ministers orchestrated this, believing Marietta would have no one to defend her.
But she did. She stared at the King with parted lips, raising her brows.
“Second, I was beside Marietta and Valeriya at the time of the assassination. The riot served as a distraction for our guard, leaving high-ranking members of court vulnerable—”
“You and Queen Valeriya had no reason to leave the Royal Suite,” Dyieter said, cutting off the King.
“Do you question our loyalty to our city-state? To our people?” Wyltam asked. “I heard they gathered outside from my summons, and as the leaders of Satiros, we needed to witness it.”
Dyieter bit down his retort, motioning for King Wyltam to continue.
“As I was saying, Valeriya sensed the attack before it happened, warning us to return inside. Yet when the assassin struck, Valeriya protected Marietta.”
“Why would the Queen of Satiros risk her life for a pilinos?” Dyieter asked, drawling out the word.
