The courtroom erupted in whispers until Duke Wesseros raised his hands. He had threatened to clear the courtroom several times during the last week of testimony, and the crowd quieted quickly. “It is not your place to lecture your betters on Cenarian law.”

“Then you tell me, Your Grace, was or was not Duke Gyre formally made King Gunder’s heir and was or was not he married to Jenine Gunder, and did or did not that confer on him the right of succession?”

Duke Wesseros purpled, but said nothing. If he agreed, he would concede that Terah should never have been made queen and that he should have never sworn fealty to her. If he explained his decision was based on practicalities, he would sound like a weasel or a coward.

“I wouldn’t have killed Terah Graesin if my betters had followed the law rather than their cocks and their coin purses,” Kylar said.

This time, the whispers were forestalled by Logan’s raised hand. He wore a thin gold band around his brow, but otherwise little to denote his kingship. “There is some truth in what you say. On the eve of Pavvil’s Grove, some of us made regrettable compromises. In the end, however, Cenaria’s nobility delivered into Duchess Graesin’s hands the scepter and the sword, and we placed the crown upon her brow. It is not the prerogative of a commoner to shed blood to correct what he sees as the nobility’s errors. Therefore, Kagé, you stand convicted of murder and treason.”

A hush fell.

“This tribunal has further questions, which we ask you to answer for both your own sake and Cenaria’s. If you answer fully and forthrightly, you will be granted a merciful death. If not, you will be bound to the wheel.” Logan held his face impassive, but his stomach turned. The wheel was a cruel death, as bad as Alitaeran cruxing or Modaini drawing and quartering. It was the established punishment for treason. Only treasonous nobles were beheaded, and it had been established that Kylar was no noble. A merciful death for testimony was the most Logan could do for his friend.

“I will answer all I can without compromising my honor,” Kylar said.

“Are you a member of the Sa’kagé?” Logan asked.

“Yes.”

“Are you an assassin?”

Kylar sneered. “Assassins have targets. Wetboys have deaders. I was a wetboy.”

There was a sudden electricity in the room, like thunderheads were rolling by. The crowd had become an audience, and they were pleased with the show. They were getting a chance to peek behind the veil at the Sa’kagé, and they wouldn’t miss it for the world.

“‘Was’?” Duke Wesseros interjected.

“I split with the Sa’kagé during the coup. I don’t kill for money now.”

“So you claim no one ordered you to kill the queen?” Logan asked.