“Is not waking up to a dead body in the bed with me enough?” Mariel dropped her forehead to her knees. “I must have been in shock, because the next thing I knew, I was surrounded by those white villains.”

“The Virtues. Do you remember anything else? Was there someone else in the room when you woke?”

“I don’t know! I don’t remember!”

“It’s okay,” Celeste soothed. “I’m only asking.”

Mariel looked up at her through her hair. “So you believe me?”

“Of course.”

She sniffed, wiping roughly at her face. “Do you think you can make the Virtues believe me?”

Above them, machinery rumbled to life. The elevator was coming back.

“I’m going to try, but listen, Mariel. Why do you think they named me your advocatus?”

Her brow furrowed in confusion. “Because you’re smart and honest.”

It was nice to hear it, but Celeste knew the truth. “Because Ibrahim thinks I will fail.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Look around you, this place you’re in. They would not treat you this poorly if they ever expected you to walk free again. Imagine the scandal, to treat you like this.”

Mariel stared at Celeste, her words penetrating.

“And who am I?” Celeste continued. “A young woman untrained in the law, which Ibrahim assures me won’t matter. He takes me for a fool, or worse, a dog performing an impressive trick.”

“I—I don’t understand.”

“He’s playing some kind of game. One I haven’t quite unraveled yet. But I know a man looking to cheat when I see one, and Ibrahim is as sharp as they come. But he’s underestimated me, Mariel. Underestimated us. As all men do. And we’ll make him pay for it.”

The boom of the elevator coming to a stop reverberated. Celeste peered down the corridor to see Ibrahim’s lamplight disengage from the darkness and move their way.

“And I have help. Hypatia, and…” She hesitated, unsure whether to tell her about Abraxas. She was not sure Mariel would appreciate the demon lord’s involvement, even if it was to her benefit. Celeste settled on “another benefactor. We will get you out of here. That I promise. I won’t leave you to the Virtues’ mercies.”

As Ibrahim’s footsteps came closer, Celeste stood, straightening her clothes and dusting the dirt from her hands. Accompanying him were two more Virtues. One held a medicine bag and bore the rod of healing that marked him as from the Order of Raphael. The other carried a jug of water and a bowl of something that smelled like gruel.

“I’ve brought the things you requested,” Ibrahim said. His bushy gray eyebrow arched upward, and he winked. “I trust that gave you ample time to talk privately, as I assume you intended?”

Celeste moved away from the cell, lowering her voice. “When will her trial be held?”