“Of course.” She inclined her head in a bow of submission. “Bastiaan took King Vämbat into the Stillness to change his mind about letting commonfolk visit the Well. Neither would bend in their opinions. Years passed until King Vämbat had an accident. He was trapped in a burning library and managed to crawl out. Bastiaan found him, returned him to the schloss, and resumed time in hopes that a healer would be able to save him. As we know, the king then died.”

“He would not have burned to death if he hadn’t been trapped in time,” Hartmut argued.

“But it was wholly separate from Bastiaan.” Anouk stepped aside, leaving him exposed once again on the throne room floor.

“This does not excuse him from kidnapping the king!” someone else said. “Just because the king died from an accident inside the prison of this man’s Talent doesn’t make the captor innocent.”

They deliberated for several long minutes, then Hartmut finally took a vote. “Those in favor of acquittal?” Three hands went up—all from the older council members. “Those who find him guilty?”

More hands raised, Hartmut’s included. No hesitancy. One after the other until they outnumbered the first set of voters.

Hartmut faced him, mouth grim.

“Bastiaan Duur, you are hereby sentenced to death by Bane, to be carried out by Luuk at sunrise.”

Chapter 63
Coralythe

Coralythe paced the chamber. Runt would be arriving any minute, and she’d yet to decide how ill to allow herself to feel. He was bound to hate her—to misunderstand. Or perhaps he wouldn’t. She didn’t know. Oh, this was a mess.

Yet it had the potential to be so perfect.

She stopped in the middle of the room, hands clasped behind her back. No, in front of her. Loose at her sides. Curse it all.

A key fitted into the lock, and at the last moment, she darted into a shadow along the side of the room. A militair entered with Runt. The militair looked around the room with a frown, then spotted Coralythe. He didn’t say anything, just released Runt and left. Insolent worm. The militairen had never shown her any respect, not even as she stood at Mattias’s side. Not even after she made it possible for them all to receive Banes. Ungrateful, they were.

But she hadn’t done any of this for them.

The lock clicked behind him.

Runt surveyed the room, then strode to the dresser and peeked in the drawers. He rifled through the folded clothes and then worked at prying something off the inner side of the drawer. Coralythe had planned to reveal herself by this point, but curiosity won out. At last his hand emerged with a bent piece of metal—a chunk of the drawer’s metal paneling.