Dhvani's trial was held in the public audience chamber. Her seat had been set in the heart of the room, right between the outstretched breccia wings drooping from the high ceiling above; right where she would gaze directly up into the eyes of the great capradon, its head chiselled into the wall behind the dais, its many-branched horns curving into the ceiling, its ivory beak eclipsing Judhistir in his throne.

Of course Dhvani chose not to appear in her own trial, so the Rama stared now at an empty stump chair. But the entire city made up for her absence. Commonfolk from the anterior ring, merchants from the posterior, nobleborn guests visiting the palatial ring—everyone had come to attend the hearing. All three sets of the chamber's titanic doors had been thrown open and crowds spilled over the massive hall outside, down the palace steps, and out into the courtyard.

Only select guests were permitted into the chamber itself. They fanned the empty dogwood chair on cushions upon the marble floor; Dhvani's daughters right at the forefront, Omana Obusirjan wedged between them, and Djuro Obusirjan behind.

'So Rajini Dhvani is responsible for the death of several dhayang.' Khaisan slouched back in his seat, right of Judhistir's throne, not even attempting to mask his disinterest. 'That does not mean she, too, is responsible for Rajini Amarin's death. Her lust for theurgy drove her to taking all those innocent dhayang—what motive could she have for killing your mother?'

They had just heard from the runesmith, whose testimony came in exchange for lenience in his own sentencing. Kiet knew the answer Khaisan was fishing for. Too bad Dhvani was not there to provide it.

'Her motives are quite irrelevant at this stage; nor is there any use in speculating, so I'll offer no such thing. I am here only to present evidence.'

The runesmith was only the opening; the introduction to Dhvani's long history of deception and violence. Proof of Dhvani's penchant to murder for personal gain. Kiet's mother was not the first Dhvani had killed, but hopefully she will be her last.

He called forth a string of servants—the head steward of Dhvani's estates, her former captain of guards, her personal chambermaid—but none knew where the rajini had been during the attacks that night. The last her chambermaid had seen, Dhvani had been rushing out of her study.

'And that had been before or after you felt the tremors in the ground?'

The young lady shook when she answered. 'Before, maharaj. Maybe a half hour later was when I felt the first shakes.'

'And afterwards? Did you see the rajini again?'

'No, maharaj.'

Kiet turned to the dais. 'Does the Bench have any questions for her?'

'No, I have no questions for her.' Khaisan drawled. 'I am not interested in speaking to people who did not see the rajini during the time of the murder! Or will you next call the washwives of the anterior ring to speak?'

'All in good time, nephew.'

Kiet had had all of Dhvani's House questioned and checked. Not a single one of them could attest to her whereabouts that night. Even her own captain of guards testified witnessing her descend into the tunnels with only her silver-servant in toe and seeing nothing of either of them since.

He thanked his witnesses and dismissed them, leaving their four seats once more unoccupied.

'Since I need to conclude things for your benefit: Four separate accounts now have I presented.' He raised his voice to carry throughout the chamber. 'All bearing witness to Rajini Dhvani's movements leading up to the quakes that brought my mother's labyrinths down. All point to the fact that the rajini had indeed been on her way towards my mother's estate.'

'If anything, that proves only her presence, not her guilt.'

'I am just begun, Khaisan.' Kiet drew a heavy breath. There was no other way about it. 'Allow me now to present my key witness. One who was present at the time of my mother's murder.'

Gasps and whispers filled the room. Kiet turned, searched the seated crowd, his eyes drawn instantly towards her. Isla sat close to the wall, the truth-weaver behind her—not so close as to imply affiliation, but close enough to annoy Kiet.

'Lilja Shapor.'

Isla rose, nowhere near as confident as she usually seemed. She stepped between the row of cushions, making her way slowly towards the aisle, and bowed before the dais.

Khaisan's eyes narrowed until finally it clicked in that mediocre brain of his. 'Rajini Chei's messenger?'

'Not at the time of the assault,' said Kiet. He motioned Isla to take her place upon the witness seat before presenting Isla—Lilja—'s identification papers to the judiciary bench. 'She was a dhayang at the palace academy. Her papers show that Rajini Chei signed her release a month following the attack.'

Of course Chei left plenty of room in the timeline to sever connections. He expected nothing less from the rajini. He flipped to the page in the booklet, dated and stamped with both the academy and rajini's seal, and stepped up the dais to shove it under Khaisan's nose.

Khaisan checked the page before turning his gaze up at Isla. 'So tell me why you are here, dhayang. What is your involvement in Rajini Amarin's death?'

'Nothing, maharam!' Isla paused to collect herself before continuing, 'I was only in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was there in the labyrinths the night it happened. I saw the murder with my very own eyes.'

'You were a dhayang at the time.'

'Just as Maharaj Kiet has said.'

'Not yet retained by Rajini Chei—nor any other member of the royal Houses, for that matter.'

'Correct.'

'So what were you doing in Rajini Amarin's labyrinths?'

'Ah—' Isla faltered.

Had not the question occurred to her? It was the most obvious a judiciary bench would ask. Kiet chuckled, stepped down the dais towards her. 'She was there under my invitation, nephew. Well—not at the labyrinths specifically—but I often use the tunnels to bring my, ah, guests ... discreetly ... into my chambers.'

Her eyes opened as wide as her mouth, but of course she said nothing to contradict his explanation. Kiet smiled down at Isla. Say goodbye to that impetuous little plot of yours, my love. Even Khaisan would have more self respect than to entertain the advances of a social-climbing courtesan.

'So your idea of a key witness to your mother's death is your own illicit lover?'

'Why not? If she can answer all your questions, detail every piece of information even I am not privy to, then that should suffice as evidence of her presence.'

'There was a cat.' Isla interrupted. Even Kiet turned at that. Judging from her smugness, this was at least one question she had anticipated. 'At least, I saw one in the dungeons. I did not see it perish, but I doubt it escaped the collapse. An orange tabby with a spotted muzzle. You might have found it amongst the rubble. It would have been in the guard chamber connected to the dungeons in which Rajini Amarin was found.'

Up on the dais, Khaisan turned to look at his father, far on the other side of Judhistir. The chamber filled with whispers as the royal archivists were called and consulted.

'My mother did not keep a tabby in her collection,' said Kiet, more to Isla than to anyone else.

'I don't think it belonged to your mother.'

'She's correct.' At long last, an archivist's voice echoed across the hall. An aging man stepped onto the dais at Judhistir's beckon, unfurling a scroll in his hands. 'I apologise for the long wait, Your Serene Highness; we could not find it at first for we only listed the ... ah ... human casualties. But this is in our records for mass cremations held following the attack upon Rajini Amarin: Orange and white cat, black-spotted nose. Possible bondmate. And if you check the notes beneath it—'

'Recovered amongst the remains of the late Rajini Amarin's dungeons,' read Persi aloud.

Kiet could help not his curiosity. 'Did anyone come forth to claim the bondmate?'

'No, maharaj. It was cremated en masse with other unclaimed remains.'

Never mind. 'Well there you have it, nephew. Our archive registry will show I've not even glimpsed at our cremation records—so this is every bit as news to me as it is you.'

Persi dismissed the royal archivist and turned his attention fully upon Isla. 'You have gained my ears, so tell us concisely what took place that night; how you came to be ... in the wrong place at the wrong time, as you say.'

'Ah—well ...' Isla stumbled over her words, her face turning red. She shot a glare in Kiet's direction—too fast for anyone but him to notice. 'I was ... returning from my ... visit to the maharaj when I heard the alarm bells struck.'

'You were there when he was poisoned?'

'She left moments before,' said Kiet. 'I like to have a quiet drink after I—you know.'

He relished the wince that crossed Isla's face. But just as he hoped, she was quick enough to make use of the story he set up for her. 'I was already making my way towards the tunnels when the gongs were struck. I did not know what had happened, but several of Rajini Amarin's guards saw me and started chasing me down. I ... I am not proud to admit, but I fled. I ran into the labyrinths and got lost in my panic. Eventually I found myself in the old guard chamber, but then I heard voices, fighting, then the ground started to shake; so I ran into the connecting dungeon and hid there until the rajini and her men found me.'

'What did this dungeon look like?'

Isla described it down to the last floor trap. The fire channel running down its central lane, the number of cells it contained. Kiet listened, just as absorbed as the rest of them, as she described how she cowered inside one of the cells when his mother entered along with fifteen men.

'We lost four and twenty soldiers that night,' interrupted Khaisan. 'That is much more than your claim of fifteen.'

'Yes, but only fifteen were indeed found together in that dungeon with my mother,' said Kiet. 'The rest died either in the menagerie or from the floor traps upon the higher levels of the labyrinths.'

Khaisan fell back into silence, and Persi waved at Isla to continue.

She described how Dhvani came upon them with only her silver-servant, the latter beating his mother's guards down with his terrakindry.

'One man against fifteen?' asked Khaisan, an eyebrow raised.

'He used the floor traps to his benefit.' Isla shrugged. 'It was too dark for projectiles, too many things happening all at once. The aisle was narrow besides, so they could not all fight against him at once.'

And in the chaos, Dhvani had grabbed his mother by the hair and flung her to the ground. Kiet turned away as Isla recounted the scene. His mother was stabbed too many times for Isla to count.

More whispers broke amongst the crowd. Some even stifled their cries.

'Thirteen, according to the therapeut who prepared her body,' said Kiet once she was finished. 'If still you question the veracity of her testimony, then I challenge you to present even a single error in her report. Or I can call forth Rajini Chei, if you will hear her, or any one of her entire retinue of soldiers who also saw Dhvani with the bloodied knife, kneeling over my mother. They await, ready to be called as witness.'

'Their written testimony will suffice.'

'Very well.' Kiet approached the gilded table before Judhistir's throne, upon which the murder weapon lay wrapped in linen. He took it, unwrapped it to present to the chamber. Most of the blood had gone, but some had dried upon its now rusted steel. Long and thin, slightly waved like a keris. 'In that case, I call upon my next key witness. Raj Djuro. Will you join us at the witness seat?'

Djuro rose to the gasp of his mother and nieces. He stepped over their row without so much as a glance back.

Cold. Kiet sniffed as Djuro took a seat beside Isla. 'What can you tell us about this weapon?'

'It was a gift from my father.'

'So you can confirm this belongs to Rajini Dhvani?'

'Without a doubt.'

'Lies!' Omana Obusirjan shook a trembling fist into the air. 'Such a common weapon could belong to anyone.'

Djuro ignored her outburst. A smile broke across his face, ripe with satisfaction. 'If I may, maharaj?'

Kiet gave a single nod, and the raj pulled something from the pocket of his own robe, offering it up into Kiet's hands. Another keris—an exact twin—only this one smooth and untaited. Kiet brought it up onto the dais.

'He had a keris commissioned,' came Djuro's voice from behind. 'One for each of his children. You will see that they are identical.'

Judhistir received the keris with both hands and studied the pair side by side. There was no mistaking the same craftsmanship that went into both weapons—the same metals, same patterns, same gilded hilt and jewels that adorned it.

'A cheap replica and nothing else!' Omana rose now to her feet, despite her granddaughters' attempts of keeping her down. 'You have always been envious of your sister, but to revert to such a low ploy as this to disgrace her name—'

'Forgive me, Syuri Omana, but I can allow no further disruption to the hearing.' Kiet cast an inquiring look towards the judiciary bench. 'Unless, of course, the Bench wishes to call upon you as defence.'

Judging by the look on Djuro's face, he longed for them to do exactly that. But when neither left nor right judiciary bench took Kiet up on his offer, he spoke, 'If you wish, I can give you the name of the bladesmith who forged our weapons, and the commission papers our father issued decades ago.'

The anger on Omana's face withered quickly into a shadow of fear. She looked down at Eshka, then at Divya, but neither of her granddaughters could much do.

Kiet collected the papers from Djuro's outstretched hand, passed them on to the judiciary bench.

'And of course'—a folded note, this time, offered straight into Kiet's hands—'a note sent to the Obsidian Fortress.'

Kiet had done his homework

He unfolded the letter, held it high for all the Bench to read. 'This note was delivered personally to Syuri Omana. As you can well see, it contains only a date and location. Bayali Bay. A city off the coast of Kaswar. It is a lesser-known port stop for traders and merchant ships to service their vessels. Of course on its own, this note means nothing.'

He paused and waved for one of his attendants. A man scuttled along from a corner of the room, rolls of parchment cradled in his arms. He shuffled through them before finally passing one to the maharaj and returning to the shadows of his recess.

'But upon further enquiries,' Kiet continued, delivering the parchment into Judhistir's outstretched hand, 'I discovered that a Tsun trading ship stopped for service upon this very bay upon this very date. Our border inspectors were accommodating enough to finally send through a list of passengers who dismounted and boarded the vessel. You will find that amongst the latter, one Olea Dyatmanu was present, accompanied by an Arya Durajat.'

Omana's lips thinned to a quivering line as his gaze fell upon her.

'Arya Durajat, as we've all but recently learnt, is none other than Rajini Dhvani's most trusted silver-servant—whose own trial we held mere weeks ago. Now Dyatmanu ... that happens to be Syuri Omana's born-name, and Olea happens to be one of her long-deceased sisters. So unless Olea blossomed from the buds of her decades-old frangipani tree, I have other guesses as to whom this woman might have truly been. Coincidentally enough, I did find Rajini Dhvani in Tsun territory.'

'Yes,' Khaisan interrupted, his voice back to its bored drawl. 'We all know the rajini fled. This is hardly proof of anything. Only that one tends to fear for their life, if one were accused of regicide.'

'I bring this note as evidence not only to highlight her family's complicity in her abscondment, but to complete the timeline of Rajini Dhvani's actions before, during, and after the events of my mother's murder. None of them point to the actions of an innocent woman.' Kiet paused to bask in Omana's furious gaze before turning back to Khaisan. 'I will allow now the right judiciary bench to present his defence.'

Judhistir looked to his heir, brows raised in anticipation.

But for once Khaisan's failure was due not to any incompetence or indolence on his part. Who was he to call as witness when there were none? Dhvani's guilt could be not suppressed.

'The rajini has left me little to work with,' he admitted through grit teeth. 'It is as you say. Rajini Dhvani has invoked her right for trial without participation—naturally has she declined to be brought forward for questioning. I call only her silver-servant forth.'

☆ this chapter is dedicated to PalomaEscribar ☆

Video: The Winter Palace (OST. Dragon Age: Inquisition) by Trevor Morris
Image: Original artists unknown

The trial finally begins! Luckily Kiet's thought of some answers for Isla; hopefully she can fill in some gaps for Kiet, as well . . . do you think these two can work together well enough to once and for all put Dhvani to justice?

Welcome back and welcome to 2023! My writing spirit has been eluding me these past few months, so to try and lure her back, I'm returning to the world by answering some more reader Q&A. This one is about the Surikh House symbols and what they mean—one of which, by the way, is what the title of Book 2 is referring to. Click on the external or inline link to read it!