Celeste’s question changed the direction of every face in the hall.
Not toward Albert. Toward Evelyn.
“Are you punishing me for abusing power,” Celeste had asked, “or are you doing it to win back your mistress?”
The word struck the old connection like a hand against a bruise. Evelyn kept her good hand flat beside the evidence. Her injured shoulder burned beneath the uniform, but she refused to shift beneath the court’s attention. Marcus did not look at Albert.
He watched her.
Albert rose behind the judgment table.
“The verdict will answer you.”
Celeste’s fingers tightened around the table edge. Albert signaled the clerk.
“Silas Morland is found responsible for repeated assaults against women employed in noble and palace households.”
Silas jerked in his chair. His uncle stood. “Tho
