The emergency tribunal convened before sunrise. Frostvale's grand hall thrummed with tension as every elder, noble, and tribal representative filled the chamber.
Torin stood at the center, polished armor gleaming.
He lifted a blood‑marked scroll. “Leia Lockwood murdered a state scribe last night. The evidence was about to exonerate her—how convenient it disappeared."
The elders murmured. A few glared toward the defendant's circle—empty.
Cassian entered, cloak soaked from snow, a faint cut across his jaw.
“Where is she?" a councilman demanded.
Cassian didn't answer. Instead, he walked to the dais and dropped something onto the marble.
Leia's shackles—open.
A ripple of confusion spread.
“She fled?" Torin asked, feigning shock.
“No," Cassian said clearly. “I released her."
Gasps.
