Maryelle’s POV
The chamber holds its breath.
The foreman rises, his voice steady but heavy. “We have reached a verdict.”
Every eye turns to him. The silence is suffocating, stretched taut like a rope about to snap. A cough echoes from the back row, a chair scrapes against stone, and still the chamber waits. My pulse hammers in my ears, each beat louder than the last. Memories of Canum’s cruelty flicker — his hand gripping my wrist, his voice dripping venom — and I clutch Phantom’s arm as if it alone can anchor me.
The words fall like stones. “On the charges brought against Canum… guilty.”
Gasps ripple through the chamber. Nobles cry out, some in disbelief, others in relief. The foreman’s voice trembles, but the verdict is clear. My knees weaken, breath shudders out of me, and Phan
