* * *
Gerald
* * *
It's strange to see the whole family depart for one destination as we leave. Usually everyone runs off in a different direction to whatever task they're set on, typically either in the Armed or Poet Halls. Now we all amble in...generally the same direction, and everyone looks pretty uncomfortable about it.
Well, at least I'm not the only one looking awkward now. Now it looks like everyone's daddy stole Katherine from them.
Stevane ambles up beside me for a moment while we're all in a group. Just a brief break from staying at the Poet King's side. (I'm...well, I'm surprised. He does have his episodes from time to time, and he does need a lot of assistants to keep him from overworking himself, but this is the first time I've heard of a constant attendant being assigned to him. I wonder what I've missed in the Poet Hall in the time I've been gone...) She looks up at me, then looks away, giving my arm a quick hug before grumbling, "Missed you," in an accusatory tone. "Don't worry me again." I snort, and then she elbows me in the side in a way that makes me wheeze. Those gold eyes glare up into mine. I smile halfheartedly, then ruffle her hair. She's still shorter than me, thank goodness. I don't want her looming over me like Lute always does.
"I'll try. You been good while I've been away?" She tosses her hair in reply to that. She's about to reply, but then she jerks mid-step and darts back to the Poet King's side.
"I'm fine," he reassures Stevane, but she remains unconvinced. Jhe h'Logos isn't smiling much right now. Considering his brother's being tried...
I glance up to Katherine. She's up ahead at the Judge's side. She'll be his Poet for the Trial, as always. Lyric's in front of them both, Father's hand on his back.
...Wait, why is Lyric getting led into the chambers with those two? Even as a witness, that'd make no sense...
He's not getting accused, is he? I start to go forward to ask, but I can't force my steps to close the distance between us. Something's holding me back, like I've been given an order. My eyes widen. I am being ordered back.
Going forward would get in the way of Justice. My heart almost jumps up into my chest. It's true, then. Lyric's going on Trial too.
Why didn't anyone tell me? Why's everyone been acting so normal?
* * *
'Sy
* * *
I keep my focus on my son.
He's done so well thus far. Ever since he got back to Radia, he has really tried to do as requested and answer questions. He has answered honestly in almost every regard. It pains me that his honesty has not been complete.
I cannot carry out Justice without bringing him in alongside his accuser. Perhaps my methods seem heavy-handed. Perhaps you might think me a bad Father. But of all ways to settle this, there is only this one that is Just. I have to take the path of the Law. It is all that I am.
I will admit that some things about this case disquiet me, as much as I like to keep the appearance that I've seen everything before and look stoic in the face of it all. One of those things, one of those deeply disturbing things, will likely keep me awake for many nights ahead of me.
This son of mine is no Armed, but he knows full well what his place in this procession means. I am disturbed, even dismayed, by the fact that he doesn't question it and accepts it without even a flinch of hesitation. That full-knowing admission of guilt is not something I want to see in this circumstance. Being a Father has been very hard for me, if you can understand. There are so many things about my children that I don't want to know, and other parents, the lucky ones, aren't able to look, don't need to look. I could check now, you know, but it has to be during Trial. Otherwise it's no use. I learned very early not to make exceptions.
I can't.
* * *
Ebrellin-i
* * *
The dogs drag me out of my cell like I'm a mangy cur. This collar isn't enough for the Judge. No...no. There must be chains for me as well, to bind my arts and natural talents. As if any of them have the right.
I'll be back in my homeland shortly. Mark those words well. Then, there shall be war. I'll cast away the treaty like so much old dust and scraps, and level the Land flat until it obeys me. They don't know what they've unleashed. Radia should have known never to touch that which it does not own.
I hold myself up well. Like someone they only wish they were, which is obviously a part of this scandal. Tall, graceful, aloof. My crown's been taken away, but there's no mistake of who, and what, I am.
Let them have an early taste. I'll rule them all when this fiasco is over.
* * *
Lyric
* * *
I'm actually pretty positive about this whole thing. So don't worry about me.
I still have the bullet, you know. Gerald's bullet. Bruce and Wagner's gunmetal voices echo through my mind as clear as ever. Maybe even clearer now. I heard them in my dreams. I heard them through breakfast.
I'll keep trusting them. That bullet's been the only thing I could rely on through my whole debacle. I shouldn't be afraid anymore. Daddy's right behind me, and I choose to take courage in that, not fear.
So, let it be known to all the generations to come: I absolutely do not wet my pants at any time throughout the entire Trial.
* * *
Stevane
* * *
Is it a little strange that the first thing I really hook my eyes onto when I enter the Court is my Uncle? I'm attending Jhe h'Lete very closely, of course. But I'm watching my Uncle. I guess he's always managed to grab my attention like that. Jhe h'Lete makes jokes that I'm mixing up who I work for, but they're just as good-natured as all his occasional jibes at me are. He's told me he admires the amount of respect I have for my Uncle. ...Then he'll go on and follow that up with a comment on how I should really tighten up my etiquette if I'm so intent on following around a high official.
Maybe I can convey just what it is that grabs me about him.
The Court is Daddy's room when there's a Trial. It's his spectacle. Yes, I say spectacle. I know it's Justice, but it seems like a part of that Justice is the display and the ritual just as much as it is the Law. Of course, those things are very much a part of Daddy, and he is the Law, so I guess it makes sense. But, for all intents and purposes, consider the Jhe o'Radia's Court to be the Judge's arena right now. Unkie is now its principle audience.
During Unkie's regular days of holding Court, the arrangement is a bit different, with him as the prominent figure and the whole interior arranged to compliment that. For the Trial, it's a different shape. Seating is raised up all around in a circle around the central floor, where the Judge presides. There is a podium, of sorts, but it's not used as much as you'd think. Well, you'll see for yourself. It stands under Unkie's throne, which is raised up with the rest of the balconied seating. Both Podium and throne face the doors that enter into the Court.
When I walk in with Jhe h'Lete and Gerald (and Lute somewhere in the back shadows, like always, but he is here), I stay to the right and a step behind the Poet King as he comes forward, presents himself with a simple bow, and then is dismissed to be seated in the upper rows. I like swinging Duty during a Trial because then I can sit with him. He always gets a really good seat. Also it kind of helps me get let in at all. They stopped letting me attend Court when I was a little kid because I was kind of disruptive. Sometimes one of the guards that knows me will try to give me crap when I enter alone, even though that old ruling's been overturned and it's obvious I know how to behave myself like an adult now. The cheek!
Gerald looks nervous as heck, which isn't really much different from his default mode when he's come back from a mission. I yank his arm so that he follows us up into the good seats. "You ought to check in with the King, you dope. You weren't out as an Armed on that mission." He gives me this surprised blink, then nods and follows us.
"You're not worried about your brother?" His voice is so tense with concern that it squeaks.
I shrug. "If he got this far without Dad killing him I can't see how he won't slide through somehow. He couldn't have done anything that bad, anyway." I cast a glare back at him that almost freezes him. "Unless you know something that I don't."
Gerald juts his chin up. "I have to report in to the King on that. You said it yourself, little trainee." I'm about to rise to that old bait and correct him, but Jhe h'Lete gestures for me to heel.
He glances back at us as we walk around to the front, in the nearest group of seats to Unkie. "I'll give out the designations, thank you, Poet." He tilts his head at Gerald in that way of his that's condescending in such an undefinable way that no one can call him on it. Gerald flushes and clenches his fists.
Yeah, the challenged-at-etiquette thing? Kind of a family tradition.
Oh, and getting back to it, my Uncle. I wouldn't say it's the fact that he's on his throne, though he looks absolutely glorious up there, dressed in some of his most formal attire. It's not that it's a Trial, either, though that is when he looks his most serious and insightful. It's just him. He sees things. Daddy sees things too, of course. Unkie always sees them. Whether he chooses to always look, or whether he can't turn it off, there's something in his eyes, in the set of his face. Like he's watching the world, all the world, with concentrated attention. It's even in his posture, in the way his shoulders tilt back and his spine aligns with his back at the base of his neck. His eyes are this light blue that, when he really concentrates, seems to turn so clear that it's white, or tints straight into yellow. He can pin you with those eyes, even from high up on his throne. It's not that kind of pinning that Daddy does, where all the breath goes right out of you. You just have this clarity of being seen, of all the attention of the world being set on you, and you'd better do something now that it has been. Something very interesting. During a Trial, it's even more potent.
Maybe that's what it is about him. I don't know. Maybe Daddy would know better, or Jhe h'Lete.
My brother Lyric is standing alone in the middle of the Court. He looks as relaxed and as confident as I remember him being. Maybe it's because Unkie's looking at him. I don't know. It makes me feel better that Lyric's acting so calm about this, though. He really is a very good person. He should be fine. And I have some other foundations for my hunch on that, but...
...Well, I don't write about that stuff right now. Being at a Trial makes it awkward enough for me. It's easier to focus on Jhe h'Lete and stop thinking about it. He needs someone to pay attention to him. Daddy just can't watch him at all times.
Speaking of Jhe h'Logos, Gerald is whispering things to my King, but he probably wants privacy so I make it a point not to listen in too hard. I'll hear the report in good time. I get to read all the good notes nowadays, especially when I'm bringing the King his tea. What can I say, I have a knack for picking the best jobs for being nosy! It's another family tradition.
Daddy steps behind the podium. He looks over to Jhe Katherine, who is sitting at her desk to the Court's side, facing the accused. She gives him that precise little nod.
He calls Court into order.
Characters:
