Page 69 of Muse

“That’s not a bad way to live,” Wrenley allowed. “But have you tried smithing your enemies?”

"What enemy would you even be smiting?" Briar asked. "Royal bureaucracy? Classism? Both seem kind of strange when you hope to be a monarch of Lamida after only spending three weeks there.”

"Oh, wow, Bri, kick me while I'm down." Xe pretended to be wounded, but xe actually looked impressed.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Briar’s cheeks reddened with shame. “I didn’t mean to be harsh.”

"No, I know I shouldn't be wallowing and that Asmond and I still have so much to figure out." Wrenley sighed. "I wish we could just say 'the heart what the heart wants' and be free to marry as we wish."

“Monarchies and magickal tribunals never care anything about love,” I said sullenly.

“Usually, Tribunals won’t involve themselves with matters of love at all,” Briar said. “They even have a whole doctrine about it.”

I straightened up when I remembered the words that Adora made me read over and over again as a child. Every time I misbehaved, Adora would set me at a desk with a copy of the Regula, and she would make me copy whole pages in my perfect calligraphy. Mostly, she chose sections that focused on obedience and service, but other times, she'd have me run straight through. And suddenly, a passage sprung into my mind.

“The Doctrine of the Heart’s True Course,” I said.

“That’s night. It says we can’t do love spells to make someone either fall in love or out of love with anyone else,” Briar said.

Wrenley sat up. “No, that’s notexactlywhat it says. That’s the interpretation, maybe even the intent, but those are not the actual words?”

Briar looked between Wrenley and me, her blue eyes narrowing in confusion. “What are you two thinking?”

Wrenly grabbed the Regula and hurriedly flipped through it, searching for the right passage. Then xe sat on the sofa, squishing between me and Briar.

"What do you think?" Xe pointed to a section labeledThe Doctrine of the Heart’s True Course. “Does any of this pertain to your situation, Izzy?”

I let out a shaky, hopeful breath. “I hope so.”

Chapter 41

The royal palace of Calida was divided into three wings: the center for ceremonial duties with the throne room and various ballrooms and dining halls, the west wing for the private quarters of the royal family, and the east wing for the civil duties with offices, courts, jail cells, and tribunals. Until Soren’s arraignment, I had only been to the ceremonial areas, and the east wing was different than I imagined.

The exterior was the same as the rest of the palace. With beautiful stone carved into ornate moldings, it had the same austere appearance as classical architecture from the Golden Age of Wespen, when the kingdoms had been founded and the Regula had been written.

Despite that, the interior of the civil wing was much more modern and imposing. The walls were covered in slick black marble, and the floor was made of iridescent tiles in a mosaic of arcane symbols. It reminded me of Herve Chaunter’s private studio, which did little to ease my nerves.

The arraignment hall itself was a large room with a dais at the north end and a gallery of seats at the other. A half-wall made of raw-edged obsidian separated the two, and a large empty space in the center was where arguments would be made.

On the dais were nine chairs, with the largest in the center – presumably the Queen's – and four chairs flanking either side. Those were the seats of the tribunal.

I was sitting in the gallery with Regula on my lap, and Briar and Wrenley were on either side of me. We weren’t the only ones here, though. A surprisingly large amount of the seats were taken by strangers, but there were plenty of faces I did recognize.

One of Briar’s fathers, Adlar Floreo, sat beside Wrenley's parents, Robyn and Eva Pavone. Jessalyn – the primamusa I’d met at the Ashoralida – was sitting beside a bearded man, and based on the sigils on his outfit, I surmised he was an emissary for the King of Sudamon. Soren had told me that King Marcel was to be a witness, but he was still a reigning monarch, so sending an emissary to witness in his place wasn’t uncommon.

I recognized a few heralds and courtiers in attendance, but the only notable others I saw were my mother, Adora, and our housekeeper, Heloise. Adora must have brought her for emotional support.

The double doors at the entrance opened as the final gallery members arrived. Queen Krislle’s four youngest daughters—Sylvetta, Flornetta, Danetta, and Anabetta—walked in a single file line. All of them were wearing simple black sheath dresses, with their long black hair laying straight under simple, jewel-encrusted tiaras.

Following up behind them were the Queen’s sons-in-law. They all took their seats in the front row, with Sylvetta between her sister’s husband, Tarian Chaunter, and her own husband, Raiment Cole.

As soon as they were seated, a herald told us to rise as the tribunal came out in order of least prestigious to most.

Edwing Harrigan, a handsome Lord in his mid-20s and one of the most popular muses working today

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