Caelan stood in the center of the Crown Tribunal chamber, not as a man seeking justice, but as one being used to make a point. This wasn't about guilt or innocence. It was about control.
The hall was packed. Noble families, military officials, and court sycophants filled the gallery, their silks and medals gleaming under the crystalline light. It was a spectacle disguised as a trial. A theater of judgment. Every chair filled. Every eye fixed. It felt less like a court and more like an execution staged for an audience who wanted their thirst sated with disgrace.
He wore his Warden armor. Formal. Imposing. But stripped of its crests. The bruises on his face were visible, his lip still split. No one had offered to cover them. They wanted him to be seen this way. Beaten. Human. Vulnerable.
His mask, once a constant part of him, shielding more than just identity, was gone. Taken during his arrest. It had not been returned.
And so they stared.
They didn't look at the evidence. They looked at him. Many for the first time. He had been an enigma for so long. The shadow behind Seraphina. The blade that struck from silence. Now, there was no mask to project mystery or distance. Only bruised skin and cold eyes that refused to break.
He didn't flinch.
Caelan walked to the center dais, his wrists still bound though he posed no threat. The guards beside him were for effect, not safety. Every movement was choreographed to humiliate.
No advocate stood by his side. No defense counsel. No representative from his House. Not even from the Warden Order.
The throne above him was occupied by Empress Eleanor. Still. Poised. Her expression unreadable. Beside her, the three adjudicators from the Grand Bench unrolled their case scrolls in silence.
Thalion's chair was empty.
That detail burned.
Then the accusations began.
A young woman stepped forward. She wore a plain servant's dress, and her voice shook as she read the claims from a prepared page.
"He came to the tavern late. Was already drunk. I offered him water. He grabbed me. Pulled me into his room. I resisted. He didn't stop."
Behind her, three others stood in confirmation: a stable boy, a merchant, and another tavern worker. Their expressions were vacant. Too controlled. Caelan looked at them carefully. They didn't meet his gaze.
Caelan's reply was steady. "That is false. I requested my room key. Ate a meal. Went upstairs alone. Left before first light."
One of the adjudicators leaned forward. "Do you have any corroborating witness or document to support your version of events?"
Before he could respond, the chamber doors creaked open.
Every head turned.
Seraphina entered, clad in imperial black and silver. Her steps were sure. Her chin raised. Eyes locked ahead. She walked with the kind of calm that made people nervous. Like a storm had arrived and no one realized it yet.
Behind her, Crown Prince Thalion. Unarmored, but no less commanding. The weight of his presence silenced the murmurs like a blade to the throat.
They approached the tribunal platform with deliberate calm. It was not a rescue. It was a reckoning.
Seraphina stopped beside Caelan. "He does."
She handed a sealed scroll to the tribunal clerk. "Testimony from Jonan Ves. Courier. He delivered a report to Caelan that night. He witnessed the entire evening. No alcohol. No altercation. No misconduct."
The clerk passed it to the adjudicators. One broke the seal. Read in silence. Another leaned to whisper to Empress Eleanor.
Thalion stepped forward. "Two of the witnesses named in the formal charge were not employed by the tavern at the time. One relocated to the Southern provinces six weeks before the date in question."
A murmur rolled through the crowd.
The stable hand stiffened.
"Furthermore," Thalion continued, "the tavern's records show no report filed internally about the incident. No complaint. No incident log. The only report originated from the clerk's office, without signature."
From the side entrance, two royal guards entered with a court official in tow. The man bowed. "These are forged statements. Not submitted through the proper channels. I cross-referenced signatures. None match."
Seraphina looked directly at the alleged victim. "Who told you what to say?"
The girl's voice cracked. "He said he could help me. Said I'd get protection. That I was chosen."
"Who?" Seraphina pressed. She took a step closer, eyes narrowing.
But the girl shook her head. "They'll kill me."
The Empress stood.
Every voice fell.
"Enough. The court has what it needs. Duke Caelan Vorenthal is cleared of all charges."
She turned to the witnesses. Her voice sharpened.
"Those who gave false testimony will be detained. They will face truth spells. Anyone implicated in fabricating this charge will face imperial prosecution."
Guards moved in. The stable hand bolted, only to be caught at the door. The merchant wept. The girl collapsed to her knees.
Caelan stood motionless.
Seraphina approached him.
Gently, she lifted a hand and brushed her fingers across the bruise beneath his eye. Her thumb grazed the side of his jaw. She didn't speak.
His voice was soft. "Third time."
She blinked at him.
"You've saved me three times now. The water. The poison. This."
Still, she said nothing, but her eyes shimmered. Her hand moved from his face to the back of his neck, just briefly, as if to anchor him to the moment. To let him know he was real, and here, and not alone.
"They wanted to break you," she whispered. "They couldn't."
He exhaled slowly. "They came close."
Her brows furrowed. "Don't say that."
He smiled, barely. "I won't lie to you. I thought... I thought maybe no one was coming."
"You knew better."
"I hoped," he admitted. "But hoping hurts when it's quiet."
She stepped in closer, her voice lower. "It wasn't quiet on the outside. We fought. Thalion and I. We pulled every string."
"And he came."
She nodded. "He didn't hesitate."
There was a pause. Then she added, voice barely audible, "Neither did I."
Caelan swallowed. "You always find a way."
"So do you."
For a moment, neither of them moved. The court, the Empress, the world, they faded.
Thalion watched.
His face betrayed nothing. But Seraphina felt the silence between them change.
It wasn't jealousy. It wasn't anger.
It was something quieter.
Loss.
Not because she chose Caelan.
Because she hadn't needed to choose at all.
Caelan turned toward him. Nodded. Respectful. But aware.
Not just a prince now.
A rival.
The guards unlocked Caelan's restraints. The chains fell.
The sound echoed.
Seraphina stepped beside him.
"You never should've had to stand through this."
"I stood," he said. "Because you didn't let me fall."
He looked at Thalion. "And neither did you."
Thalion finally met his eyes. "Don't thank me. I didn't do it for you."
There was a beat of silence between them, sharper than any insult.
Caelan's voice dropped. "Then say what you did it for."
Thalion's jaw flexed. "For the Empire. For the truth. For her. Take your pick."
"I'll take the one that hurts," Caelan replied.
Thalion's gaze hardened. "You think I don't see it? You think I don't know what she means to you?"
"I don't hide it."
"No. You don't. That's what makes it worse."
Caelan held his stare. "Then say it. Say you hate me."
Thalion didn't blink. "I don't. I envy you. There's a difference."
That silenced both of them.
Finally, Thalion looked away. Just for a moment. Just long enough to let it settle.
Then he turned back. "But I won't be the reason she breaks. So if you love her, really love her, you'd better be ready to stay standing."
Caelan gave a slow nod. "I already am."
They left the tribunal side by side.
Not triumphant.
But whole.
And behind them, the court finally remembered:
The empire could be deceived.
But truth had allies.
And sometimes, the hunted survive.