Wren
Kellan Vayne had been waiting a year for his trial, and the wait was not cruelty. It was the Law.
His crimes crossed three territories and touched the Council itself, conspiracy with the Sundered Moon, the a*******n on the north road, the raid on the Ashwood vault, so his judgment had waited on the restored Council's new sittings, and the Council, in its first year with eleven seats, had a war's worth of Maddox's surrendered captains to judge first. He had sat in the Ashwood cells through all of it, fed, warmed, visited by no one.
The trial was held in the Ashwood great hall, the morning after Silvercrest. Isolde presided for the Council. Darius sat as the wronged territory's Alpha. And I attended, with my three, not as a victim, and not as the eleventh seat, though I could have cl
