Chapter 4: Before the Hearing
I'm not sure how long I had slept. It couldn't have been too terribly long. I slowly pushed up on my elbows, running my fingers through my hair. The texture was wrong, not like Rose's silky hair, but the action brought me back to her for the slightest moment. Remembering happier times brought the faintest whispering of a smile to my face, an expression that felt unfamiliar.
As much as I had wanted to wake up and realize everything that had happened was a dream, there was no confusion. No hoping that it would disappear when my eyes were fully open. With a sigh, I heaved myself from bed and pulled my hair back in a tie. I was hoping that there would be more information about the Queen's murder that would help form a plan for saving Rose.
I heard a hesitant knock at the door and realized that a similar sound was what had awoken me moments earlier. "One minute," I managed with sleep heavily influencing my voice.
I crossed my room in two short strides to open the door. The halls were empty, and I heard the click of the door down the hall closing. Someone wanted me awake, but didn't want me to know who they were. I looked around the halls one last time before closing my door. As I stepped behind the shut door, I felt the smooth surface of a piece of paper contrasting against the rough carpet.
Opening the note, still crouched to the ground, I read the sloppy, quick handwriting.
Rose's hearing will begin in an hour's time. I thought you would want to know.
I turned the paper over to look for more, but there was nothing. I didn't recognize the handwriting, but I wasn't going to waste time trying to determine whose it may be. As quickly as I could, I pulled my shoes on and ran out the door.
The streets were crowded and loud with rumors and fears. I ignored it all, unsure of when the note was left for me. Unsure if I missed the proceeding. Hoping with all my heart that I had not. The courtroom was crowded and from what I could hear from the conversations, nothing had happened yet. I slipped into the back of the room, near enough to Lissa and Adrian and the others that I could hear any conversation they had. At the moment, they were not speaking. They were all darting looks around the room. Nervous. Afraid. Adrian was bouncing his knee and tapping his fingers. His anxiety was radiating towards me, and I evaluated my practiced Guardian exterior to ensure my face betrayed no emotion. I wasn't sure why, but something inside me told me the importance of keeping my stone-cold face in place. Maybe it would help me remain unseen in this crowded room.
Though I was composed and unmoving, I was alert and taking in everything around me. Many people were looking for anyone to blame, hoping to return peace and order to the court. Others were outraged that Rose would be accused, knowing that her boisterous attitude would never lend her to such a heinous crime. The former group, I wanted to silence, but maintained the exterior I thought Rose would want.
Love fades. Mine has. As I was listening to conversations around me and tasting the dissention in the air, those terrible words, that terrible lie came flooding back to me. At the time, I wanted Rose to believe me, and it nearly tore me apart to keep all emotion from my face and my voice, but now, doubt and fear flooded me. What if she had believed me? Hopefully she recognized my actions in the café as an example of my love. Hopefully, my actions spoke louder than my words.
I could feel my composure slipping as I contemplated the significance of those words, and quickly pushed the thought from my mind. I was resolute to stay strong while in this court room. I watched as more people trickled into the room, listening for new bits of information. The judge and the lawyers entered the room and moments later, the large double doors in the back of the court opened. A dozen Guardians entered the filtered down the aisle to where Rose's lawyer sat, with Rose in the center. She held her head high, confident, with an expression any proud guardian wore.
With her gaze straight ahead, Rose didn't see me, but her eyes oozed the fear she felt. I was sure no one else could see her fear, no one else could read her eyes the way I did. In that moment I wanted to sprint to her side and comfort her, steal her from this place and protect her, but duty, curiosity, and loyalty to protecting her kept me glued to my seat. How could I protect her from this situation if I didn't understand it? I needed more information and sitting through slanderous accusations was the best way to get it.
I knew the best way for me to help Rose was to be meticulous, to make no mistakes. I would find a way to set her free, completely free, without the fear that someone was searching for her. I had to stay here, stay calm and hear the evidence. I needed to see this case through the eyes of those who accused her so I could be sure to dispel any questions or doubts in their minds about her innocence. I had to overcome my instinct to act and control my anger and wait for the right time. And I had to repeatedly remind myself, right now is not the right time. Right now is not the right time.
As I stared at the back of Lissa, I couldn't help but envy her bond with Rose. I knew she couldn't understand or feel what it was that Rose was feeling, but she did have the ability to send her a calming feeling. I felt so helpless, here. No more useful than any other bystander, but so much more connected and impacted by the outcome.
As Rose approached the front of the courtroom, I noticed her lawyer for the first time. His stark black suit stood in contrast to his white, blonde hair and seemed to make a mockery of the seriousness of the situation. There was no mistaking who he was, Damon Tarus, Daniella's relative. While he sat next to Rose, her only form of legal defense, something about his appearance screamed that he had already decided on her guilt. I didn't trust who he was, and I didn't trust why he was here.
I notice Rose steal a glance around the room, her eyes surveying her surroundings, never resting on anyone. True guardian form. I knew, she didn't see me. I wasn't sure if I had wanted her to.
I was getting anxious as the seconds ticked by, eager for the proceedings to get started. My nerves were about to explore from me when the judge finally called the room to order. The council filed into their normal seats. It seemed that each of them was hyper aware of the empty seat of Her Majesty's, their faces telling of their emotions. Some were eager at the prospect of filling the empty seat while others were truly in morning. The council was quick about taking their seats. An eagerness to find the murder was apparent on all of their express. That eagerness made me fearful for Rose. Would she receive a fair trial?
In a powerful and commanding voice, the judge called order to the room, "This hearing is now in order, in which we will determine whether there is enough evidence to—"
A guardian was leaning out the door speaking to a latecomer in hushed tones. The responses, though muffled by the cracked door and unintelligible, were loud and demanding. "What is this disturbance about," the judge demanded as the guard sheepish turned to address the court.
"The accused's lawyer is here, Your Honor." A brief silence of shock was followed by a rush of whispers as everyone in the room tried to make sense of that declaration. Mr. Tarus was already at Rose's side, and while I distrusted him greatly, I wasn't sure how I felt about someone making such a huge scene on Rose's behalf in such a serious situation.
"She already has a lawyer." While the judge had no hint of laughter in her words, several in the crowd struggled to stifle the rising laughter in their throats. The guardian's practiced expression slipped into one of confusion as he raised his shoulders into a shrug. "Fine. Send whoever it is up here and let's get this settled. " The judge's tone in combination with curiosity of the unknown interrupter quieted the crowd as the guardian opened the door.
As the doors opened, Ibrahim Mazur strutted down the aisle towards the judge. I had heard rumors of his extravagance, and recognized him immediately, thought I have never met him. His light grey suit and bright red accents seemed outlandish for this event. His ears were traced in gold earrings and his long black beard was outdated. Many Moroi and dhampirs are afraid of him; something about his appearance commanded it. I, too, was afraid. Not of his legend, not of him, but of his motives here.
