Malcolm barely escaped Leandra's bedroom unscathed. He used his magic to jam the door, so Lady Amell's key wouldn't work. He fled out the window, barely remembering to shut the cage behind him.
He didn't bother to clothe himself. He ran back to the Circle using an invisibility spell, which was all that kept him from being picked up by the Guards for streaking. Eventually, he found a sewer line, hopped in, and wandered back into the Circle, worried he'd step on a nail and get tetanus or something worse.
Malcolm was shivering cold by the time he slipped back to his room and threw on some clothes. He knew he couldn't risk a shower, so he cleaned himself as best as he could in the men's washroom sink and tucked himself back in his cell.
He cursed his stupidity. He couldn't believe he had gotten carried away again. But being in Leandra's presence made it so easy to forget where he was and what he was doing.
At least the memory of her warmth was there to comfort him when he lay on the dungeon's matted straw bed on top of the cold stone floor.
He quickly passed out from exhaustion, slipping into the Fade to find yet another new spirit greeting him.
She looked exactly like Leandra, except her skin glowed with a vivid green light. Her dark verdant hair was decorated with pink jasmine. She was sitting in a bed of roses with the other spirits surrounding her, looking like a spring goddess.
"Hello, Somniari," she smiled as she patted Kindness perched on her shoulder.
Malcolm seethed at the spirit, who was now intrusively stealing his fiancée's face. His fists balled as he growled, "What. The. Fuck?!"
The flower forest quivered a bit, but didn't seem very affected by his outburst this time.
Compassion seemed unaffected by Malcolm's foul emotions as well. She stepped forward and placed a hand on the strange spirit's arm.
"Isn't it obvious?" she asked. "Love has been reborn thanks to you." She smiled, her blue face sparkling like crystal. "Our Circle is almost complete."
Malcolm gritted his teeth. "This is just too weird! Stop stealing Leandra's face!" He pointed accusingly at Love, causing her to jump back. "Change it, now!"
Love cowered, her flowers wilting slightly.
Honesty set down the bowl of soup she was eating down with a frown. "Calm down, Somniari. This is a good thing."
She sounded too much like Taylor.
Malcolm crossed his arms, jutting out his bottom lip in a pout. "You would say that."
Chef placed a heaping bowl of soup in Malcolm's lap with a disappointed tut.
Malcolm took one whiff and realized it was his mother's kaldereta. He could smell the aroma of goat meat, potatoes, and peppers, boiled in liver and tomato paste. His stomach growled despite himself.
"Eat," Chef insisted. "You'll need your strength. Zelophehad is plotting something."
Everyone else was already helping themselves to Chef's meal with gusto.
Malcolm grunted. He didn't like being treated like a child, but the kaldereta smelled so good…
He went ahead and shoved a spoonful in his mouth. His eyes widened in surprise with how delicious the flavor was. The earthy spiced tomatoes coated his tongue and left it tingling.
Suddenly Malcolm was transported to a dining room he didn't recognize. He was sitting at a large maple table. Leandra, the real Leandra, was beside him, cooing at a gaggle of three children. Their pealing laughter filled the small room.
Malcolm looked around in amazement. What was happening should have made him uneasy, but instead he felt so comfortable and secure. It looked like a normal family home, filled with pictures of scenes he had no memory of. There were cute knick-knacks and children's toys scattered everywhere.
Leandra wiped some tomato broth off a little boy, about six years old. He looked just like her, with the same straight black hair and dark inky eyes, but his skin was closer to Malcolm's, a warm brown. The freckles spattered across his nose and cheeks wiggled as he frowned at Leandra's fussing.
"No, Ma! I'm a chasing warrior!" His half-rounded half-pointed ears twitched in frustration, and he dipped his hand in the kaldereta and smeared a handprint on his face.
"Carver," Leandra tutted in frustration. She tried to wipe away the handprint using a napkin, but only succeeded in turning his face red.
Malcolm blinked in surprise at his son's name.
A little girl, the same age as Carver, reached for her own napkin with a tiny hand and helped her mother wipe Carver's face. Her golden eyes flashed with annoyance. She had the same face as her brother, but her black hair was in long curly waves, sectioned off in pigtails. "You mean Chasind warrior not chasing warrior," she corrected primly with her nose in the air.
Carver stuck out his tongue. "Shut up, Beth! I know what I mean!"
"Don't speak to your sister like that," Leandra scolded, scrubbing her son's cheeks harder.
The remaining child was about nine, and Malcolm could swear the boy was a mini version of himself. He had the same wild dark brown curly mane and the same exact freckles covering his face. But instead of golden eyes, he had an odd mismatch, one dark brown eye and one blue. He was singing to his food and Malcolm could swear the food was singing back.
"Why are you so yummy? Yummy in my tummy."
The kaldereta gurgled in response, like it was boiling.
Leandra sighed fondly, slightly exasperated, as if this was a common occurrence. "Garrett, stop singing to your kaldereta and eat already. Your father worked so hard on it and it's going to get cold."
Garrett responded with a smile, his front teeth missing. "It likes when I sing to it, Mama."
Leandra rolled her eyes, and ruffled the boy's curls, kissing his temple.
Malcolm could only gape in confusion, unsure of what was happening.
Chef was sitting across the table from Malcolm, spooning a big helping into their gaping maw. With a stuffed mouth they said, "Good, you're finally stable."
"What's happening?" Malcolm raised a confused eyebrow. He noticed the rest of the spirits had sat themselves down at the large table. Kindness however opted to sit inside a bowl of the steaming kaldereta, like it was a jacuzzi. Neither Leandra nor his 'kids' seemed to notice them.
"You're dreaming," Compassion explained with a hum as she stirred her soup. "Zelophehad will have a harder time finding you here."
Malcolm looked down at his bowl. So appetizing, it practically beckoned him to take another bite. As he tasted the rich broth, he found his heart strangely at peace. He gazed warily at his Fade-produced offspring. This was too weird for words.
"Did ya'll just… ask random spirits to play my kids?"
"Of course not." Honesty wrinkled her wide nose in a frown. "These are your children… sort of."
Malcolm raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "That's not possible."
"Of course it is," Honesty scoffed, looking offended. "The future is in flux and parts of them might change by the time they arrive on your timeline, but there's no reason you can't speak to them… with my help that is." She pontificated her point crossly with her spoon splattering soup on him.
Malcolm blinked in surprise, not quite believing Honesty.
But as he looked at his children, they were everything he ever wanted. Tears pricked his eyes. "They look happy…"
"They are," Love hummed, more flowers blooming in her long silky hair.
"Which brings us to the real matter," Protection said sternly. "Zelophehad has been oddly focused on the mortal world. Avarice believes he may strike at one of your allies, but we are unsure how. She is currently investigating."
Avarice was oddly absent from their little dinner party.
Malcolm balked. "I thought you said you were protecting everyone in the Fade."
"Exactly," Compassion nodded. "But our powers do not reach beyond the Fade. If he chooses to use his abomination to strike, we will not be able to act from here."
Malcolm's heart froze, eyes darting to Leandra fussing over their children.
Mananananggals were infamous for preferring pregnant women and the unborn. If he lost Leandra and his son to it, if he lost this future, he might lose what little sanity he had left.
He clenched his spoon so hard he bent it. "Can you at least tell me who the manananggal is?"
The spirits all looked at each other uncertainly.
"We could," Compassion replied hesitantly. "But it would require allowing one of us to possess you."
Malcolm's veins froze at the thought. He jumped to his feet and yelled, "Like hell, I will!"
Suddenly his family was staring at him in shock. Bethany started wailing and Carver wrapped his arms around her, staring at Malcolm with fear in his eyes. Garrett stopped mid-song in confusion.
"Malcolm!" Leandra scolded and pinched his shoulder to sit him back down. "You're setting a bad example for your children!" Then she started consoling her babies.
Garrett dove under the table and crawled up to Malcolm, tugging at his pants legs. "Is it time to run again, Papa?"
Malcolm bit his lip, feeling a strange mix of emotions staring at his child. "No, son. Papa was just being silly."
Leandra pulled Garrett out from under the table and sat him back in his seat. "Will you quit horsing around? Honestly, you're the oldest!"
Malcolm couldn't help the chuckle in his throat at Garrett's pout.
"Good, you're calm again." Chef sighed heavily and turned to the golden spirit. "This was a good idea, Honesty." Then they splashed some more kaldereta in their mouth.
"Keep your emotions in check, lest Zelophehad find us again," Protection chided.
Malcolm found a growl escaping him. "Can't you spirits find one lousy demon?"
"What do you think Avarice is doing?" Compassion sighed, setting down her spoon. "If we're corrupted, we risk being pawns of Zelophehad. We cannot expose ourselves to the mortal world and search without some form of protection."
"So your solution is to possess me?" Malcolm's throat constricted, wondering if it was a mistake to trust these spirits at all.
"Yes," Compassion replied plainly, her pupilless azure eyes as hard as rocks. "We are asking, not demanding. You're allowed to say no."
Honesty shirked in her seat, her golden afro bobbing into her pointy ears. "Except don't ask me, I'm spoken for."
Malcolm gulped down his fear, unsure if a fight was next. He readied a spell in his hand in case. "Then… no. And don't ask me ever again."
A heavy sigh passed through the spirits, but they didn't argue.
Chef had finished off his bowl and ascended on Kindness', eating around them. "Well, then I hope you can find the demon yourself."
Malcolm's stomach lurched, wondering if he had made a fatal mistake in his stubbornness. He looked at Leandra and his unborn son in fear.
But before he could change his answer, he was violently woken up with a series of cold hard slaps.
Meredith fisted his curls, pulling Malcolm's ear to her mouth.
"Did you break into the Amell estate last night?!"
Malcolm's scalp was sore, his hair pulled taut, his cheek stinging. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes, sputtering awake, still hearing the spirits clamoring for him to come back. He was still confused about whether he was in the dining room with his family or on the Circle's dungeon floor.
Meredith slapped him again. "You escaped! Didn't you?!"
Malcolm clicked his jaw back into place, still disoriented. "What are you talking about?"
"Don't play dumb!" Meredith slammed his head to the floor. "Lady Amell informed us this morning that someone broke into her estate last night and magicked a guard to sleep."
Malcolm chuckled, spitting out blood. "Your proof is some sleepy overworked guard?"
The spirits in the Fade were urging him to return, though they were all talking over each other and he couldn't understand them with Meredith sneering in his ear.
"You smell like sex and sewage. The truth is marked on you, plain as day!"
She raised her boot, ready to stomp on him, when Knight-Lieutenant Jiminez called out from the door. "Captain. Remember he's due for a medical examination before court."
Meredith lowered her foot with a disappointed sigh. She nodded at the Knight-Lieutenant.
"Fetch a healer and clean him up."
—
The sun hadn't risen yet. Jaheem's bedroom within the safehouse was dark, and the billowing linen drapes cast a multitude of shadows across the walls.
The safehouse was a rather normal looking mansion overlooking the beach, built into the cliffs near the Wounded Coast. The outside of the walls were lined with heat-seeking scanners to alert security of any suspicious movement. Underneath the earth were explosive surprises rigged for any intruders dumb enough to invade. If that didn't stop them, the enchanted laser cannons attached to the walls and roof would do the trick.
Inside, the bedroom the walls were painted in warm friendly earth colors. There were fresh plants to purify the air. But it was much smaller, and decorated much more plainly than Jaheem's main residence.
The standard staccato call of Jaheem's work phone blared at him. He blinked groggily, his ears ringing.
Brett was still nestled in his arms. Jaheem had his servants prepare Brett his own room. But Brett didn't trust anyone else in the estate, so Jaheem offered his own bedroom to put the man at ease.
Nothing sexual had happened… yet. And Jaheem told himself that it would probably stay that way, as disappointing as that was.
They were both dressed in pajamas, though Jaheem abhorred sleeping in clothes, so he only wore the pants.
Brett grumbled sleepily on top of Jaheem's bare chest, leaving a trail of drool. "Turn your phone off," he complained, and grabbed a pillow to suffocate the sound.
"It might be important," Jaheem yawned and reached for his nightstand, where his phone was plugged in.
He answered it, still half asleep. "Yes?"
"Get your ass out of bed. You're due in court at eight," Veronica's cranky voice growled. From the sound of it she had just woken up as well.
Jaheem jerked wide awake. "How? The case isn't scheduled for months!"
Veronica's voice was an angry rumble. "A clerical error, apparently. Some idiot wrote down the wrong date, and when I find out who, I will end their career!"
Brett grunted in irritation and rolled off Jaheem, burying his face in the blankets.
"This isn't enough time. I haven't even gone through all the evidence." Jaheem breathed through his panic, trying to find a solution. "Can't we explain the mistake to the judge and fix it?"
"You would think, but he's not being reasonable," Veronica replied. "If you don't argue the case today, he'll throw it out completely."
"Fuck!" Jaheem punched the bed, the plush mattress bouncing his hand back.
"I feel the same, but we don't have a choice, Omenma. You'll have to wing it this time."
Brett peeked out from under the pillow with a look of concern.
Jaheem's throat closed up in anxiety. "Wait? Aren't I suspended?"
"Not anymore," Veronica sighed tiredly. "Once I explained to the judge the clerical error, he was willing to grant an early lift on your suspension."
Jaheem felt some tension release from his shoulders, grateful for this one small mercy. But they tightened again as he realized what a long exhausting day he had before him. "The other legal secretaries aren't up to date with the case. I'm going to need Leandra's help to keep organized."
"Fine," Veronica griped. "But after this case, she's done." Then she hung up.
Jaheem fell back onto his pillow groaning. He was looking forward to another day off with Brett. He resisted the urge to kick his feet like a child.
Brett blinked, sleep still in his eyes. "So, you're back on the job, already?"
Jaheem gritted his teeth. "Seems so." He glanced at Brett, his messy sandy hair going in all directions. And yet he looked so adorable, especially with that grumpy pout on his face. "Will you be okay without me?"
"Suuuure. I plan to just lock myself in your room and sleep," Brett said mopily.
Jaheem chuckled as he sat up. "Feel free. I'll have my servants leave your meals at the door. I also have some games you can play on my computer if you get bored. I'll leave the password."
Brett snorted. "I'd rather starve than eat something that could be poisoned. Cook for me when you get back." Then he turned on his side and attempted to fall back asleep.
"Alright," Jaheem agreed readily. He could understand Brett's paranoia, and was touched that he trusted Jaheem that much. "I'll hop in the shower, then."
Jaheem couldn't help but notice the way Brett perked up at that but he told himself not to read into it.
He strolled into his vast private bathroom. It was perfectly organized with skin and hair care products and a large walk-in tub that doubled as a shower. The water warmed immediately, and Jaheem quickly hopped under the showerhead, thinking how Brett was waiting just outside.
Jaheem wasn't sure when these romantic feelings for Brett had surfaced. They had been friends since college and had always been rather close. He had always considered Brett one of his closest friends and confidantes. He hadn't even considered himself bisexual before then, and had no idea how to pursue a man. Besides, even if he knew Brett was gay, that didn't mean he felt the same. Jaheem was terrified of ruining a good friendship.
Jaheem was finally done with his shower, and lathered up his face in the foggy mirror. He shaved carefully, so not a hair was out of place and his eyebrows were neatly notched. Then when he was done, he wrapped himself in a towel and strolled back into his room.
The sun was now peeking through the blinds in the window, and Jaheem remembered he needed to call Leandra. He picked up his phone from his bed.
He didn't realize that Brett was now peeking an eye out from under the covers.
Leandra's phone rang three times before she answered. "Jaheem?" she yawned grouchily. "Why are you calling so early? I was in the middle of such a good dream…"
"Sorry, Leandra. Time to get up." Jaheem opened his large walk-in closet to look for a proper suit. "We have court at eight. Can you go to the office and gather the files on my desk?"
"Oh, of course! I'll leave right away!" Leandra seemed wide awake now and hung up the phone without saying goodbye.
Jaheem sighed and picked out a serious navy blue suit, one he considered lucky. He grabbed a plain black tie that was hanging on the rack. He walked back out into his bedroom, placed his clothes on his computer chair, and threw off his towel. He had always done this out of habit, but he just now remembered he was hosting a guest.
He froze as soon as he was naked, now aware that Brett was staring at his ass.
Brett flushed pink, burying his head in the pillows. "Sorry! I swear I'm not a perv!"
Jaheem yanked the towel back over his genitals, just as embarrassed. "No, I'm sorry. I'll dress in the bathroom."
"You don't have to. It's your room," Brett said quickly, his voice muffled. "I just won't look."
Jaheem could still see his reddened ears peeking out from the covers.
He raised a freshly groomed eyebrow, his cheeks heating as he dared to say, "Well, I'm not stopping you from looking."
Brett's head rose, his flushed face slack with shock, unsure if he heard right.
Jaheem felt a little coy as he dropped the towel again, feeling pleased as Brett blushed even redder. Jaheem found himself reluctant to get ready for work and dressed himself extra slowly.
By the time he was done, Brett was hiding under the covers again.
Jaheem chuckled lowly, very pleased with himself, and left the room without a word. He walked through the long bright hallways, sparsely but smartly decorated with art from his homeland: ornamental spears, red clay patterned pots, and painted carved masks that were almost as big as him. He headed into the kitchens which were expansive, with multiple fridges and stoves and a large island in the middle to work on. Two servants were already at work making breakfast for the house so Jaheem walked up to one of the sinks and washed his hands.
The two curvy middle-aged women greeted him with a wave. They had smooth dark umber skin that brightened their multi-colored floral dresses. They wore matching headscarves and adorned their ears, nose and neck with gold jewelry that jangled as they walked.
One of them raised a pierced eyebrow. "You're up early, inkosi. Cooking again for your umlungu?"
Jaheem's lips curled in a small smile. "His name is Brett, Zizi."
She rolled her eyes and said with a snap, "He's still umlungu to me. You can tell that boy melts in the sun like an ice cube."
"You shouldn't say that about inkosi's isingane," Sisi laughed, hiding her brilliant smile behind a jeweled hand covered with a clear plastic glove.
It was hard to tell the twins apart at a glance, but Sisi liked to wear her hair in microbraids while Zizi preferred to keep hers relaxed in an afro. Sisi also wore most of her jewelry on her braids while Zizi's ears were covered in hoop piercings.
Jaheem's cheeks heated, his ears steaming with embarrassment. "We didn't get that far, yet."
"Yet?" Zizi giggled, causing Sisi to join in.
Jaheem's shoulders were now tense under the twins' scrutiny. They both were big gossips and wouldn't hesitate to spread wild rumors about him. He tried to ignore them as he chopped onion and red bell pepper, and started sauteeing them in some oil.
"You know, inkosi, you should give up on these owezizwe women and find yourself a nice girl back home," Sisi said as she kneaded some dough.
"I think I'm giving up on all women for a while," Jaheem admitted before he thought better of it.
The twins squealed in delight, jumping up and down. Sisi pushed her sister playfully. "You owe me a sovereign, girl."
"Fine," Zizi pouted puckishly. "But really? That umlungu? He's a beanpole! I can find you some nice thick trees with solid branches if that's what you're going for!"
Sisi and Zizi's wild hyena-like laughter echoed across the mansion.
Jaheem's cheeks were on fire. He still didn't know where he stood with Brett, and already his staff were jumping to conclusions. Or rather leaping to them.
Fumbling for a distraction, he quickly added garlic, cumin, paprika, and just a bit of cayenne pepper into the stir-fry. He turned to the ladies. "We still have diced tomatoes, right?"
That put them back into work mode. "Aye, there's some leftovers," Zizi sashayed to the fridge, her jewelry jingling.
"Can you please grab some eggs, too?" Jaheem called over his shoulder.
Sisi peeked over the stove and raised an eyebrow. "Making shakshouka?"
Jaheem nodded as he stirred the vegetables. "Brett's palate isn't used to Rivaini food, but I thought he could handle this."
Sisi crept to the expansive spice drawer. "Well, you're going to need some harissa with that, or it's not complete."
"Nah, I'm leaving that out. Brett is sensitive to spice." Jaheem waved her away, taking the tupperware of diced tomatoes from Zizi's hands. He quickly dumped them on top of the veggies. The pan hissed, before the ingredients quieted to a simmer.
Sisi fumed. "Harissa is not spicy!"
Jaheem smirked. He would have thought that, too, once. "Please, believe me. Brett will think I'm poisoning him."
"Ay! That white boy really is prone to melting," Zizi scowled and muttered some curses under her breath as she cut up some potatoes into tiny cubes.
Jaheem found a laugh bubble out of him, not arguing that.
Sisi leaned over the stove with the bottle of red harissa and a tiny spoon. "Let me put in a drop for flavor. It will be too bland otherwise."
"Sisi-"
But she already placed in way more than a drop and started stirring it in. "Just a bit," she insisted with a casual wave.
She almost put another drop in before Jaheem took away the bottle and shooed the sisters from the stove. "Don't you have your own breakfasts to cook?"
The twins giggled and went back to folding dough and cutting veggies.
After all the flavors had melded nicely, Jaheem cracked the eggs into the pan and let the ingredients simmer until the eggs were poached.
He transferred the shakshouka into a bowl and placed it on a tray. He grabbed two spoons and smaller bowls. Balancing them carefully, he marched back to his room without saying goodbye to the twins.
Zizi looked to her sister and with a sly nod poured two glasses of milk.
Jaheem knocked on his bedroom door with his foot.
Brett opened it a few moments later, his ocean eyes wide in surprise. He looked like he hadn't moved since Jaheem left him. "I thought you went to work."
Jaheem pushed himself into the room and placed the food on the bed, cursing himself for not having a proper dining table. "Needed to make sure you didn't starve yourself all day."
Zizi barged in and set the glasses of milk down on the nightstand, ignoring Brett's suspicious glare. "Don't worry, umlungu. Nothing's poisoned." She snickered into her plastic glove and left the room, shutting the door firmly behind her.
Brett raised an eyebrow. "What did she call me?"
Jaheem was doling out Brett's serving but he froze at his question, unsure if he should tell the truth. It wasn't a slur exactly, but even so, he was sure Brett would get fussy about Jaheem's servant pointing out his skin color.
"Ummm, it means 'friend'," he lied and handed Brett his serving, trying to distract him. "Warning. Sisi, one of my cooks decided to help spice this dish, so it might not be to your liking."
Brett squinted suspiciously at the bowl. "So you didn't actually make this yourself?"
"She only put in a pinch of peppers. I did the rest."
Brett looked uncertain and crossed his arms in refusal.
Jaheem sighed. He'd been afraid this would happen. But he took Brett's spoon, scooped a healthy bite into his mouth, and swallowed, pleased with the rich taste. "See, not poison." Then he scooped another bite and put it to Brett's face.
Brett flushed, sniffing the spoon. "Well… It smells good at least."
"Good." Jaheem was relieved to hear that. With a glimmer of mischief in his dark cocoa eyes he said, "Now say 'aaah'."
Brett scowled and snatched the spoon away. "I can feed myself!"
Jaheem laughed heartily and handed Brett the bowl. He sat on the bed, and served himself a heaping helping. He started eating quickly, knowing he'd have to leave soon.
Brett took a tentative bite and then moaned into his spoon.
Jaheem's ears perked up to the sound. He smiled wryly. "Glad you like it."
"What is this?" Brett said with a full mouth. He was still shoveling more in with gusto, some red tomato getting on his face. If Jaheem hadn't cooked him dinner last night, he would have thought Brett hadn't eaten in days.
"Shakshouka," Jaheem smiled. "It's one of my favorites."
Then the spices kicked in. Suddenly Brett was coughing, his face now red and sweating.
Jaheem had to stifle his laughter as he reached over and handed Brett the milk.
Brett drank greedily, the milk running down his chin making Jaheem wonder if his seed would look the same.
He shook those dirty thoughts away, knowing this was not the time to indulge them.
Brett drained the glass and coughed hoarsely.
Jaheem grabbed some tissues from his nightstand and wiped Brett's face for him, the thin paper cloth catching on his stubble. "You don't have to eat it if it's too much. I'll make something else for you."
"No, I like it," Brett sputtered, his face crimson. "I just have to eat it slower." He fanned his tongue. "Might need more milk."
Jaheem chuckled and handed him the second glass.
Much too soon, breakfast was over, and Jaheem was putting on his jewelry for the day. He knew Kirkwallers were more conservative so he opted out of his golden choker and only left on his rings and facial piercings.
As Jaheem left, Brett called out, "You better come back, alive, okay?"
He hadn't known Brett to be affectionate. Jaheem found a giddy grin on his face. "Promise," he winked.
"Holding you to that." Brett rolled his eyes with a slight blush.
Jaheem arrived at the courthouse and pulled into his designated parking spot, surprised to see Leandra waiting for him on a bench near the steps. She was dressed in a pinkish-gray skirt-suit with black tights and matching heels that had little ruffles on them. Her briefcase was tucked on her lap and on top of that was a tray of coffees.
Jaheem shuddered at the thought of forcing himself to swallow the sickeningly sweet and bitter swill.
He was cringing on the inside, but forced a bright smile as he walked over to Leandra, relieved that she didn't have the strong pull on him she'd had before.
"Morning!" Leandra hopped up, balancing the briefcase and tray. "Oh, this is exciting!" She giggled inappropriately.
"One could call it that," Jaheem replied with a tense nod.
He saw something shiny between her breasts. He didn't mean to ogle, but he couldn't help but notice she was wearing a chain with a golden ring and a rather large pink diamond attached.
"Your coffee, good Ser, fresh off the pot!" Leandra handed him a paper travel mug.
"Thank you," he murmured, staring cross-eyed at it.
She waited expectantly for him to drink it, but he let it hang awkwardly in his hand and walked forward instead.
He led her up the steps through the large oak doors.
"Now I know you're excited to see Malcolm, but remember to be professional."
Leandra huffed indignantly. "I'm always professional."
He suppressed an eyeroll and chose not to argue, knowing it wouldn't do much good. He took her to a private chamber, where he was supposed to meet with his clients.
But when they opened the door to the plain waiting room, only Malcolm was there, accompanied by a lone blonde Templar.
Meredith Stannard.
They entered the room, Meredith scowling at Leandra in disgust for reasons Jaheem couldn't discern.
"Knight-Captain." He bowed his head. "May I ask where my other clients are?"
Meredith smirked wickedly. "They all decided to drop out."
"Or were never told," Malcolm muttered.
Meredith glared and flicked a finger at the back of his head in warning.
Jaheem's stomach sank. He highly doubted Taylor and Charlie would abandon Malcolm. And Senior Enchanter Jakoby and Orsino seemed to be eager to make changes within the Circle.
Jaheem gritted his teeth. The odd schedule mixup and now this? It was like they wanted him to be as unprepared as possible.
He directed a bitter smile at Meredith. "Knight-Captain, may I have a word with my client, alone?"
Meredith turned her nose up and sneered. "I have orders from my Knight-Commander not to take my eyes off of Hawke."
"I must insist." Jaheem narrowed his eyes in a stern glare. "Or should I get the judge involved?"
Meredith barked out a laugh. "Well, if you insist, I must, mustn't I?"
She crossed her arms, staying put. And for a moment, Jaheem thought he would have to follow through with his threat, but then she snickered and turned on her heel, heading out the door with her heavy armor clanging. Instead of leaving, she sat on a bench outside, still in sight.
Jaheem was a little confused by their interaction. It was as if Meredith knew something he didn't, but he figured she didn't think he was worth the hassle. He sighed and set his things down on the dark ebony table.
Leandra ignored Meredith's stare and plopped herself next to Malcolm. She set one of her coffees in front of him. "Try it!"
"Thanks!" Malcolm grinned in gratitude. "Man, I haven't had coffee in forever." His anti-magic cuffs jangled as he reached for the cup and took a swig.
He immediately spat it out, all over the table and on Jaheem's briefcase.
He gagged and sputtered. "Whoever you bought that from, get a refund."
Leandra's face fell. "But… I made it myself."
Malcolm's face cracked in mortification. "Ooooooooooh, nnnnooooo. I didn't say that, did I?" It was like his brain short-circuited at the fuckup.
Jaheem knew he had to be serious, but a chuckle burst out of his throat which he hid behind his jeweled hand.
Leandra huffed, disgruntled, and attempted to snatch up Malcolm's coffee. "Well, if it's trash let me throw it away!"
"No, it's mine!" Malcolm said, like a child hiding a toy he shouldn't have. He ducked out of her grasp and started chugging the coffee as fast as he could, some of it dribbling down his chin and onto his black suit.
Now Leandra was wrestling with Malcolm. "Don't drink it if you hate it!"
Malcolm wiggled out of her grasp. "I need the energy! They didn't let me have breakfast!"
Jaheem sighed raggedly, pulling some paper towels out of a nearby dispenser and wiping away the spit up on his briefcase and the table. He was beginning to wonder if asking Leandra to stay on board was a mistake.
He cleared his throat grumpily at the couple, his voice low and threatening. "Leandra. Malcolm. Be serious. There's a real chance this case gets thrown out today and Malcolm will bear the brunt of those ramifications."
Malcolm ignored Jaheem and continued to chug the rancid coffee. But Leandra blushed and tucked some hair behind her ear, sitting down sheepishly.
"What kind of ramifications?" she bit her flushed cheek.
Jaheem sighed. "That's honestly up to the judge, but I want to emphasize the odds are stacked against us now, especially without the other petitioners to strengthen our case."
"We were never going to win this case." Malcolm burped and tossed his empty coffee cup in the trash. He seemed oddly unbothered by this fact.
Jaheem didn't want to agree with Malcolm, but everything told him that was correct. This was a set-up.
"We're not giving up, but I need you two to listen carefully." Jaheem steepled his fingers together in thought. "The prosecution will most likely bring up irrelevant facts to derail the case. They might even try to sabotage your character, Malcolm." He looked them both in the eye. "I need to emphasize that you should remain calm and allow me to do the talking."
As soon as he said that, a bell rang letting them know the trial was about to start.
Jaheem stood up and nodded to Malcolm and Leandra. "Let's keep our heads."
"Right," Leandra nodded, gathering her briefcase and the remaining coffee.
Malcolm's handcuffs jangled as he walked. "Fine, let's get this mess over with."
Then they left the room, Jaheem's coffee conveniently forgotten.
Meredith joined them and marched them to a large room with white walls and bright walnut embellishments. The room was lined with similarly colored walnut pews. A small audience was gathered, most of them press.
Jaheem spotted Leandra's father sitting next to a woman dressed in black with a matching veiled hat like she was at a funeral. She must have noticed Jaheem staring because she turned and twisted her black lips in a smirk.
Jaheem froze, recognizing Alvah Black's face from Brett's collage.
Meredith marched Malcolm to his seat at the defendant's chair and then took her post across the room, still watching him.
Jaheem took his seat beside Malcolm, while Leandra got settled on the bench behind them. She set aside her untouched coffee and promptly began organizing the files in her briefcase. She and Malcolm were both oblivious to their unexpected guest.
A bead of nervous sweat ran down Jaheem's temple, feeling the target on his back. He wondered where the opposing team was, when a familiar figure walked through the doors.
Bethann Amell came sauntering in, head held high, with a dark blood-red skirt-suit and matching lipstick. Her peppered black hair was pulled tight in a strict, yet elaborate, bun.
Beside her was an unfamiliar woman. She was fresh-faced with copper skin, dark auburn hair cropped in a pixie, and determined ash-brown eyes. She was dressed in a serious black suit and flats.
The new lawyer sat in the prosecutor's seat while Lady Amell sat right next to her, not bothering to hide her disdainful sneer.
Jaheem gulped. He knew that Leandra's mother had a reputation for being a fierce lawyer. This wouldn't be an easy battle.
Leandra gaped. "Mother, what are you doing here?"
Lady Amell sighed raggedly. "Why do you think?" She narrowed her eyes at Malcolm in a glare that could have melted his skin off. "Someone has to clean up your mess."
Malcolm flinched and looked away, his chin in his hand.
Leandra flushed red, inhaling deeply in a precursor to a tantrum.
But Jaheem put a hand on Leandra's knee. In a low voice, he reminded her, "Keep your head. She's trying to unnerve you."
And it was working.
Leandra huffed, took out her notebook, and started writing something down with her little pom pom pen.
Jaheem heard someone growling and noticed Malcolm glowering at him. Or more specifically, at his hand on Leandra's knee.
Jaheem rolled his eyes and removed his hand, not wanting to start an unnecessary argument with the territorial elf.
Soon the bailiff stood up and announced to the room, "Please rise for the honorable Judge Coklan."
Malcolm snorted at the judge's name, causing Leandra to kick his chair. He jumped to his feet, still snickering.
Jaheem's shoulders tightened with new tension as he rose to his feet. At this rate, the judge would throw the book at Malcolm.
A balding pudgy man with watery brown eyes hidden by wire spectacles came out from the backroom in a serious black robe. His maple hair was shorn to his scalp, just as crisp as his mustache.
The judge scanned the crowd and froze when he spotted Lady Alvah sitting expectantly. She waved coyly.
Judge Coklan immediately paled, dropping his eyes as he took his seat at the bench. "You may seat yourselves."
Feet shuffled as everyone scooted into their seats. Jaheem, however, remained standing.
"Your Honor, I must protest Lady Bethann Amell taking part in these proceedings. My main client is her House Mage. How is this not a conflict of interest?"
The new lawyer stood up from her seat. "Your Honor, I am Madelina de Rutia. I asked Lady Amell to be an advisor to this case as she has some unique insights, but rest assured, I will be handling the litigation."
The judge's eyes wandered to Lady Alvah, who nodded ever so slightly. He cleared his throat and said, "I don't see this as a problem. Lady Amell is famous for how professional she is. I'm sure it will be fine."
"But this is highly irregular, your Honor," Jaheem argued.
Lady Amell cocked her head. "You felt comfortable enough employing my daughter, even though she's involved with your client."
Jaheem gritted his teeth. He should have known that would come up. "It was an emergency. With the scheduling mishap, there's no one else up to date with the case," he explained. He turned back towards the judge. "If you'd be willing to reschedule, I will have a new legal secretary up to speed."
Lady Amell smirked haughtily. "It's no one's fault but your own that you're so woefully unprepared."
"Enough!" Judge Coklan banged his gavel, interrupting the argument. "We will not be rescheduling and no one's getting replaced." He glared at them both. "Remain professional and keep your personal feelings out of the case, or I will hold you both in contempt."
"Yes, your Honor," Jaheem said, balling his fists. He bowed his head in defeat and sat down.
"Yes, your Honor," Lady Amell echoed with a smug smile. She slunk comfortably into her seat.
The judge looked at the empty pews that were supposed to be filled with the rest of the civil rights petitioners. He raised an eyebrow in question. "Is Serah Hawke your only client today?"
"Unfortunately," Jaheem sighed, back tightening. "The Knight-Captain claims the rest of the petitioners dropped out, but I would like to verify this myself before you accept this as fact."
Judge Coklan squinted at Meredith. "Is this true, Knight-Captain?"
Meredith stood up and bowed her head, her fine blonde hair falling over her cold blue eyes. "I believe Lady de Rutia already has the paperwork with their signatures of dismissal."
Before Meredith was even finished with her sentence, Madelina stepped up to the bench and submitted a stack of papers.
"You'll find everything's in order."
Jaheem jumped from his seat. "Objection! I demand this to be verified by a neutral party."
Madelina scoffed. "Are you accusing the Knight-Captain of forging paperwork?"
Jaheem straightened up, feeling like the tension in his spine would snap him in two. He could feel this case slipping through his fingers. "I'm saying we should be thorough, yes? I would expect the same from you."
Unfortunately, the judge was not interested in dragging this out any longer. He flipped through the stack of papers, glancing through the documents. "This looks perfectly fine." Then he neatened the stack and set it to the side of his desk, squinting at Jaheem. "It looks like you don't have much of a case anymore, Serah Omenma. I think I'll dismiss it." He raised his gavel to bang it.
Jaheem clenched his fists, refusing to go down that easy. "Then I'm refiling immediately. Malcolm Hawke will be filing assault charges against the Circle."
The judge glared, still in mid-swing. He was clearly irritated and ready to leave. "Circle mages don't have the right to do that. He needs an advocate."
Jaheem pointed to Leandra. "I'm sure Lady Amell would be happy to be his advocate."
Leandra raised her hand. "Absolutely!" Then she exchanged a glare with her fuming mother.
The judge glowered, clenching his gavel.
Bethann leaned over and whispered something to her junior.
Madelina stood up. "If my opponent goes through with this course of action, I must insist on calling some witnesses so everyone understands the character of Malcolm Hawke."
Judge Coklan sighed heavily and waved his hand. "If we must."
"If the prosecution has witnesses to call, then so do we," Jaheem chimed in.
The judge's jowls shuddered in a grimace, his gaze veering to the cameras recording him. "Fine! Submit their contact information to the bailiff and we'll summon them."
Jaheem turned to Leandra. "I need information on where Maurevar Carver is being held. Also, call Mara to come over ASAP."
Malcolm was thankfully silent, seeming distracted by a conversation he was having with himself.
Jaheem ignored him and wrote down Taylor, Charlie, Jakoby, and Orsino's names, though he knew they would all get thrown right out since they were from the Circle. Jaheem wracked his brain for more names, but he couldn't think of anyone else.
Leandra handed over Mara's and Carver's information to Jaheem and he took them to the bailiff alongside Madelina.
Judge Coklan sighed heavily, ruffling his mustache. "Let's take a brief recess while my secretary contacts the witnesses."
Madelina pointed to the audience. "Your Honor, one of my witnesses, Lady de Launcet, is already here and is ready to testify."
"What!?"
Malcolm's golden eyes were wide with panic and he followed Madelina's finger to see Lady de Launcet waving to him with a vicious smile.
She was wearing a tight purple dress that emphasized her curves and a large white feathered hat that drooped in her heavily made-up face.
Jaheem tapped Malcolm on the arm and pressed his fingers to his lips as a subtle reminder to be silent. He was puzzled, unsure how Lady de Launcet was even connected to the case.
Jaheem had never seen Malcolm cower to anyone, but he seemed to flinch with every click of Lady de Launcet's heels. She was glaring at him hotly, a sneer on her lips. Malcolm pretended not to notice her as he loosened his tie, but his drooping ears were a dead giveaway.
Jaheem wasn't in much better shape. He felt like he would pull a muscle with how tightly his nerves were stretched.
Lady de Launcet nestled herself on the witness stand. The bailiff came in with the Chant of Light for her to swear on.
As she took her oath, Jaheem whispered to Malcolm. "Who is she to you?"
Malcolm seemed embarrassed and glanced at Leandra. "She was my patron for like two seconds."
Leandra was scowling at Lady de Launcet in a way Jaheem had never seen. He thought she would crack a tooth with how much she was gritting them.
He wanted to ask more but the judge started speaking.
"Will you state your name for the court?"
"Amelia, matriarch of the de Launcets, a family much older than the Amells." She smirked sharply and threw a glance at Bethann.
Lady Amell couldn't hide her scowl, but protocol kept her barbed tongue in place.
The judge didn't notice this interaction. He nodded to Madelina. "You may begin."
Madelina stood up and unwrinkled her slacks. She walked up to Lady de Launcet, who was preening in the spotlight like a circus parrot.
In a loud voice, Madelina asked, "So what is your relationship to Malcolm Hawke?"
Lady de Launcet snorted in disgust. "At one point, I foolishly bid on his services to be my House Mage. And how does he thank me? By brutally attempting to rape me!"
"What?!" Malcolm shouted for the second time.
Jaheem squeezed Malcolm's arm, trying to remind him once again to keep his head, and found him trembling like a leaf.
Lady de Launcet grinned victoriously as the courtroom burst into confused chatter. Both Lord and Lady Amell were glaring daggers at Malcolm with the rest of the audience.
In a projecting theatre voice, Lady de Launcet added, "He came onto me quite strongly- out of nowhere, I might add. My driver managed to scare him off, but he used his foul magic to escape before we could arrest him. Thankfully the Templars caught up to him and threw him in the dungeons!" She squinted her glinting green eyes at Malcolm, heavy with gaudy makeup. "I have no idea why they let the scoundrel out! If it were up to me, he'd be branded already!"
Malcolm jumped to his feet, shouting, "You're a lying old tramp! You're the one who put your nasty mouth on me!"
Lady de Launcet gasped. "Nasty! How dare you, you insolent knife-ear!"
The judge banged his gavel to get control of the courtroom. "Calm down!"
Jaheem pinched the bridge of his nose, a stress migraine starting to pound. "Malcolm! Sit down and shut up!"
But Malcolm turned to Leandra, clearly panicked. "You have to believe me! The Maker's truth! I would never do something like that! And I definitely wouldn't cheat on you with that primordial bat!"
Lady de Launcet snarled and threw one of her hairpins at Malcolm and it bounced off his back and clattered on his desk. He was so riled he didn't even notice.
Leandra flushed, clearly angry, though not quite at Malcolm.
"I believe you, but sit down!"
The judge continued to pound his gavel into the wood. "Control your client or I'll have him thrown back into the dungeons."
Malcolm looked like he wanted to argue, but Jaheem wouldn't let him. He pressed his hand on Malcolm's shoulder and shoved him into his seat. He yanked the elf's ear to his mouth and whispered harshly, "Shut the fuck up, before you fuck up my case!"
Then Jaheem let go of Malcolm's ear with a flick.
Malcolm scowled sourly and rubbed the soreness away.
Judge Coklan was red-faced, completely unamused with Malcolm's antics. "Is that mage going to behave or do I need a Templar to discipline him?"
"That won't be necessary." Jaheem forced a smile. "He will behave, on my honor."
Malcolm snorted in defiance and Leandra kicked his chair again.
The judge sighed and turned to Madelina. "Do you have any more questions for the witness?"
Madelina smirked at Jaheem like she had already won. "I don't think there's any more questions to ask." Then she strutted back to her seat.
Jaheem stood up and straightened his tie. He took in a steadying breath and strolled up to the witness stand, trying to decide how to pull Lady de Launcet's story apart. He cocked his head, placing a finger on his chin. "So you claim my client allegedly assaulted you. Where did this assault take place?"
Lady de Launcet squared her shoulders indignantly. "Well, it happened in the back of my limo."
Jaheem slowly paced the room as he put together the picture she was painting- before he poked holes in everything.
"So did Malcolm leave anything behind? Bruises? Fluids? A love bite or two?"
Lady de Launcet's eyes flitted nervously. "Of course, he did. My driver can attest to that."
Malcolm scoffed derisively, gritting his teeth to bite down his remarks.
Jaheem shook his head. That answer was too vague for him to trust. "Where did he leave bruises?"
Lady de Launcet gestured to her bare upper arm. "He grabbed me and left handprints behind." She then pointed to the side of her neck. "The monster also bit me here."
Jaheem made a mental note of that but Leandra was already writing that down, or he hoped she was. She had her phone out and seemed to be copying something from it.
"And I take it that you documented this evidence with the Guard." He turned to the judge. "I'd like to request a subpoena of those records."
Madelina stood up. "Objection. That contains very private medical information that has nothing to do with the case!"
"It is relevant to these charges you're bringing against my client." Jaheem crossed his arms. "Besides this is standard procedure."
The judge looked uncertain about what to say. His eyes drifted to Lady Alvah who was glaring crossly. She shook her head slightly.
With a stutter, the judge said, "W-while it is standard procedure, this is such a delicate matter, and very painful for Lady de Launcet. I would prefer not to have her relive the horror."
Lady de Launcet dabbed at her eyes and sniffed pitifully to further the effect.
What utter nugshit. If Jaheem didn't already suspect that the judge had been bribed, this confirmed it.
Lady de Launcet's relief told him he was on the right path. But with the judge blocking his every way forward, he was running out of legal footholds.
Leandra cleared her throat unsubtly and Jaheem turned to see her sliding a piece of paper onto his desk.
Jaheem grabbed the paper and quickly read it. It was a list of names, all elvhen, and understanding washed over him.
He turned back to Lady de Launcet, page in hand. "My lady, can you tell me about Garalan Welkera?"
Lady de Launcet flushed bright red. "Why he was my gardener, but has since been let go."
"And did you have a 'special' relationship with him, like you did with Malcolm?"
The noblewoman balked, sputtering, "I- I don't know what you mean."
"Objection!" Madelina cried out. "Serah Omenma is asking leading questions and badgering my witness with irrelevant information."
"But it's about to become relevant," Jaheem told the judge with a nod. "I would like to submit Garalan Welkera's name to testify. I'd like to also add Yevel Gylnlen's and Jagan Pevlyn's to the list. I believe they would all offer a different perspective."
Lady de Launcet went as pale as a sheet. "That will not be possible. They have all left the country for employment."
"Very convenient," Jaheem clicked his tongue in annoyance. "And may I ask why they chose to leave your service?"
"How would I know?" Lady de Launcet huffed. "Perhaps they found another employer that would put up with their nonsense!"
Jaheem squinted his eyes. "Then I hope you don't mind if my legal team makes some inquiries."
Lady de Launcet widened her eyes in panic.
Madelina jumped up again and said, "Objection! Lady de Launcet is not on trial!"
"Perhaps not, but neither is my client." Jaheem glared and waved his hand in a sweeping gesture. "Without evidence, such as Lady de Launcet's guard report, this is all hearsay."
The judge clenched the gavel, seeming unsure if he should use it.
Before he could recover, Jaheem said, "In fact, I need to hear from someone else because I highly doubt you've spoken a word of truth today. Is the driver who 'saved' you available for questioning? Or has he left the country, too?"
Lady de Launcet smiled, all teeth. "In fact, he has. He's on vacation."
"Can't be helped," the judge sighed, seeming relieved.
Malcolm's handcuffs jingled as he pointed across the room. "Isn't that the fucker right there?"
Everyone turned to see a rosy brown elf with a gray hat and uniform trying to sneak out of the courtroom. His large green eyes bulged when he realized he was caught.
Normally Jaheem would want to smack Malcolm for speaking out, but in this case, he was grateful. He turned to the judge looking smug. "I think Lady de Launcet needs to be cited for perjury."
Lady de Launcet chuckled breathily, her face as red as her hair. "I must have gotten my drivers confused."
Lady Amell shot a withering glare at Lady de Launcet, while Lord Amell facepalmed. Lady Alvah was rubbing her sore temples with her sharp black nails.
Madelina raised her hand. "Your Honor, may I request a short recess."
The judge looked grateful to be asked. "We'll reconvene in fifteen minutes." Then he banged his gavel to dismiss everyone.
Jaheem growled and dragged Malcolm by the arm, practically carrying the gangly elf into the nearest waiting room with Leandra following close walked into a small cramped office with some snacks and refreshments on the table. A long row of cabinets bordered a sink.
Leandra shut the door behind her so no one else would come in.
Jaheem shoved Malcolm into a chair. "What did I say about keeping your head, Hawke?!"
Leandra gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. "Jaheem, he didn't mean to-"
"Doesn't matter," he interrupted with an uncharacteristic snarl. "He could have tanked the whole case!"
"You can't blame me! That was a fucking minefield!" Malcolm growled back as he shrank in his seat, ears twitching in irritation.
Jaheem threw his hands up in the air. "Of course, it was! Court is a battle and you are handing ammunition to our enemies!" He jabbed Malcolm in the chest with a pointed finger. "I mean it! Keep your mouth shut from here on out! We are fighting by the skin of our teeth and your childish antics aren't helping!"
Leandra pulled Jaheem back, her eyebrows knitting together in concern. "Malcolm understands and he will be on his best behavior from now on. Right, Malcolm?" She finished with a glare.
Malcolm sulked, his ears dragging. "Yeah, fine, but I'm telling you this whole thing is rigged."
Jaheem pinched the bridge of his nose again, his stress migraine pounding harder. "I've been aware for a while."
He glanced at Leandra and found her kneeling over Malcolm, fussing with the wrinkles of his suit and blotting at the coffee stains.
Jaheem couldn't help but notice Malcolm's superior smug smirk as he glanced at him. He placed a casual hand on Leandra's ass and pulled her a little closer, which she didn't seem to notice.
Jaheem knew Malcolm was taunting him, but he chose to ignore the elf's petty possessiveness.
"How did you find out about Lady de Launcet's other victims?" he asked Leandra.
She suddenly stopped fawning and looked sheepish. "Honestly, by accident. Dulci is a good friend of mine. She's still close with my ex-fiancé, Guillaume, who is Lady de Launcet's son. Yesterday we were at the spa, and my friend Heather brought up Garalan since Dulci and he used to be friends. She said something strange about Dulci and Lady de Launcet sharing toys." Leandra shook her head. "I think Heather was trying to embarrass her." She then flushed a shade redder. "Anyway, when I got home I decided to do some research and found a gossip column with the other names. I kept them in case I needed to… blackmail Lady de Launcet."
Malcolm's eyebrows rose to the top of his head as a goofy grin spread across his face. He squeezed her ass fondly. "I knew I loved you for a reason."
Leandra giggled, a pleased rosy blush on her cheeks.
Jaheem raised an impressed eyebrow, realizing he never knew Leandra at all.
But he couldn't dwell on that when their time was running out. "Well, we have the driver. If I can get him to admit to Lady de Launcet's impropriety, then I can throw her out as a witness."
"How are you going to do that? Man's surely bought out," Malcolm snorted.
Jaheem straightened his jacket. "I am quite familiar with prying information from unwilling parties." He squinted at the ring around Leandra's neck. "Oh, and congratulations on your engagement."
Jaheem actually wasn't sure if that was an engagement ring, but their shocked faces answered for him. Leandra buttoned up her blouse so the ring was harder to see while Malcolm scratched at his wiggling ear with his handcuffed hand, chuckling nervously.
Jaheem narrowed his eyes, the warm dark cocoa turning to bitter black coffee. "So if you want to make it to the honeymoon, Hawke, shut the fuck up and let me do the talking."
Malcolm's ears sagged and he gritted his teeth. "I won't fuck up again."
The warning bell was ringing for everyone to return.
Leandra helped Malcolm up, cooing in sympathy, and guided him back into the courtroom.
Jaheem followed with a heavy sigh. He collapsed at his desk next to Malcolm, feeling like he had already run a marathon, but he knew well that he still had a very long day ahead of him. If he was lucky, he'd drag out this case and make it a long week.
But it was hard to forget Lady Alvah's penetrating stare at his back. His heart pounded so hard he thought it would leap out of his chest. He knew he was on the edge of a knife and he wasn't sure it wouldn't cut him in half.
Jaheem tried to roll some tension out of his shoulders, but Malcolm wasn't helping. He was sulking into his arms, pouting like a child. But as long as he wasn't talking Jaheem would take that as a win.
The judge returned and the driver was now being sworn in by the bailiff. He looked no older than eighteen, with a boyish cropped hairstyle with ridged waves and a frame so small his grey uniform hung off him.
When the bailiff walked away the judge asked, "What's your name?"
"Finwe," the boy said in a small voice. He fiddled with his hat nervously.
Judge Coklan raised an eyebrow. "Just Finwe?"
Finwe flinched as if he was hit. "I'm an orphan, Messere. I don't have a last name."
The judge's face creased with a frown but he nodded to Madelina. "Proceed."
Madelina approached Finwe with a sympathetic look on her face. "So you were in the limo during the assault?"
Finwe's eyes were on the podium. "Yes, ma'am."
"And tell us what happened."
Finwe winced before pointing to Malcolm. "That mage threw himself on my lady. He was trying to rip her clothes off. I had to pull over and slug him good."
Jaheem's eyes flew to Malcolm anticipating another explosion but it appeared, to his horror, that Malcolm was falling asleep.
Jaheem growled lowly and pinched Malcolm's side to jerk him back awake. He yawned loudly, drawing a glare from the judge. His eyes fluttered and closed again as he used his arms to cradle his head like a pillow.
Jaheem kept pinching Malcolm as Madelina questioned Finwe, but he no longer seemed to be reacting to the pain. He was about to yank Malcolm's pointed ear when the judge said, "It's your witness, Serah Omenma."
He quickly stood up, bristling in irritation. He forced himself to ignore Malcolm's childish tantrum and focus on the real problem.
Jaheem walked up to Finwe and noticed that his large green eyes had gone glassy. He was looking far away, as if he were in a dream.
Jaheem thought it strange, but shrugged it off. He could imagine working for Lady de Launcet would make one spacy and exhausted.
He knew he had to make every question count, so he started with the most important one. "Do you know who Garalan, Yevel, and Jagan are?"
"Yes. They were my lady's elf toys. Like I am," Finwe said it as if he were discussing the weather.
The whole courtroom buzzed with chatter and gossip.
Lady de Launcet leaped to her feet. "What are you saying, you mouthy brat?" She noticed the cameras turning on her, so she waved her fan in front of her face.
"Order! Order! Everyone, be quiet, or you'll be vacated!" the judge cried, but the humming was getting louder.
Jaheem wasn't sure he heard right. He knew he was persuasive, but he thought for sure it would be a struggle to pry the truth out of this witness. Still, he didn't hesitate to take advantage of this opportunity.
In a loud voice, he said, "You are her elf toy? Am I to understand you serviced Lady de Launcet sexually?"
"Every day, sometimes multiple times a day," Finwe nodded, with a strange smile that looked uncanny.
"Objection, how is this relevant?" Madelina gasped, her skin flushed a few shades darker.
Jaheem guffawed in disbelief. The woman was now reaching. "I believe the relevancy is clear to everyone, including you."
Even the judge seemed unsure what to say.
Lady de Launcet was completely crimson, with an expression that told Jaheem she was ready to run.
Lady Amell had her head in her hands, muttering curses to herself.
Lord Amell shrank in his seat as Lady Alvah seethed venomously.
Malcolm however started to snore loudly.
Jaheem clenched his fists, resisting the urge to walk across the room and punch the elf awake.
Leandra kicked Malcolm's chair repeatedly, but it was like he was dead.
Jaheem chose to ignore Malcolm and focus on Finwe, who was blinking strangely like he was fighting to wake up.
Before anyone could interrupt Jaheem, he asked Finwe, "So what really happened on that car ride?"
With no emotion, Finwe said, "Lady de Launcet tried to give Malcolm her favor and she kissed him. He didn't like that, so he pushed her off and fled the car."
Lady de Launcet gathered up her skirts and screeched, "You ungrateful knife-ear! You're fired!" And she stormed out of the courtroom and slammed the door.
Finwe gasped, as if he had come out from underwater. He blinked, reorienting himself looking dazed. "W-what did I-?" He hopped in his seat, his mouth going slack in shock at what he had done. "My lady!"
Then he dashed after Lady de Launcet without being dismissed.
The whole courtroom was in an uproar. The judge desperately banged his gavel to try to get people to calm down.
Leandra yanked Malcolm's ear, forcing him awake mid-snore. She harshly whispered, "Will you take something seriously for once?! Your life is on the line!" Then she went on an angry tirade as the crowd clamored at the news behind her.
Jaheem was flabbergasted, still unsure of what happened. If he didn't know better he would have thought Finwe had drunk some amanzi eqiniso, water of truth. He glanced at Malcolm, knowing he couldn't have cast any magic with those handcuffs attached, but the timing of his nap was… suspicious.
Could Malcolm possibly be a phuhamba? A dream walker?
But Jaheem knew this was not the time to explore that.
He turned to the judge with a pleased grin on his face. "I believe we definitely can cite Lady de Launcet for perjuring herself."
Judge Coklan cleared his throat, unsure how to corral the mess that was in his courtroom. "Let's take a brief recess while we call the next witness." Then he quickly retreated to his chambers.
Jaheem went back to his seat and leaned back, feeling exhausted. Malcolm was right. This case was a minefield.
Leandra was still lecturing Malcolm as she fixed the curls he messed up with his impromptu nap. "Seriously, Malcolm? Is this the example you want to set for your child?"
Malcolm threw his head back in a sigh, thoroughly chided. "I know, I know."
Leandra opened her mouth to continue scolding him, when her mother walked up baring her teeth.
She ignored Leandra for now and turned to Jaheem. "You should consider giving up, now, or you'll regret it. Trust me."
Jaheem raised a well-groomed eyebrow and smirked. He knew she had to be reeling after Finwe's confession. "Is that a threat, Lady Amell?"
"A promise," she smiled as sharply as a shark.
"Shut up," Malcolm muttered under his breath.
Jaheem and Leandra shot a glare at Malcolm, who was dazed and unfocused.
Lady Amell crossed her arms and tapped her sharp heel on the linoleum. "What did you say, elf? Speak up!"
Malcolm flinched and rubbed the inside of his twitching ear as if he was hearing an annoying noise. "I wasn't talking to you."
Lady Amell fumed and glared at Leandra. "I hope you're happy with the choices you've made, darling." And she stormed back to her seat.
Leandra shrank into the bench, grumbling to herself. She kicked her heel in a sulk.
But even now, Malcolm didn't seem to notice the woman had left. He was far away, his lips moving silently to respond to a conversation Jaheem nor Leandra were taking part in. Malcolm's teeth were gritted, his skin shiny with a sheen of sweat. His pointy ears rotated to sounds Jaheem couldn't pinpoint in the chaos of the courtroom.
Leandra placed a hand on Malcolm's shoulder. "Are you drunk?"
Malcolm winced, as if she slapped him, but he didn't respond to her right away. His eyes darted to something that wasn't visible. "C-can you extend the break?"
Jaheem raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
Malcolm looked distracted. "I don't know how to explain this, but I need an emergency nap," he said sheepishly, ears drooping.
"Malcolm…" Leandra growled.
Jaheem had to resist strangling Malcolm. "You already took your nap!"
Malcolm groaned in frustration, running his hand through his curls. Jaheem noticed Malcolm's leg bouncing rapidly with unexplained panic.
The bailiff announced in a stern voice that the judge was arriving and the room quieted to hummed whispers.
The judge soon came in with a foul look on his face. Jaheem straightened in his chair as the judge turned his attention to him.
"I'm sorry to inform you when we called the Barracks, we were told that Maurervar Carver was transferred to Aenor and won't be available to testify."
"What?!" Malcolm shouted yet again.
Leandra made a horrified gasp as tears pricked her eyes. "Mara…"
Jaheem slapped his large hand over Malcolm's mouth, making a hard stinging smack. With gritted teeth, he said, "Can't be helped."
This wasn't good. Carver was their most credible witness.
Malcolm's grunt was muffled by Jaheem's hand. His pointed ears wiggled in irritation and he licked Jaheem's palm childishly, causing the man to jerk his hand away.
The judge squinted his watery eyes crossly at Jaheem. "I will hold your client in contempt of court if he keeps misbehaving."
Jaheem wiped his slimy hand dry on Malcolm's black suit. "He understands, your Honor."
Malcolm growled throatily at Jaheem, but thankfully didn't speak.
"Good." The judge adjusted his glasses. "Now the Knight-Captain has agreed to be our next witness."
Jaheem couldn't help but notice how Malcolm flinched at the mention of Meredith.
Soon the Knight-Captain marched to the witness stand, her full suit of armor clanging threateningly. She had a wicked smirk that taunted Malcolm.
The bailiff came with the Chant of Light for her to swear on.
"I swear to the Maker to tell His truth and nothing but the truth."
The bailiff took the Chant away and Judge Coklan turned to the Knight-Captain. "State your name for the court, please."
"Meredith Stannard, Knight-Captain of the Kirkwall's Templars." She squared her shoulders like she was preparing for an attack.
The judge nodded at Madelina. "Begin."
Madelina sauntered up to Meredith with a confident smile. "So as Knight-Captain, I take it you know Malcolm Hawke quite well."
"Too well," Meredith spat. "He's a loathsome troublemaker and upstart that has been making mischief long before I took my oath. In fact Hawke came to the Circle after murdering his father in cold blood."
She grinned in glee as the audience gasped in shock. She squinted at Leandra with a simper. "Didn't you know?"
Leandra's jaw twitched as she glowered back, arms crossed, finger tapping.
Both Lord and Lady Amell shared a look of concern.
Malcolm slouched into the desk with clenched fists, burying his head in his arms to ignore the incoming glares.
Jaheem gritted his teeth. Malcolm had barely survived one smear attempt. If there was even a kernel of truth to this, they were in trouble.
Madelina circled the room like a vulture. "So Hawke has shown violent tendencies since he was a boy?"
"He was very difficult to keep in line- even with heavy discipline." Meredith nodded with a smile, like she was reliving a good memory.
"So in your professional opinion is Hawke a danger to society?"
Jaheem growled and slammed his fist on his desk. "Objection! That's a loaded question!"
The judge glared warily at Malcolm. "I disagree. Answer the question, Knight-Captain."
Meredith grinned too eagerly. "Yes, I think Hawke is one of the most dangerous men who ever lived."
The audience buzzed at that.
Meredith looked down at Malcolm sneering through her nose. "Not only has that murderer broken out of the Circle many times, including last night, but he has a disciplinary record long enough to make a carpet for this room." She leaned forward to inspect Malcolm's face carefully, enjoying the wild panic in his golden eyes. "If that wasn't bad enough, he's the main suspect in the murders of Templar Matthew Marks and nobleman Arth Elliot."
Jaheem jumped to his feet before Malcolm could react. "That's ridiculous! Both men were murdered by an abomination! And Malcolm was cleared by his medical examiner!"
Meredith leaned back casually, the corner of her lips curling up in victory. "Actually the Circle's doctor has been going over all of Hawke's scans and noticed something peculiar with his brain waves." Meredith nodded to Lady Amell who produced a file to Madelina. She dropped it on the judge's desk for him to peruse. "While the scan initially reads clean, there is an abnormal amount of activity in his hippocampus and amygdala, suggesting that he's interacting with the Fade while awake. We haven't confirmed he's an abomination, but this strongly suggests he's maleficarum and could be controlling the abominations."
"That is circumstantial evidence at best!" Jaheem growled. "And an extreme reading of a simple brain fluctuation."
The judge banged his gavel sternly. "This is not your witness at the moment, Serah Omenma."
Jaheem groaned and reluctantly sat down. He held his head in his hands trying to wrack his brain for what to do.
As the judge looked at Meredith's 'evidence,' Leandra rummaged through her briefcase for files and started scribbling something down in her notebook, her pom pom bobbing wildly.
Madelina turned to Meredith. "How certain are you of these findings? As my opponent said, Hawke's medical examination was clean."
Meredith curled her thin lips in a sneer. "It is not a coincidence that Hawke was witnessed having altercations with both Matthew and Arth before their deaths."
"Objection!" Jaheem stood up and turned to the judge. "You can't convict someone on mere coincidence! Your Honor the prosecution has given nothing but circumstantial evidence. Where is the actual proof?"
The judge frowned, his eyes drifting to Lady Alvah who glared back with her beady black eyes. "Circumstantial it may be, but given your client's violent history, this is not something I can ignore."
Jaheem slumped his shoulders, knowing that the judge would say something to that effect. That's when Leandra slid her note on Jaheem's desk.
He read it quickly and said, "Your Honor, I have evidence that Malcolm was otherwise preoccupied during the murder of Matthew Marks."
The judge raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "What evidence is this?"
Lady Amell and Madelina glanced in question at each other.
Jaheem turned to Leandra expectantly and she stood up with a curtsy. "Um, a video, your Honor. May I request a recess while I go to the location to retrieve it?"
Malcolm looked confused at what she could possibly mean when the realization dawned on him. "Babe, you don't mean to-"
Leandra shushed him harshly.
The judge looked conflicted about what to do, but his gaze fell to Lady Alvah who gave a slight nod.
He sighed raggedly. "Alright, you have two hours. Everyone's dismissed."