Carriages arrived three hours early, long before court was set to begin. One by one, guests poured through the castle gates, yet unlike the usual spectacle of silks and jeweled fabrics, every man and woman wore black.
Today was no celebration. Today, they would witness with their own eyes whether the Crown's bloodline would end with Cassius.
Clusters of ministers had begun to gather outside the court doors, their presence closely watched by the guests who had arrived as silent judges, eager spectators in a play too grim for fanfare. Whispers flowed between velvet sleeves and behind gloved hands, had the ministers reached a verdict? Would Cassius finally fall?
Helena, fully aware of the many eyes on her, clicked her tongue. She extended a gloved hand, and Paul quickly offered her a thin cigarette. John followed, striking a match to light it.
