CHAPTER 128
The council chamber still rang with the echo of raised voices long after the session had ended. Servants moved about gathering parchments and spilled cups, while elders left in twos and threes, muttering among themselves. Their words were low, but Grace caught the edge of them: coin, forgery, theater, madness.
Jonah remained seated, as if the debate still continued for her alone. She did not speak to Grace, nor even look at her, but her composure was weapon enough.
Grace dismissed her witnesses quietly. They bowed, uncertain whether their courage had changed anything at all, and departed with Mathew escorting them. Soon, the hall emptied until only Grace, Jonah, and a handful of elders lingered.
"You twist the air into fog," Grace said finally, her voice low but edged.
