POV: SERAPHINE
The tribunal chamber was too small for what it needed to hold.
Not physically—the Southern council hall was massive, with vaulted ceilings and space for hundreds. But metaphorically, it felt inadequate for the weight of what we were attempting.
Justice for genocide. Justice for a conspiracy that had killed thousands. Justice delivered by a joint tribunal of the very species my uncle had tried to keep forever separated.
I sat in the gallery, watching as the tribunal assembled. Three judges: one dragon lord from the North, one human magistrate from the South, and one Reborn—a woman who'd transformed during the cathedral attack and lost her entire family to Corvin's bombs.
My uncle sat in the defendant's cage, looking smaller somehow than he had during the attack. Still defiant, still convinced of his righteousness, but diminished by chains and the weight of what he'd done.
The evidence took an entire day to present.
