Rufe's brow quirked up in surprise, and he sat up straighter, a hunter’s smirk tugging his mouth.
“This is a closed courtroom, Ms. Andreassen,” her Honor replied, claiming her chair.
“Representative Jones, your Honor,” the woman whispered, keeping her eyes lowered.
Dietricksen cackled.
“You certainly didn't waste any time, Ms. Montgomery. Very pragmatic.”
Ms. Montgomery's eyes flared ruby-red before subsiding as she rose to stand beside her client. “The defense did not request the attendance of any Angel of Mercy. My client is innocent.”
“Indeed,” Her Honor replied curtly, smothering her amusement and mulling the matter over. “Very well. As Representative Jones is a member of the Quorum, I'll spare her five minutes in my chambers to justify her request.”
Her existence, more like.
For the brief moment her chamber door was open, a shrill, savage roar echoed from deeper within the skyscraper, accompanied by the sound of something ripping — a gentle reminder of the consequences for any who dared attempt evading the court's justice.
Rufe made an indistinct noise, clearing his throat.
It could not have been humor — the man would break if he laughed. Although if he had, watching the Community’s elite squirm after hearing the last remnant of the Wild Hunt take their tea would doubtlessly tickle it.
Ms. Andreassen click-clacked to the courtroom’s broad doors and stepped aside to admit a most peculiar young woman — one who had obviously arrived posthaste via the Peregrine Gate. Attired in a white tank top and jeans — both liberally adorned with sawdust — Representative Jones stepped barefoot into the historic room.
Rufe appeared to be in actual pain, poor chap, as he observed the lady. He swallowed thickly, fully dumbstruck. No doubt, he slept and showered in a suit to avoid such an embarrassing situation.
Ms. Montgomery's jaw worked, scandalized by the Representative’s slovenly appearance, while the prosecuting attorney, Mr. Li, was not quite clutching his pearls, but it was a near thing. Those closest to him readied themselves to assist, should he succumb to the vapors.
“This way,” murmured Ms. Andreassen, her kitten heels skittering.
Jones followed in a resolute stride. Despite her inappropriate garb, she seemed immune to the curiosity her appearance excited. From the crown of tea-colored dreadlocks to the flex of her ankles, every detail was absorbed and dissected. Her mahogany skin, her mesorrhine nose, and the way her flashing eyes assessed the room in one sweeping glance.
Ms. Andreassen ushered the Representative back to Her Honor’s rooms before returning to her station. She had just enough time to slouch in her chair and draw a deep breath before Judge Dietricksen's head emerged from the passage.
“Ms. Andreassen, a moment.”
Eyes comically widened, the little clerk scrambled up and scampered after her.
For several minutes, only soft inhalations and the ticking of an old pocket watch were heard in that hallowed hall. Then, causing a second fervor, Ms. Andreassen reappeared.
“Ms. Montgomery, Mr. Wilton's presence has been requested. Please escort him through.”
“Ms. Andreassen, I must protest,” Mr. Li proclaimed, rising from his seat.
“Judge Dietricksen requested me to explain that the boy is not going to kidnap her from the Agora, Mr. Li, and while these circumstances are unusual, they are lawful and not without precedent. As it stands, Mr. Wilton is only accused of a crime — not convicted. He still retains all the rights and privileges of a registered member of the Community, so sit down.”
Mr. Li, as surprised as anyone at her commanding tone, sat.
Levi Wilton, after a nod from his attorney, hesitantly rose from his chair and followed Ms. Montgomery.
Exactly one minute and eleven seconds later, the entire group returned.
“Representative Jones has requested permission to observe the hearing. She has presented excellent reasons for doing so, and I am inclined to accede to her request. Mr. Wilton, do you have any objection?”
Mr. Wilton appeared to have found his courage somewhere between the Judge's chamber and the courtroom. He met Judge Dietricksen's glacial scrutiny with striking composure before his gaze roved over to Representative Jones.
“No, Your Honor.”
“Mr. Li,” she inquired, addressing the prosecution.
“None, Your Honor, barring the irregularity of the situation.”
“Excellent. Representative Jones, please find a seat and let's begin,” Judge Dietricksen said brightly, reclaiming her own. “Levi Wilton, you stand accused of warped practices. As you have confessed before a member of the Quorum, and due to the serious nature of the crime, this matter has been recommended for immediate trial. Ms. Montgomery, I conclude that your client wishes to present a defense?”
Ch. 1 Time’s Up Pt. 2
By Thio Isobel Moss
“All rise.”
Her Honor, Judge Mara Dietricksen of the Heliaia — the High Court — swept in, her gray robes billowing like a wraith. The room went silent. The lady had earned her reputation — her judgment was fair but flinty, and a sense of decorum was advisable.
“Your Honor, a petition has been entered to admit observers to this hearing,” stammered the little clerk.
