I focused on breathing. Just breathing.
In. Out. In. Out.
The High Chancellor's voice boomed across the chamber. "Bring forth the first accused, Mr. Richard Croft, slave trader of the Eastern Markets."
The guards dragged him forward, and I had to bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep from reacting.
He looked pathetic. Gone was the smug merchant who had kept me chained in a wagon, who had sold me like I was nothing more than livestock. Now he was just a trembling, sweating mess of a man, his eyes darting around the courtroom like a cornered rat looking for escape.
There was none.
"Mr. Croft," the High Chancellor continued, reading from an official-looking scroll. "You stand accused of illegal trafficking, falsification of ownership documents, and collaboration in a conspiracy against a member of the Imperial family. How do you plead?"
