Chapter 36

Hadrian snapped his fingers, and within a heartbeat, two servants entered the courtroom carrying an enormous wooden chair. They placed it ceremoniously in the center of the room, its grandeur commanding immediate attention. Turning back to me, Hadrian extended his hand, his courteous smile warm yet authoritative. My throat tightened as I swallowed nervously, but I placed my hand in his, allowing him to guide me to the witness chair.

The moment I settled into the seat, an overwhelming sense of smallness washed over me. The chair's towering back loomed nearly two feet above my head, and its sheer size rendered me unable to reach its backrest even when I perched fully on the edge. My legs dangled, suspended in the air, and I knew how ridiculous I must have appeared. Still, I straightened my posture, my back rigid, my chin lifted high, and my eyes steady, trying to exude an air of poise.

Hadrian's reassuring smile flickered briefly in my direction, a subtle gesture meant to steady my nerves. Drawing a deep breath, I willed myself to focus.

"Ms. Thalassa Drayton is the sole survivor of the night of the auction," Hadrian declared, his voice slicing through the courtroom murmurs. "As you can see, she is human." His words ignited an uproar among the crowd.

I had assumed that every vampire in the room had already sensed my humanity the moment I entered, but the explosion of outrage made me question if they were either feigning ignorance or theatrically exaggerating their reaction.

"Lord Protector Kessler, what is the meaning of this?" one of the auxiliary judges erupted, his voice sharp with indignation. "You dare to bring a human into a vampire's sacred court?"

The outburst came from a man with raven-black hair and deep brown eyes that burned a fiery red as he glared at me. I fought the instinct to shrink beneath his searing gaze, forcing myself instead to take a measured breath and appear unfazed.

Hadrian stepped forward, placing himself between me and the enraged judge, his presence a protective barrier.

"My dear Lord Protector Ashcroft," Hadrian began, his tone light and mocking, "how could I not bring a human before this court when she is both a victim and a critical witness? Or are you suggesting that your senses are so dull you only now realized she isn't a vampire?" He smirked wickedly, the taunt landing with precision.

The tension escalated until the lead judge rose from her seat, her commanding presence instantly silencing the murmurs.

"I authorized this human's testimony," she announced, her tone sharp and final.

Lord Protector Ashcroft glared at her but refrained from further objections, cowed by her authority. Her gaze, laden with power, swept over the room, quieting all but Hadrian, who remained unaffected. He acknowledged her with a smirk and a nod, which she returned before motioning for him to proceed.

"Ms. Drayton," Hadrian began, his voice steady, "can you recount how you came to attend the Red Ruby Casino's special event?"

I inhaled deeply, steadying myself, and began to speak. Following Hadrian's earlier advice, I recounted every harrowing detail with composure, suppressing the waves of pain and fury that threatened to break free. I spoke of Amara, the so-called banquet that revealed itself as a vile auction, the brutal imprisonment, and the horrifying valuation of our blood. My voice faltered only briefly as I described the gruesome aftermath: the torn flesh, the dismembered bodies, and the pools of blood that had once been living, breathing women.

Throughout my testimony, I fixed my gaze on Hadrian. His calm, unwavering eyes seemed to anchor me, offering a strange sense of solace as I relived the nightmare.

When I finally finished, the judges conferred in hushed tones, their expressions tense. The air was thick with unease. My gaze wandered instinctively to the Vexleys, where I met the furious eyes of the Warden's sons. Their venomous glare sent a chill through me, but I quickly reminded myself of Hadrian's promise.

"Stay composed, Thalassa," I repeated silently. "Do not let them see your fear."

A sharp voice broke through the murmurs. "While it is regrettable that humans were handed over to degenerates, I fail to see any crime here. Humans often sell their own blood and flesh willingly. How do we know this is not the same situation?"

The speaker, a judge with dark grey hair and a cunning smile, fixed me with a cold, calculating stare. Fury bubbled beneath my calm exterior, but before I could react, Hadrian's expression shifted into a sly smile.

He remained silent, waiting.

"And what do you propose, Judge Zephyr?" the lead judge asked, her tone measured but tinged with curiosity.

"Perhaps the Vexley family has evidence to support their case," Zephyr suggested, gesturing toward their attorney, who stepped forward, documents in hand.

"Let us see this evidence, then," Hadrian said, his voice laced with mockery, as he retreated gracefully to his seat.

Left alone in the witness chair, I felt exposed, the weight of the room's attention pressing down on me. My eyes darted to Hadrian, but he remained impassive, flipping through papers with an air of indifference.

"Mr. Orin, you may proceed," the lead judge instructed.

"Thank you, Your Honor," the attorney said, stepping into the center of the room. His voice carried an ominous edge that set my heart racing.

"I present to this court evidence that every woman sold at our auctions agreed to participate willingly," he declared, raising a stack of documents high for all to see.

"This is absurd," I whispered, disbelief and anger clashing within me.

The lead judge examined the contracts with a skeptical smile. "How can we verify the authenticity of these signatures?" she asked, her voice sharp.

"That’s quite simple, Your Honor," Mr. Orin began, his voice dripping with mockery. "We’ll have our charming witness provide a fresh signature for comparison. After all, her signed contract is among the evidence, even if it was under a different name. We also have a scanned copy of her ID to verify." His lips twisted into a wicked sneer.

"That’s a lie! I’ve never signed any contract with them!" I shouted, my voice trembling with outrage.

"Silence this insolent human at once!" Judge Zephyr thundered, fury flashing in his eyes as he motioned to the guards.

Before they could act, Hadrian surged from his seat, placing himself squarely in front of me like a storm unleashed. His presence was a shield, his roar a feral warning. The guards hesitated, retreating under the weight of his authority and the unyielding strength of the Lord Protector.

"I seem to have forgotten to mention something to the Night Council," Hadrian said, his voice cold and sharp. "Ms. Thalassa Drayton is my employee, under my personal protection. Anyone who dares defy the House of Kessler will answer to me."

My heart raced as I stared at him, a mixture of gratitude and dread swelling in my chest. When his gaze turned to me, it was a glare that could pierce through stone. I swallowed hard and cast my eyes downward, shame curling in my stomach. This mess was my fault. If I had held my tongue, I wouldn’t have confirmed their worst assumptions about me.

"Order!" the presiding judge demanded, her voice cutting through the tense air. As the room gradually settled, she turned to me with an imperious look. "Ms. Drayton, you will provide a sample of your signature immediately."

Hadrian returned to his seat without another word. A pen and paper appeared before me, handed by an aide. I snatched them, glancing at Mr. Orin, whose smirk radiated malice.

"Sign the name Thalassa Mariner," he instructed, his voice thick with triumph.

I froze, the name stabbing through me like a knife. Thalassa Mariner. The name I had used while living quietly in my Monteforte City apartment. A flood of realization hit me, crashing over my thoughts. That’s how they had gotten my signature—and the signatures of countless others. We’d all signed work contracts for that event, innocently handing over our personal details. It was the perfect setup. The dead couldn’t contest forged documents, and I, the lone survivor, was trapped in a battle of my word against theirs.

I clenched my jaw, anger and helplessness warring within me. How could they get away with such monstrous deceit?

I looked at Hadrian, hoping for some flicker of reassurance, but his expression remained a mask. Taking a steadying breath, I signed the name.

Orin wasted no time. He retrieved my alleged contract from the judges, paired it with the freshly written signature, and paraded them both around the courtroom like trophies. "Your Honor, esteemed judges, members of the Night Council," he declared, his voice thick with feigned conviction, "the proof is undeniable. You can see with your own eyes—the handwriting is identical!"

The room stirred with whispers and murmurs. My chest tightened as despair clawed at me. I had come here believing in justice, hoping to avenge my friend and the other innocent victims. Now, all of it seemed futile, slipping through my fingers like smoke.

Then, cutting through the rising noise, Hadrian laughed. It wasn’t a laugh of mirth but a dark, menacing sound that froze the entire room in its tracks.

"Have you had your fun, Orin?" he said, his voice like ice. His piercing gaze locked onto the Vexleys' attorney. "Because now, it’s my turn."