Dex closed the door behind him, and the silence in the private chamber told him everything he needed to know about what had been said before he arrived.
Tiberon stood at the window, hands clasped behind his back.
Bellatrix sat near the hearth, spine straight, face carved from ice. She spoke first.
"Your princess made quite the display."
Dex didn't sit. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "My princess could set this room on fire and I'd hand her the match. What's your point?"
Bellatrix's nostrils flared. "She cried. In open court. During a treason trial. For the accused."
"She cried for a seamstress with a kid who's about to lose her mother over a crime she didn't commit. You're right. What a monster."
