Derek was alone in his study, pacing slowly. The room was dim, illuminated only by a single lamp on his desk and the soft glow of his laptop and monitor screen. In his hand, he held a glass of brandy. He had dismissed everyone else, Declan, Kai and Ruby, needing the isolation to think. The room was his now, quiet except for the faint tick of the wall clock and the occasional creak of the floorboards beneath his feet. He was still in his ceremonial robes.
He was calmer now. The sharp, hot edge of anger had dulled into something colder and heavier. The earlier scene kept replaying in his mind in a loop he couldn't stop: Kira standing in the centre of the room, chin high, eyes blazing, asserting her innocence. The maids' trembling testimonies. Kira's accusations.
"Is this how you run your court? You decide guilt before hearing the defence?"
