#Chapter 30: The Witness

(Violet’s POV) The room didn’t shift at first. When the bailiff stepped forward and murmured something to the lead Justicar, no one leaned forward. No one held their breath. They were too well-trained for that. But when the Justicar’s gavel struck again, short and unplanned, the quiet that followed wasn’t orderly—it was anticipatory. Like something had stepped into the room that didn’t belong to court procedure. “The tribunal recognizes a protected witness,” the Chief Justicar said. “By pre-filed motion, their identity will be disclosed under oath.” It was unusual, unscripted—enough to make even Arden Vale pause, his pen stilled against parchment—then the doors opened, and she entered. An old woman in gray—plain robes, boots too heavy for her frame, her posture slightly bent, but not weak. She walked as if the years had carved her, not broken her. Her hair was the color of frost. Her eyes—sunken, rimmed in shadow—were a faded blue that seemed to burn instead of dim.