Chapter 9 - The Trial of Blood and Ice
The massive double doors of the ballroom swung wide open.
A collective gasp swept through the crowd as two figures walked down the center aisle.
Emily Sterling walked forward, wearing an elegant, form-fitting navy dress that proudly accentuated her pregnant belly. Her chin was held high, her eyes radiating royalty far grander than any blue-blood lineage.
Beside her walked Daniel. He wore a crisp black suit that could barely conceal the broad, dangerous frame of a warrior who had climbed out of hell itself.
Behind them walked six federal agents in windbreakers, accompanied by the United States Attorney for the District of Colorado.
"Emily..." Julian whispered, stumbling down the stage steps toward her. "Em, oh God... I didn't know... I swear on my life I didn't know!"
Emily stopped three feet from her husband. Her eyes were sorrowful, but firm as stone.
"I know you didn't know, Julian," Emily said softly. "That is your tragedy. You chose to be blind because it was easier than seeing the monster who raised you."
"Arrest them!" Victoria screamed from the stage, backing toward the service exit. "They are trespassers! Security, shoot them!"
None of the Sterling security guards moved. They stood with their heads lowered, already disarmed by the federal marshals stationed at every exit.
Daniel stepped forward, climbing the stage steps with slow, deliberate precision. Every step resonated like the toll of a funeral bell.
Victoria backed away until her spine hit the projection screen, which was still frozen on the image of her heel crushing Daniel's hand.
"Stay away from me, you savage!" Victoria spat, clawing at the wall.
Daniel stopped two feet from her. He looked down at the woman who had thought herself a god among mortals.
"You told me peasants never learn their place," Daniel whispered, his voice low enough only for her to hear. "You were wrong, Victoria. Our place is standing tall while tyrants fall."
The federal prosecutor stepped onto the stage, holding up a federal arrest warrant.
"Victoria Sterling, you are under arrest for two counts of attempted first-degree murder, federal conspiracy, witness tampering, and obstruction of justice. You have the right to remain silent."
Two female marshals grabbed Victoria's arms, twisting them behind her back. The cold steel of handcuffs snapped around her wrists—the same wrists that had worn twelve-million-dollar diamonds minutes earlier.
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As they dragged her down the steps past the silent, disgusted gaze of her former peers, Victoria’s wig slipped, her face pale and streaked with mascara. She looked not like an empress, but like a trapped, venomous viper stripped of its fangs.
***
