My Wife Rules The World

The office was on the upper floor of a high-rise, the city visible through the floor-to-ceiling glass on three sides. Expensive in the specific way of rooms where nothing calls attention to its own cost.

Simon was on the sofa with a glass of wine, jacket off, looking at nothing in particular.

On the adjacent sofa, angled toward him, was Seria. Fourth Seat of the Council, from the Noctis family — their entertainment industry connections weren't as broad as the Maynard group's but they were solid and useful in different ways. She had the kind of face that made people in the entertainment industry want to put her in front of a camera, which she had always treated as a tool rather than a compliment.

"Master Clark." She was looking at her own glass. "When Lady Vanessa returns and takes the First Seat back, she's not going to be pleased about the changes made to the academy events."

Simon took a sip of his wine. "Miss Seria, that's not your concern." He said it without any particular edge. "As Fourth Seat your function is maintaining the academy's public image and keeping scrutiny at a manageable level. Your family's ties in the entertainment industry make you well positioned for that." He paused. "Focus on what you're good at."

Seria looked at him for a moment, then looked away and said nothing.

His phone rang.

He checked the screen — Denice, his assistant — and picked up.

"One of the four grey bands you sent to the tournament has been called before the arbitration panel," she said. "Murder charge. A student named Noah Clove invoked the Witness Clause against him. The trial is currently being broadcast on the screen outside the administration building."

Simon was quiet for a moment.

"Send the live feed to my screen," he said. "I feel like having some fun."

Leon was standing at the edge of the crowd outside the administration building, watching the screen.

Noah was at the podium inside the hall. Even through the camera and the screen Leon could read his face clearly — It was dreadful. Leon had seen him tired, frustrated, angry before. Not like this.

Leon's chest felt strange. Not pain exactly. Something that didn't have a name yet, sitting behind his sternum and pressing outward.

He kept trying to assemble it properly in his head. Krai was dead. The words kept sliding apart before they could settle.

On the screen the lead panelist addressed Noah, running through the case summary — Witness Clause invoked in return of transferring all his CPP to the nearest available teammate, testimony to be assessed against the baseline environment. If the testimony held, the perpetrator Tristen Riven would be punished accordingly.

Noah was ordered to describe the incident.

He did. Leon watched his mouth moving and didn't need the audio clearly to know what he was saying.

When Noah finished the panelist turned to the security dispatch team head standing to the side of the room.

"Your team was dispatched to the location. What did you find?"

The man was in his forties, compact build, hands clasped in front of him.

"We did locate the body of the deceased candidate Krai Novak," he said.

A beat.

"However." He paused. "Based on the verified location data of the accused, Tristen Riven, it was not possible for him to have been present at the site when the incident as described took place."

The crowd outside went quiet in a way that was different from before.

Inside, on the screen, Noah was staring at the officer. His mouth had opened slightly.

Then he turned to the panelists.

"That's not true." His voice was low but the room's microphones were picking it up. "He's lying. He's trying to protect Tristen. They're all involved."

"Candidate Clove—"

"He's lying." Louder now. "Ask someone else. Ask anyone else who was dispatched. He's fabricating this."

"You will remain silent until you are addressed—"

"He's lying to this panel." Noah's voice was breaking apart. "Krai is dead and they're standing there lying about who killed him and you're just going to—"

The panelist nodded to the guard nearest Noah. The guard moved fast, came up behind him, and pulled his arms back, forcing him to stop moving.

The panelist looked at the remaining members of the security dispatch team arranged along the side wall.

"Confirm the statement made by your team head. Is the location data accurate?"

One by one they confirmed it.

Noah had stopped struggling. He was just standing there in the guard's grip, looking at the dispatch team members with the expression of someone who has just understood something disgusting.

Every one of them. All of them backing the same account.

The entire security dispatch team.

Behind the panel, a guard came forward and leaned close to the lead panelist, hand cupped near his mouth. The panelist listened, then his expression shifted in a way that was visible even on the screen. He picked up a phone from the desk.

Whatever he heard on the other end lasted about fifteen seconds.

He put the phone down and looked up at the room with something between urgency and panic on his face.

"Cut the broadcast," he said. "Now. Cut it."

The camera operators looked at each other.

"Cut it." His voice had gone up. He was half out of his chair. "Shut down the cameras. All of them."

Guards started moving toward the camera equipment. People in the room turned to look at each other. Noah lifted his head.

On the screen outside the administration building the image shook once as someone's hand hit a camera, and then the feed cut to black.

The crowd stood in front of a blank screen.