“Repeat your opening statement,” she said to Livia. “Say, ‘Kael stole the cup.’”

The church brought forward witnesses. A merchant swore he saw Kael near the temple vault. A guard produced a signed confession—forced, Kael claimed, after three days without sleep. The prosecutor, a sharp-toothed woman named Livia, laid out a perfect, venomous chain of logic.

Livia’s mouth opened. No sound came out. The law-stone remained dark.

She returned to her bench. She did not deliver a long speech. She wrote a single line on the verdict scroll:

“No,” Judge Thorne said. “I asked if you touched the cup before it was reported stolen. The temple’s own log shows you visited the vault the night before. Alone.”

She turned to Livia. “Show me yours.”