Simani came in through the back door, the same one through which the judges had entered. She was accompanied by a uniformed nurse on one side, a Hunter on the other. Her left arm was in a sling and she was limping slightly, but Ruban supposed that was to be expected. It’d only been six days since she was released from the hospital.

The nurse helped her get onto the witness stand and take her seat. The Hunter stood a few steps away, alert, his gaze fixed on Ashwin.

The Aeriel wasn’t looking at Simani, however. Instead, he stared unblinkingly at the front doorway. Ruban turned his head, following Ashwin’s gaze.

He frowned.

At the doorway stood Dhriti Pathak – the senior secretary of defence – dressed as if she was going to attend a gala.

What could she possibly be doing here?

Before Ruban could contemplate the issue any further, a cheer went up around him.

Confused, he turned around. Only to realize that the entire gallery was cheering for Simani.

He glanced at his partner, and she seemed as confused as he was. Not to mention stiff and uncomfortable. She wasn’t the type to seek attention at the best of times; and she’d certainly seen better times.

Still, this was the first time she’d made a public appearance since that disastrous Hunt in Central Ragah. And there was a significant period when many believed she wouldn’t make it out of the hospital. The risk had been very real. And the media had spared no effort to further sensationalize it, to grab as many eyeballs as possible.

It made sense that the people were happy to see her again, alive and in (relatively) good health.

The cheering continued until the head judge was forced to call the court back to order.

Once things had calmed down, and Simani had been properly sworn in, the prosecuting attorney rose from his seat and approached her. He was a balding, middle-aged man with a bulbous nose, but his aura was captivating.

He asked a few preliminary questions, before plunging straight into the crux of the matter.

“During your last Hunt – at Central Ragah’s Komini Fair – did Prince Shwaan attack you?”

“I don’t know,” said Simani candidly. “I didn’t see him do so.”

The attorney dipped his head in acknowledgement. “Let me rephrase that question. Were you struck by the prince’s energy-shell?”

“Yes, I was. To the best of my knowledge.”

At this, the gallery erupted in a buzz of excited murmurs. The reporters in the row in front of Ruban typed more furiously than ever, before huddling together for a brief discussion.

“Do you believe it was his intention to kill you, with that shell?”

The defence table objected to that line of questioning, on account of it being a call for speculation. The objection was sustained, much to the frustration of the gallery.

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Undeterred, the prosecutor plowed ahead. “Have you ever felt threatened by Prince Shwaan over the course of your acquaintance with him? Both before and after you learned of his true identity.”

For a moment, Simani remained silent. It was a tricky question, which was why it’d been asked.

To say she’d never felt threatened by Ashwin, even after learning he was an Aeriel, would seem…suspicious, at best. But, on the other hand, feeling threatened by an Aeriel was simply a natural reaction. It wouldn’t necessarily prove that the Aeriel in question meant her any harm.

“I was uncomfortable, initially,” she finally began. “With the prince’s increasing involvement in our work—”

“You mean the work of the Hunter Corps?” the prosecutor clarified.

“Yes. When I was first told who he was, I was very reluctant to work with him. Or to let him have any part in our Hunts or investigations. After all, killing Aeriels is the core function of the Hunter Corps.” She smiled grimly. “Doesn’t feel right to have an Aeriel helping us kill his own kind.”

“I suppose not,” the prosecutor agreed, his lips quirking. “But from the way you speak in the past tense, I’m assuming something changed your mind.”

“The fact that he’s good at it. Killing Aeriels, I mean. Didn’t you see him make short work of the X-class that attacked the protest rally last month?” Simani shrugged. “You can’t argue with skill.”

Whispers of confusion, uncertainty swept through the gallery. This wasn’t what the onlookers had expected her to say.

Ignoring the hubbub, the prosecutor asked calmly. “Did you agree to have Prince Shwaan participate in the Hunt at Central Ragah?”

“Not particularly, no. But I was aware that he usually monitored our Hunts from a distance. I…had reason to be confident that he wouldn’t interfere unnecessarily—”

“And yet,” the prosecutor pointed out. “That’s exactly what he did.”

“He interfered, yes.” Simani met his gaze. “As to whether or not it was necessary for him to do so—”

“In what way was it ‘necessary’ for him to attack you with an energy-shell?”

“There were two Aeriels cornering Ruban, one of them an X-class.” Simani took a sip from the bottle in front of her. “Just because I was hit by Ash-Prince Shwaan’s energy-shell doesn’t necessarily mean I was its target. That shell also killed one of the two Aeriels that’d been trying to incinerate Ruban.”

“Just to make sure we’re on the same page.” Stepping over to his table, the prosecutor picked up a file. “You’re talking about Ruban Kinoh, Chief Hunter of the South Ragah Division.”

“And my partner.” Simani’s gaze flicked to the gallery, then back. “Yes. That’s the one.”

“You think the prince used his shell to – proverbially – kill two birds with one stone?”

Ruban saw the defence attorney twitch in his seat. A tall, slender man with a head full of curly gray hair, he was clearly chafing to step in. But before he could raise the objection that was on the tip of his tongue, Simani answered.

“I think he was trying to kill only one bird,” she said, deadpan. “Or one Aeriel, to be precise. If it was his intention to kill me, that was a singularly inept way to go about it. And I’ve never known him to be anything but a shrewd, strategic thinker.”

“Have you known him frequently to plan murders?” the prosecutor asked, equally deadpan.

“Well, he did plan his mother’s.” Simani shrugged. “With Ruban’s help, of course. But they did manage to do something generations of Hunters had failed to do. And I can’t help but think, having an Aeriel on our side this time around, that must’ve been what made the difference. Not that we knew who he was, back then.”

Immediately, the courtroom was plunged into a cacophony of overlapping conversations and exclamations. Everyone had something to say about the claim that Ashwin had been the deciding factor in humanity’s ultimate victory over Tauheen.

But whether the audience agreed with her conclusion or not, Simani’s words had served their purpose. Which was simply to remind them of the times Ashwin had helped humanity in the past.

It was a few minutes before the judges could bring the courtroom back to some semblance of order. As the room returned to silence, the prosecutor cleared his throat.

“If Prince Shwaan didn’t intend to kill you,” he began, taking a step towards Simani. “Then why would he have struck you with that energy-shell?”

“He didn’t!” She bit her lip. “Or, well, he did. Technically. But only because I was pushed in front of the shell.”

“Pushed?” the prosecutor repeated.

“Yes. And at the last moment. Too late for him to change its trajectory. And to be frank, I’m glad he didn’t. Because if Ash…I mean, if Prince Shwaan hadn’t killed that other Aeriel when he did, it would surely have killed Ruban.”

“Do you-do you know who pushed you?” For once, there was a tinge of uncertainty in the prosecutor’s voice.

“No. I didn’t see who it was.”