A week later, Ruban and Simani exited Courtroom 7 for the last time.

A sudden, joyous whoop, and Hiya sprinted down the hallway bordered by stately marble columns. The moment she was close enough, she threw herself into Ruban’s arms. He picked her up effortlessly, allowing her to bury her face into the crook of his neck.

Vikram and Sri followed Hiya down the corridor at a more sedate pace. Both father and son were smiling widely. As soon as he reached her, Sri wrapped both arms around Simani’s torso, pressing himself as close to his mother as physically possible.

“Is it over now?” Hiya mumbled against the side of Ruban’s neck, her barely-stifled tears leaving his skin damp. “Can we take him home? Please say we can go home.”

Her voice broke halfway through that last sentence.

Gently, Ruban stroked her hair, tangled and disheveled from days of neglect. Guilt gnawed at his chest. He couldn’t imagine how stressful the last few weeks would have been for Hiya, who had lost both her parents before her eleventh birthday.

The last thing he wanted was for her to live in fear of losing her family once again.

“Yes, yes, we’ll bring him back. We’re going home.” He massaged her back lightly, providing what comfort he could. “Just give me a few more hours, okay?”

Just a few more bureaucratic formalities, some paperwork, and they’d all be free to go home. Breathing in the familiar scent of Hiya’s shower gel, Ruban closed his eyes. After everything that’d happened, it almost seemed too good to be true.

Together, their small group walked down the scenic front lawn of the courthouse. Birds chirped in the background, fresh grass rustling and crunching beneath their feet. Hiya all but dozed off in Ruban’s arms.

The front gates – teeming with reporters, photographers, and curious onlookers – finally came into view. Before they could reach it, however, Ruban and his companions came face to face with Viman Rai.

Tall, slender, and sharply-dressed as always, Viman raised an imperious brow at Ruban. “Going to pick up your…ah…friend, I take it?” He eyed him, assessing. “I suppose congratulations are in order.”

The slight inflection on the word ‘friend’ made Ruban’s hair stand on end. He felt Hiya tense in his arms. Forcing himself not to react, he drew in a deep breath.

“Thank you,” he said plainly, dipping his head slightly in a show of gratitude. “After all, we couldn’t have done it without you. Credit where credit is due, and all that.”

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Viman stiffened, a frown marring his refined, symmetrical features.

Ruban bit back a smile. It was the reaction he’d been trying to elicit. Still, the sentiment behind the words was genuine. He was grateful, whether Viman Rai wanted his gratitude or not.

While investigating the attack on Simani, Ruban had spent days tracking down each one of the fair-goers, hawkers, or stall-owners who’d been in the vicinity of the Hunt that fateful evening. After days of searching, he’d managed to find four people who’d successfully recorded some portion of the fight on their phone.

Of those four, only one young chaat vendor – who’d apparently been hiding behind her wrecked food cart – had actually managed to capture the crucial few seconds. Those heart-stopping, chaotic moments when the three Aeriels aimed their energy-shells at each other, heedless of the humans around them.

The X-class that Ruban had been fighting had its shell aimed at Ashwin. The latter, in turn, was targeting the third Aeriel, which seemed not to care whether its shell struck Ruban or the X-class in front of him.

The vendor’s camera focused primarily on Ashwin. Whether this was simply because of the angle of the shot, or because the young woman had some particular interest in the Aeriel prince, Ruban didn’t know. The important thing was that the video captured the exact moment when Ashwin released his shell.

A fraction of a second later, Simani stumbled into the frame, directly in the path of the shell. The shell all but plowed through her before hitting its intended target.

The angle of the video was such that one couldn’t see who’d pushed Simani into the path of the shell. But her movements, jerky and involuntary, made it clear enough that she’d been pushed.

For several days after Ruban found the vendor, he’d been reluctant to submit the footage – grainy and unsteady as it was – into evidence. For the sake of the young woman who’d recorded it.

Her only fault was being present in the wrong place at the wrong time. But even if Ruban had tried to keep her identity under wraps, some enterprising reporter would’ve tracked her down once the video was played in court. And after that, the poor girl would have been ripped to shreds by the so-called pundits and opinion-makers who ran the circus that was the news media.

It was one thing for the press to target Ruban and his colleagues. They were trained professionals, with years of experience dealing with reporters, not to mention the full backing of an institution as powerful as the IAW. Some ranting pundit condemning Ruban or the Hunter Corps might be a nuisance, but never a true threat. Not to them, at least.

A young food vendor with no money or connections to shield her from public ire – that was a different matter altogether. They’d have accused her of being a sellout, perhaps even a traitor. Might’ve even tried to prove she’d forged the video in exchange for a bribe. Ruban had been willing to do almost anything to prevent that possibility.

The best solution, according to both Vikram as well as his longtime mentor Dawad, was to release the video through the media itself. Ruban could’ve simply handed the footage over to Casia Washi, allowing her to air it on her show.

But Casia’s reputation, in this matter, wasn’t much better than Ruban’s. They were both seen as being partial to the prince of Vaan, and to the Vaan alliance in general. And while Casia was nowhere near as vulnerable as the young chaat-seller would’ve been, some of the same allegations (of betrayal and bribery) might very well have been leveled against her.

Viman Rai was the one person in the media whose history made him completely immune to any such accusations. He was also one of the few who had the most incentive to not want the video released in public.