We spent the morning preparing for the first hearing. Ramsi and I dressed in our respective regalia and waited for Rafal in the sitting room.

"Enough, holy hell!" he snapped, bursting out of his bedroom with an aggravated growl.

Griz sauntered out behind him with a smirking Ash.

"You haven't let her primp and fiddle with your hair since you were a boy, Fala," Ash said. "You must indulge her."

"It's more than enough, Auntie," Fala backed away from Griz quickly. "Thank you so much."

Ramsi and I struggled not to laugh, but then we both gasped and stared dumbfounded at Rafal.

He was resplendent, decked out in the Provincial colors of Hyki -teal, purple, and silver- and Karami -black and silver.

His hair was brushed to a shine and pulled back into intricate braids that met at the nape of his neck and fell in shining waves to his waist, held in place by a filigree silver ring. A few curls fell around his face, framing those arresting features in a halo of shining auburn.

Silver chains adorned his ears and matching chains at his throat held the House seals of Hyki and Karami. A dagger for each house hung in jeweled scabbards on his hips and his boots were polished to a high sheen.

My brain couldn't reconcile the sharp and suave image before me with my casually comfortable cousin. I was used to seeing him in shirtsleeves, and barefoot in baggy trousers.

"You look fantastic!" I whispered.

Rafal shook his head and scoffed. "Stop it," he chuckled. "You both could stop traffic. While I get run over."

I gaped and Ramsi caught my arm. "He does clean up nice, but don't bother," he sighed.

I frowned. "What?"

"He doesn't know he's fuckable. He has no clue how delicious he is."

I was shocked. Rafal wasn't just handsome with his almond-toned skin and wide blue-gray, green-flecked eyes behind his simple, round black-wire spectacles. Either Griz or Ash had trimmed his beard and mustache until it was an attractive cinnamon-shaded shadow along his jawline and framed his lips.

He was stunning, and, yes, fuckable, to use Ramsi's term. It was rather embarrassing to suddenly find myself attracted to my cousin, but it seemed to be passing quickly.

I felt momentarily inadequate next to him, and I had never given much thought to my appearance, at least not compared to anyone but Robin. My twin and I got noticed all the time. I never paid much attention to any of it. Robin strutted like a rooster while I skulked along in his wake.

Rafal's leanly muscled form moved with grace despite the cane he used almost absently. I couldn't comprehend how he didn't know how striking he was. Our short stroll through the train station gave me a clue, though. Rafal was oblivious to the admiring stares he got, and he got plenty. One fellow even collided with a pretzel vendor's cart staring at my cousin striding by completely unaware with his top hat in one hand. When Ramsi pointed it out, he insisted the looks had to be for us, not him.

Holy hell.

He really didn't know.

Ramsi sighed as we waited for the Fanche carriage to pull to the curb. "It must be nice never to be burdened with the weight of your own beauty. The freedom you and I will never know, Rems."

Rafal shook his head at Ramsi, and I shrugged.

Ramsi cut a bold figure in his Ranger uniform. The Commander's rank stars on his shoulders and collar sparkled gold against the dark gray wool. The silver and black piping that marked him as a Karami native outlined the brass buttons on his coat and at his cuffs, then down the seams of his pants and light gray gloves. Knee-high black boots were mirror-polished with silver plating at the toes and heels. His dress saber hung in a scabbard at a precise angle at his right hip and his darkly gleaming service pistol rested against his left thigh in a leather holster.

The long crest of his hair was braided down to his head and left to flow loose between his shoulders at the nape of his neck.

All I wore was my normal linen shirt, fine tweed vest, and coat with pants and ankle boots under my dark green Robe of Office. My black leather satchel was a gift from Aunt Dru when I graduated from my final courses. My hair was neatly brushed and tamed into a neat cap of waves, tucked behind my ears and back off my face.

Neither of us, in my opinion, could hold a candle to Rafal.

"Thank you, Rams," Rafal winked at us before ducking into the carriage. When we joined him, he went on. "If not for you, I would always wonder if I was indeed fuckable."

"Don't wonder," Ramsi scoffed. "You are. When have I lied to you? About anything, ever?"

Rafal frowned and fiddled with his cane. "Not ever."

"Then believe me when I say you are a beautiful man," Ramsi stared hard at Rafal. "I don't know how you don't know. I mean it's charming, really. Frustrating as fuck, but charming."

"I'll do my best to do better," Rafal promised.

"Hopefully your lady will get through to you," Ramsi grunted. "If anyone can convince a man he's a stud it's a woman."

"I don't need to be convinced I'm a stud," Rafal pointed out. "I don't care about that, not really."

"I know, but you are!" Ramsi insisted. "And that right there is probably one of the reasons why you're so attractive."

"He's not exaggerating," I added. "You really are." He really was.

Rafal smiled at both of us, a genuine, open smile. His vivid eyes were clear, and I realized none of us had a drop of liquor in our systems since last night. Ramsi immediately destroyed my spark of pride in our sobriety by pulling a flask from a pocket inside his coat for a quick sip.

"Do we really need to be drinking today?" I frowned.

"We who, and what's different about today?" Ramsi asked, taking another sip before he passed the flask to Rafal across from me. "The sun came up, didn't it?"

I shook my head when Rafal took a long sip and then handed the flask back.

"I keep intending to back off," Rafal admitted, absently toying with the head of his cane again. "But recent events make facing my days completely sober less than desirable."

"Well, this day," I snapped, staring hard at both of them, "I need both of you sober because you very well may need to speak at this hearing."

Ramsi froze with the flask halfway to his lips. With a muttered "Fuck" he put the cap back on and tucked it away.

"Those papers from the box will be instrumental in squashing Dyson's attempt to claim precedence in Succession," I told Rafal.

The treasure trove of documents in that lacquer box made me want to stand up and crow. I was eager to get into court.

"So, Rems," Ramsi turned to me, "how many cases have you tried, anyway?"

That was a question I was surprised Rafal hadn't asked me yet.

"Including this one?" I stalled.

"Yeah, how many?"

"Ah. One."

Ramsi stared at me for several seconds. Finally, he shook his head and pulled the flask out again. Rafal laughed lightly and we both turned to him.

"It's all right, Rams," Rafal nodded at us with a slight smile. There was a soft glow in his eyes that made the green flecks deep within the blue-gray irises pulse for a moment. "He'll do fine. I have every faith in him."

The weight of Rafal's trust in me should have been oppressive, but it wasn't. I didn't feel pressured. I felt empowered, encouraged, and free.

***

I was lucky enough to spend my time as an intern working under Uncle Digory. Ramsi's father was a good man, studious with quiet humor about him.

He was also the Imperial Magistrate General. In all of Ankher, only the Monarch's personal litigator was higher ranked. Since we currently had no sitting Monarch, Uncle Digory's authority was supreme.

He held court in the central Council Chamber and only glanced at us for a moment when we entered. I held the door while Rafal and Ramsi came through with Ash and Griz behind them.

Dyson's lip curled in a sneer when he saw me sit beside Rafal at the Defendant's table. I ignored him and laid out my papers and such on the table while Rafal and Ramsi settled in.

"You are not drinking in court!" I hissed at Ramsi when he reached into his coat.

He gave me a childish pout but left the flask in his pocket. Rafal whispered something in his ear that had him smiling.

I turned away from them to get my head on straight. Dyson's attorney sat with Robin at the Plaintiff's table on the other side of the room, and I saw the man's light brown eyes bounce between my Twin and me several times.

I ignored him, too. I recognized him as a passingly adequate attorney, though I couldn't recall his name. He did more clerking than litigation. I had never known him to engage any high-profile clients, and he never took on risky or difficult complicated cases. I had no idea how Dyson talked him into this shitshow, but he was about to catch holy hell from me if he was planning to fight this out.

I relaxed when Digory's bailiff stepped forward to call the Chamber to order. Councilors hurried to find their places, and I counted over half the seats along the walls empty.

Good. This case didn't get much attention. That boded well for Dyson's failure to wrangle support for his attempt to amend the Succession Law.

What a jackass.

I was looking forward to stripping his lies away to reveal his rotten core.

"Gentlemen," Digory began, nodding at me and the other attorney. "Attorneys present?"

"Josephus Sayer for Prince Dyson Fanche, Your Honor," Dyson's attorney stood and bowed.

"Remus Fanche for Grand Domai Rafal Fanche, Your Honor," I bowed and resumed my seat.

Robin's green eyes narrowed on me. It was the only physical difference between us, and I don't know why I smiled so widely at him. It was all I could do to keep myself from laughing at the dull red that flooded his face. Dyson was paler than I remembered but he scowled at me across the open floor. I had a smile for him too.

I turned my attention back when Digory began to speak.

"Gentlemen, the matter before this Council is a question of Succession. Master Sayer, your brief," Digory's graying brows twitched as he scrolled through the brief, and I pursed my lips to hide a smile. Sayer's work was far below my uncle's standards.

"Your brief suggests the late Domai Drucila Fanche submitted a Decree of Designation naming Prince Dyson Fanche's to-be-born heir or heirs as her heir."

"Yes, Your Honor. If it pleases the court..."

"It does not." Digory cut him off. "Master Fanche, your rebuttal indicates Lady Drucila Fanche did not Designate her brother's offspring, but her own."

"Yes, Your Honor."

One of the first lessons I learned from my time as Digory's intern was: Answer the question that was asked and shut your mouth.

Digory laced his fingers together on top of his desk. "We shall hear arguments. Master Sayer."

Sayer looked like he'd swallowed his tongue, but he sprang to his feet anyway.

"Your Honor, my client's deep concern for the welfare of the people..."

"Your argument, Master Sayer," Digory snapped. His dark green eyes simmered with impatience and Sayer cleared his throat and snatched up his tablet.

"We contend that the late Domai, debilitated by poor health, mistakenly filed a second Decree of Designation after giving birth to her son. If I may call the court's attention to our brief, the Decree is clearly dated and signed three months before Lady Fanche gave birth.

"It is therefore our position that the Seat of Hyki Province should be rightfully bestowed upon Prince Robin Fanche, the eldest born son of Prince Dyson Fanche."

Digory peered over his rimless spectacles at Sayer then arched a brow, waiting for him to finish. When he stood there clutching his tablet, Digory moved things along himself. "You have the floor, Master Fanche."

"Your Honor," I sorted my papers and gathered what I needed while Sayer hurried to his seat. "We contend that the Decree of Designation presented by the plaintiff is a forgery. Lady Fanche was confined to her bed a mester and a half before giving birth, as these documents will verify."

I handed the bailiff my first pieces of evidence and waited for Digory's nod to continue. "As you can see, my Lord, the attending physic, Doctor Ikabod Yol supported by the Head Midwife, Madam Sara Danroi ordered Domai Fanche to remain abed for the safety of herself and her unborn. The date of the order is a full month before Prince Fanche's Decree. Domai Fanche would not, indeed, could not have traveled to Karami in her condition.

"Her Grace was under round-the-clock care, as the file indicates. She was monitored constantly for a solid four and a half months before giving birth. Hourly temperature checks, daily weight, and measurements. She was not allowed any outside visitors. Only essential household staff, medical staff, and closest companions -namely Heartsire Sir Anastacio Nokx, and personal assistant Dame Grizel Laux- were allowed access to Her Grace during this fragile time.

"This means, Your Honor, that neither Prince Fanche, nor the late Domai Lanton Anzo, whose signatures are on the plaintiff's Decree as witnesses, would have been able to secure Lady Fanche's signature on the date listed on the Plaintiff's Decree.

"We submit as well this copy of the filed original Decree naming Domai Fanche's offspring as her heir. If you will please take notice of the signatures, Your Honor."

The bailiff delivered the documents to Digory, and I waited while he examined them. He stared at them longer than he had to, and I wondered if he was reliving the night he completed that form and sealed it himself. He would have been a Journeyman Attorney then, as I was now, working towards gaining his own offices as an independent practitioner of the legal arts.

His signature along with Drucila as the mother, Ash as the father, and Griz as a witness were prominently affixed to the Certification of Live Birth. The attending physic and the head midwife signed it as well.

Finally, he looked back up at me and nodded. "Go on."

"Thank you, my Lord. We further submit that considering these documents, which I am certain Your Honor is familiar with, the case before this Council today must be dismissed with all prejudice. Prince Fanche is attempting to subvert the Law for personal gain.

"Grand Domai Fanche's Claim to the Seat of Hyki is clear and indisputable. Prince Fanche has no legitimate grounds to challenge the Claim and no evidence that Domai Fanche ever planned to Designate any heir but her own."

I bowed to Digory and the gathered Councilors and took my seat.

"Rebuttal, Master Sayer?"

Sayer was frowning at his tablet. I knew scans of the documents I presented should have been uploaded for him by now. It seems he was seeing them for the first time and was not pleased.

He shot to his feet and shrugged away Dyson's attempt to get his attention. "Your Honor, I withdraw my client's case at once. I offer my most humble apologies to the court."

Digory nodded and frowned at a furious Dyson.

"So noted, Master Sayer, and so ordered. This case is dismissed with every prejudice." Digory slammed his gavel with finality. "We are adjourned."