A/N: Hoped you all had a great summer, or are still having it :). So here's the new chap. The trial begins, but will everything go as planned? Thank you to all my readers and reviewers!

Chapter 19: Court of Angels

It was the first time since their arrival in this cold and shadowy prison that Georgiana was allowed to leave her chamber. Two guards, their faces hidden from her in the shadowy light and accompanied by an upset looking Clarice, were leading her through the labyrinth of corridors. No explanation had followed, no words exchanged, yet Georgiana knew that they were heading for the courtroom, or wherever that trial would take place.

Only their steps echoed between the massive stone walls of the complexion. Georgiana felt the delicate hairs on her arms rise as she thought about what awaited her.

It had just been the day before that Clarice had explained to her their current situation, when she had met her lover's wife for the first time. She and the witch had sat together for hours on the cold ground, still they had been unable to find a solution.

Georgiana stiffened when she sensed something grab her hand, and relaxed as soon as she realized it was the other woman's touch. Clarice studied her charge – for Georgiana was her charge now, or she would be lost entirely – before breaking the silence with her hurried whispers.

"Listen to me carefully from now on. You must not speak up , even if someone should speak about you with rudeness, only when you are directly addressed. But that is very unlikely. I don't know how much you know about the courts of your people, but this here will be different. You must be extremely careful not to displease them."

"Them?"

"The representatives of the oldest bloodlines will be attending, as well as the five high priests, the lords of my people. The court is led by seven judges – the Dreaghbar. They are the seven princes and rulers of our world. Their word is law and nobody dares to speak against them. It will be them who will decide your fate."

"The seven princes…are they demons as well?"

Clarice lowered her voice even more, making it harder for the girl to understand her. "In some way, yes. They are the heirs to the oldest bloodline. The sons of the Fallen Angel himself. Beware of them, Christendom has created many rumors about our Lord and his sons, and not all of them are lies."

"So the church was right about Hell and the devil?" During her whole life Georgiana had been raised in the Catholic faith. She remembered prayers and chants from the days her mother had been still alive, and she could recall those nights she had sat between Christine and Edmond, listening attentively to Adelaide's stories of beautiful angels and fallen empires. Until she had been taught to read by Cinàed, she had never known that people believed in anything else than the bible, or did not believe in religion at all. Still, it was one thing to grow up with the scriptures and an entirely different one to learn that it was true; at least up to some point.

Clarice opened her mouth to respond, but was silenced by the sight of a huge metal door, ancient symbols carved into the dark metal. She turned her head again towards the now pale girl beside her. All colour was drained from her cheeks, and her eyes widened in terrified anticipation.

"Clarice…"

"I will be at your side. I won't leave you alone in there."

This seemed to calm down the young woman, if only a little, and she bit down on her lower lip. The two guards positioned themselves beside the gate as it was opened to reveal a relatively small room with high ceilings. As one might have expected there were no windows, and no decoration adorned the bare marble walls. Along the walls ran wooden tribunes, their structure so massive and dark that they displayed a sharp contrast to the white marble of the walls. The tribunes build up a rectangle, closed by a long table of the same wood with seven seats, so large that they appeared like thrones. They were not the first to enter, as Georgiana almost immediately studied the people who would decide over her life.

What first came into her eyes was the fact that all wore long cloaks, the rest of their clothes beneath them appearing otherwise fairly normal and familiar, however made from rich fabrics in lush colours and adorned with brilliant jewels. Some of them wore wigs and if Georgiana had not known better, she would have thought herself to be at the court of the French king at Versailles, surrounded by courtiers, dukes, countesses and princes of the noblest blood. In some way she was, recalling what Clarice had told her only moments ago.

Only their blood red eyes revealed them to be something more than human.

But what really took her breath away, was the exquisite beauty that met her eyes. It was like dropping into a painting of some famous master, everywhere handsome faces, seemingly ageless and white like the stone surrounding them. She had Cinàed's still before her eyes, had met Natasha, so this race's beauty should not have been surprising to her, yet her eyes gleamed in careful admiration.

Clarice touched her elbow and shook Georgiana out of her study. Silently she lead her to a pedestal at one corner of the room, only an rectangular space of bare floor separating it from the long table at the front.

She could feel dozens of eyes following her across the room, cold and emotionless.

On the pedestal was only one seat, upon which Clarice indicated her to sit down. Georgiana allowed her eyes to wander again over the room. She could feel her insides tighten at the sight of Natasha, the beauty's lethal orbs fixed upon the girl that had been the cause of the shame that had befallen her family, befallen her.

She was seated between two men, one of which Georgiana recognized as Alexei Stravinsky, the general she had met at the ball that had changed her life, back in England such a long time ago. What was he doing here? Did he know of demons, of all this? Was that the reason why Cinàed had been so nervous to meet him at the ball? Because he was one of his kind? But why did she not remember his red eyes, a shade too dangerous striking to be ignored? She decided she would ask Clarice afterwards, when all this was over.

The doors were locked by two guards, making it impossible for anyone to leave the room before the court closed. Those who had been speaking moments ago in hushed tones, now became silent as another, much smaller door behind the judge's table opened.

One after the other, the seven princes, the lords of the underworld walked into the grave quiet, followed by everyone's gaze. No one dared move.

Despite them being brothers, they did not resemble each other in looks. One had skin as black as the night, while another one was deathly pale. One had flaming red hair, his neighbor black. Even their eyes had different shapes. One would think that, despite their immortality, the touch of time should be visible in their faces, but nothing could be further from the truth – their features were of the same unearthly beauty as all the others present. But while the lords and ladies were just beautiful, the Devil's heirs had inherited their father's dangerous spark. The power they carried was there for everybody to see.

Georgiana was unable to keep her eyes from staring.

From all the people in the room they looked the most inhuman.

As if sensing Georgiana's discomfort, Clarice bent down slightly. They both knew everyone could hear them, nevertheless the witch whispered as quiet as possible, mostly just breathing the words into the young woman's ear.

"Mammon, Asmodeus, Satan, Baal, Leviathan, Belphegor and Mephisto. Don't even think about addressing them in person. And quit staring now!" She hissed the last sentence.

As soon as they had taken their seats at the long table, the trial was officially opened. Surprisingly for Georgiana, the first one to speak was a man on her left, his voice agitated, in a language she could not understand. She recalled having heard it before, usually during Clarice and Cinàed's arguments.

It was in Draghin, a tongue older than mankind. By law no human, and be his inclinations or reasons still so good, was ever to learn it and discover this hidden world's secrets.

"I bid you welcome, your Majesties, as well as to you, my dear friends present today. We are assembled in these ancient halls, to decide upon a matter of utter disrespect for our culture and our people. A crime so severe that I dread to even utter its name – one of our mid proved carelessness of our laws, as old as history itself, and chose to bind himself to a woman of the Common Species.

"And additional to that. He decided to do so despite his marriage to a woman of pure blood, severing not only the bonds to a most loyal wife, but indeed to all of us."

The translation, murmured into her right ear by a stiffened Clarice, caused shivers to crawl down Georgiana's spine. To hear these words, to finally understand the severeness with which all these people saw and judged the matter, did not leave much space for hope., This would not be a one-hour-affair. She sank more into the comfortable steadiness of her seat.

After the man had finished his speech, not without directing a sharp glance towards the young woman who in his eyes was the main cause of such a dreadful sin, he seated himself down. Now another lord, his features as angular and sharp as an eagle's and with hair the colour of a moonless night, rose. Speaking in flawless French – for as Clarice told her then, in regards to her the trial would be held in her mother tongue – caused with only one sentence every single pair of eyes to fix upon another door, almost not recognizable against the stone, to the judges' left.

"Let in the prisoner!"

The moment the hidden passage opened Georgiana thought her heart would quit beating, for the person who was lead inside was no person at all.

Gasps and growls of protest swept across the room as a giant black wolf, its fur blood-crusted and dusty, made its way to the space in the centre of the room. His black eyes, burning intensely like two charcoals, ran over one face to the next. Despite trying carefully to appear unmoved, Georgiana could feel a pang inside her heart when they just left her out in their study.

It had been so long since she last saw him, had been so close to him. She wished, longed for his beautiful orbs to set upon her, just as he must have been feeling her gaze on him. Her body, in recognition to his own even from afar, craved for his touch, his smile, the sound for his voice. Her fingernails dug into the seat's armrests, keeping her in her place. Without something to grab unto she would have probably stood up and that would have served neither of them well.

Only slowly did the noise quiet down, some lords refusing even to sit down again. Uncertain of how to react, the young Frenchwoman looked up into her companions calculating features, but the witch remained silent.

"Please, Ladies and Gentlemen, do calm down." It was the second speaker, Lord Marcus Augustinus, once general of the Gallic legions under Julius Caesar's command, who convinced them to continue.

"My Lord Ó Mathúna, what is the meaning of this?" His deep voice vibrated with outrage. He indicated to the dark creature in front of him, as two guards positioned themselves ready to interfere should the wolf plan to escape or even attack. The air was filled with unspeakable tension. No one dared make a sound.

The next thing that happened was not only for Georgiana a terrible surprise. The atmosphere was ripped by a sharp white light, burning in the eyes like fire. It was of course not the first time she had encountered this before, but usually the light had lingered there for the tiniest of moments, before it gradually faded. Now it was like a lightning had run though the entire hall, a loud ripping sound accompanying it. Before anyone got the chance to even blink, the radiance had vanished completely, and instead of a huge black beast, a dark-haired, pale-faced young man stood facing the judges.

His raven locks framed his face wildly, falling partially before his eyes. He wore nothing but a loose shirt and a pair of black breeches, clutching to his body as if wet. Everywhere were stains in various shades of red and brown and part of his right sleeve was torn. His high cheekbones were drained of every colour, the sensually curved mouth glowing slightly bluish, and he had grown dark stubble. Altogether he created the most awful sight Georgiana had ever beheld.

Cinàed looked beaten and starved, and God only knew what had happened to him. It frightened her to see him like that.

Yet at that moment she realized just how much she had missed him. Beaten and dirty, he was the man she loved, nothing would ever be able to change that.

She watched his chest rise and fall, listened to his hard panting, the only sound in the room.

"This, my lords and ladies, is to what I was condemned to by your command!" His voice, the beautiful sound she had missed with her entire being, was calm and sound, if not a little rough. Masking his true feelings through sarcasm, he smiled while bowing at Lord Marcus.

"How dare you make fun of us by dishonoring this ceremony?"

"Dishonoring?" His eyes widened in false shock. "I would never think of dishonoring my dear friends." Again the crowd stirred by the sound of his mocking tone. Cinàed's arms were held away from his body as if to undermine his innocence in that respect.

After the men and women had quiet down again, the actual interrogation began. Georgiana sat on the edge of her seat all though the questioning. With every question that came, Cinàed would continue making remarks about everyone and everything present, would switch from mockery to deep hatred and back, and refusing to answer any of the queries. Some thought he was in some kind of delirium, as he would not stop degrading them. Others said he must have lost his mind. The guards could hold him back by grabbing his arms, but his mouth would not shut.

"Out with him!"

"He's a shame to us all!"

All shouts were interrupted by a loud clear voice, coming from the judges' table. A man with mahogany hair and Mediterranean looks had stood up. "The court shall meet again tomorrow. Until then it would be best if the convict would remind himself of the company he is in." As he said this his eyes fixed Georgiana with a penetrating gaze.

With this the judges left the room one after the other, and Cinàed was brought away through the hidden door.

Surprise was the only thing that held everybody still on their seats.