His thumb remained suspended half an inch from the parchment.
The heat streaming from the crimson blood-ink prickled against Lin Ke’s skin, sharp as nettles. Court guard Chen’s axe-spear point dipped forward an inch. The cold iron tip shone under the animal fat lamp.
“Press it,” Chen growled. “Don’t test my patience.”
“I’m executing my lawful right under Sect Covenant Charter Seventeen,” Lin Ke said without moving his hand. “Subsection Four: The Right to Administrative Counsel.”
The court guard frowned, his thick brow bunching up. “You’re a debt-bound apprentice under a royal patent audit. You have no rights to counsel.”
“Under normal country law, correct,” Lin Ke replied evenly. “Under Royal Hazardous Environment Regulation Twelve, however, any student actively contaminated by heavy-duty pyritic exhaust must have their legal covenants approved by an accredited sect logistics elder. Otherwise, the contract is void for lack of energetic capacity.”
Before Chen could answer, the heavy oak doors of the interrogation hall swung open.
Elder Wu DeZheng stumbled into the room. He gasped for breath, his ritual outer robes half-tangled around his knees. He looked like a man who had sprinted through three miles of mountain briars, his pale face slick with grease and his fingers clutching a stack of blue-bordered slips against his ribs.
