Take her to the Hall of Judgment. Let the Moon Goddess decide.

Calla's POV

I woke to iron boots on stone.

The cell door crashed open. Cold air flooded in, carrying snow. Ella stood in the doorway, her white cloak immaculate, not a strand of gold hair out of place.

"I thought the rite wasn't until noon," I said.

No one answered.

The guards stormed ...

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