Flickering Tongues

I know she is guilty. At the very least, she is complicit. I will not, however, continue to chase her. I am an elected official; a magistrate of the people. I, however, hold no real imperium. What power I do have, I have exercised. I have investigated the facts, questioned the witnesses and interviewed the experts. As she is only a manumitted woman, hearsay and speculation would be more than enough to keep her bound and on her knees, but I do not choose to mete out justice in that manner.
It is my hope that after the informal hearing held in the Great Square, the woman Noemi will understand she is closely scrutinized by more than a low-level magistrate. A public proceeding will all but guarantee the gossip. If she is able to dupe people into her repellent little game, it will be difficult for people to say they weren't forewarned. Did they not see her on her knees, answering charges? While it is simple enough to say that she was acquitted, the truth of the matter is she has been released into the people's recognizance. I cannot imagine the thinking of the fool that manumitted the bred girl Imp of House Erongi, but it is my sincere hope she finds her true master. She is overdue a beating.
Indirectly related to the informal hearing, I was paid a visit last evening by Miss Vinquient, a fellow proprietor of the Anbar. She owes me a favor. She spoke of a resistance, civil unrest in the streets. She suggested I might be a target, something to be made an example of. The Resistance is not unknown to me. I am a firm believer in dissent, in questioning authority and, above all, accountability. I am not amongst their numbers, however, in any official capacity. In the days of the Brigade, there were those that carried things too far. Undue crime was committed in the name of revolution, the malcontent element using civil unrest as an excuse for violence against their neighbors.
I am not naive. Some may suspect my motives in accepting the position of elected official. Some may even deride me for my modest ascension, due the sweat from a stable of whores and the notoreity gained from the stage of noble Tallux. At the risk of sounding sanctimonious, I am the same Poet from Aulus Street that I always was. The benefit of hindsight is the only real change. When the mulatto child of the oft-missed Kreeandra asked where my allegiances lie, it was difficult not take offense.
"With the People," I told her.