82. Evidence

If things had gone wrong, there would surely have been a commotion inside. This meant that Deon had refused.

Did he think facing death was better than fleeing?

He was hesitant to escape with me.

It was miserable. Had my meddling been unnecessary? Should I have kept my mouth shut and protected his honor quietly?

But… if the trial proceeded as it was, it would be a losing game. And the end would not be good.

“We will return.”

The man said, his eyes darting around despite his large frame. He was worried that if daybreak came, his identity would be revealed.

“No.”

I shook my head firmly.

“Then what do you plan to do? Go and check?”

He asked. There was no more time to waste.

I nodded.

Deon’s case was a public trial. Rare for a noble, it was open for anyone to see. Azanti, boasting about having found a weakness, seemed determined to bring Deon down. To show all the nobles Deon’s fall. And to solidify his own position.

If I got swept up in the crowd, I might be able to catch a glimpse of his face from afar.

It was fortunate I had bought a large hooded robe. It could cover my hair if I wore it over my head.

I tied my hair tightly with a hairband, pulled on the hood to hide my face, and secured the strings.

“Wait here,” I told him.

“I might not wait,” he replied.

“No, please wait,” I insisted.

If an opportunity arose in the courtroom to get him out, I would take it. I clenched my fists tightly, determined not to lose focus. My sharp nails dug into my palms.

The flag was raised high and stopped at the top. The red curtain fluttered in the wind.

* * *

I covered my head and pushed my way through the crowd. The courtroom, wide and opulent, was excessively extravagant for a place where lives were at stake.

So this is what a noble trial is like, I thought. Even the doors were gilded. Most who crossed this threshold would either die or be sent on a path to death.

I squeezed myself into the archway.

There were fewer people than I expected, perhaps because the trial had been moved up. That allowed me to see his face at a glance. Through the heads of the nobles, I could see him standing at the podium.

It seemed the treatment in prison wasn’t too bad, as he didn’t look emaciated or haggard.

Even in front of the court, he stood with his back straight. Wearing just a thin shirt, he exuded a noble air. As he wished, he maintained his dignity as a prince even in such moments. Just by standing there, he was unmistakably the highest-ranking noble in the hall.

“Excuse me, pardon me.”

I pushed through the people in front of me and stood on tiptoe to get a better look at him.

With a clear view, he appeared even more distinct.

His hands were tied with rope. The knot looked so loose that he could break free with a single effort, but he let himself be bound. He had no intention of escaping. He seemed resigned to accept his death.

I clenched my fists and bit my lip. Cold sweat soaked my tightly clenched hands.

Soon, Prince Azanti appeared beside him.

His face was unchanged from a few days ago. He still had that unprincely swagger.

His light blonde hair swayed as he tilted his head. He tried to appear dignified, but the corners of his mouth kept lifting uncontrollably. It was a smile only those confident of victory could make.

“Prince Azanti, may I ask why the trial was moved up?” asked the judge, adjusting his crooked hat.

It was too early for the trial to proceed. Everyone, from the trial officials to the audience, looked tired.

“It’s hard to tolerate seeing a ruthless person setting foot in the capital, even for a moment. Please understand. For the honor of the royal family and the stability of the capital, isn’t it better to remove the criminal from the city as soon as possible?”

At this, the judge asked curiously.

“Isn’t the purpose of today’s session to bring charges?”

Azanti grinned.

“The reason I pleaded for this trial is to accuse Prince Deon of his vile actions. And… I recommend stripping him of his title and permanently banishing him from the capital.”

The audience erupted in murmurs.

The commotion was palpable even to me, standing at the back.

Azanti, looking around the room with satisfaction, spoke quietly to Deon.

“Deon, if you step down from your position as a prince and withdraw voluntarily, I will remain silent about this matter. I’ll give you a chance to maintain your dignity.”

Deon raised an eyebrow silently at those words. He didn’t seem to intend to deny or refute Azanti’s actions.

“Is that all your defense? You’re even rejecting your last chance. I suppose you can’t open your mouth.”

Azanti sneered. Despite the mockery, Deon’s face remained expressionless.

Annoyed by Deon’s composure, Azanti frowned.

“Is there a legitimate reason to discuss stripping him of his title and banishment?” asked the judge in the black hat.

Azanti shrugged.

“There are plenty of reasons. I heard about Prince Deon’s actions from a reliable witness.”

The judge glanced around the courtroom and asked again, “Where is the witness? Can we call them to testify now?”

“They can’t testify. Their tongue was cut off.”

The audience in the courtroom began to murmur again. The judge, watching the increasingly noisy scene, banged his gavel on the desk.

My heart pounded.

Though he didn’t specify, it was clear. The witness was the maid with the short hair.

So it was Azanti who had cut off the former maid’s tongue. He had made her reveal the existence of the blood pouch.

Once again, he hadn’t dirtied his own hands, having someone else cut her tongue off.

How much had he learned? They said the spell would activate if certain forbidden words were spoken. I didn’t know exactly which words were off-limits.

“The testimony can only be given in writing. We have already obtained the testimony regarding Prince Deon, written in her own hand.”

Azanti handed over the evidence to the judge. Wiping his sweat, the judge read through the documents and responded.

“It’s questionable whether written testimony can be considered valid if the witness cannot speak…”

The judge glanced at Deon, who continued to stare ahead with a bored expression, as if this trial was incredibly tedious.

“But the fact that there’s a spell cutting out the tongue when certain truths or words are spoken—that itself is undeniable evidence, isn’t it? Why else would such a spell be placed if there was nothing to hide?”

Prince Azanti’s words echoed through the hall, skillfully swaying the room.

As people began to nod in agreement, Deon finally let out a derisive laugh and retorted.

“Azanti, didn’t you cut it off yourself? Maybe you preemptively silenced the witness to prevent them from misspeaking. Written testimony can be easily manipulated under duress.”

“Do you think I resort to such vile tricks as you do?”

“Please, maintain decorum. This is a sacred courtroom,” the judge interjected as the two princes growled at each other. He raised his gavel again, but hesitated to strike it down, placing it back on the table instead.

The tension in the courtroom was not merely a quarrel between two princes but a battle for the throne. This trial could potentially determine the next crown prince.

Everyone held their breath carefully. Though no swords were drawn, the courtroom was chilling. Every word felt like a razor-sharp blade.

“So, what is the accusation you wish to make?” The judge cleared his throat and took a sip of water, his hand trembling.

Watching him, my own hands began to tremble slightly. I held my breath, waiting for what would be said next.

Azanti scanned the courtroom. His demeanor was like that of an actor in a play, confident that he would have the final word.

He glanced at Deon, gave a small laugh, and answered the judge’s question.

“The nobles of the capital believed that while Prince Deon was demoted to Duke and exiled to the North, he was quietly reflecting there… but the reality was quite different.”

“And what was different…?”

“He was amassing power to strike back at the royal family.”

“Amassing power?”

“He referred to it as ‘herbs’ to outsiders, but…”

I closed my eyes. In the end, I had become his weakness and his disgrace.

“How exactly was he amassing power?”

“He was secretly procuring herbs in the North. Because of these herbs, we won the wars fought until now.”

“Please, explain in more detail.”

No.

My legs were shaking uncontrollably. I couldn’t hold out much longer.

I felt as if his slow, sweeping gaze through the crowd was directed at me. My lips were parched.

Even now, should I grab Deon’s hand and run?

It was a reckless plan, but there was no suitable way to rescue him from this predicament.

“What are these herbs?”

The judge pressed, and a glint appeared in Azanti’s eyes. He opened his mouth to reveal what he had kept hidden for so long.