On the overhead beam, an ornate glass chandelier refracted candlelight and lamplight, casting a faint glow upon the brownish mahogany judgnt table. Under the warm radiance, apart from the rhythmic ticking of the pendulum, the only sound in this classical courtroom was a clear, lodious female voice.
Noticing everyone’s eyes fixed upon her, Amalia felt no discomfort. Quite the opposite, she found her words especially crisp, her unusual thoughts lucid. She even had to deliberately feign the deanor of a timid, tongue-tied girl to conceal her true composure.
Under everyone’s gaze, she parted her lips and spoke calmly.
"In summary, Viscount Rostlin is highly suspect of criminal activity."
If the evidence of falsified tax records was solid and irrefutable, the judge would have already delivered a verdict. Unfortunately, Lucas lacks both the capability and the audacity to gather further concrete evidence, such as Rostlin’s financial records or the precise whereabouts of the rice harvest.
In this situation, they could only rely on the jury’s opinion to sway the judgnt.
"So what?" After a brief mont of shock, Rostlin regained his composed, indifferent expression and spoke coldly.
"Without evidence, are you going to convict based on re rumors?"
As long as he clung to this point, no one could judge him, not unless the Emperor himself arrived.
Amalia gazed at Rostlin. Her wine-red eyes fluttered gently. Behind her, Astrid closed her eyes. Her two legs, clad in fine black stockings, pressed against Amalia’s calves, as if offering her silent support. A faint smile tugged at her lips.
"Viscount Rostlin, there’s no need to be agitated. I’m rely stating the facts."
"If I’ve touched a nerve, please disregard it."
Undoubtedly, under current circumstances, Amalia had no ans to directly convict him.
But that wasn’t her original purpose here.
Clutching her sister’s hand, breathing in the reassuring scent, with warmth at her back capable of lting her very being, Amalia, seated upon Astrid’s lap, felt as though she were perched upon a throne.
"The Imperial Court exists to maintain justice under imperial rule, and paying tribute to the Emperor is every noble’s duty and honor."
"Even under mounting suspicion, Viscount Rostlin continues to show no sincerity toward the imperial family. He persistently conceals the flow of his funds, repeatedly evading requests even when approached by the princes, deflecting questions and avoiding direct answers."
In modern society, the burden of proof lies with the accuser. But in this old world dominated by nobles, even the courtroom was rely a symbolic tool for maintaining rule. What Amalia sought wasn’t to force Rostlin into confession, but to seize his missteps and further deepen the suspicions against him in the eyes of the jury mbers.
With just a few words, Rostlin’s suspicion successfully expanded. Yet Amalia’ offensive did not slow down. Pretending timidity, she glanced back to Astrid. The latter opened her eyes and gave her an assuring look. The hand Amalia was gripping lightly scratched the palm.
To the other nobles, this was undoubtedly another command from Astrid to Amalia.
"Given so many unexplainable inconsistencies, although we cannot directly conclude that Viscount Rostlin is guilty, a post-trial investigation into his assets is unavoidable."
She first offered Lucas a way out, softening the embarrassnt of his earlier disadvantageously, while simultaneously giving advice, allowing the crown prince more ti to gather intelligence.
"Miss Livia makes a valid point." Lucas nodded approvingly.
Since he couldn’t achieve his desired verdict in this trial, postponing it and re-evaluating later was also a good option.
As long as Alistair was forced to reveal his underlying exhaustion and Rostlin failed to smoothly escape the tax evasion case, his strategic objective will be fulfilled.
"..."
No conviction, but mandatory cooperation with the investigation. Even if nothing substantial was revealed, Rostlin’s reputation would already be severely damaged.
Cunning words indeed... This was exactly the sort of tactic that Princess Astrid, master of public opinion, would employ...
Rostlin glanced at Astrid, then raised his eyes toward the Second Prince Alistair nearby. Just as he was about to focus on finding a way out, that female voice, grating to his ears, once again echoed through the courtroom.
"Moreover, there’s another point that is truly astonishing."
Amalia lowered her voice, relaxing her back against Astrid’s chest.
"Judging by the annual rice yields, each viscount whose territory borders Rostlin’s produces two to three tenths more than his. That translates into a significant sum."
"He clearly holds the most fertile land, enjoys favorable weather, and has suffered no natural disasters or human calamities, yet his output is severely lacking. Is it that the farrs on that land aren’t working hard enough, or is it that Viscount Rostlin..."
"...simply incompetent?"
Being branded as incompetent in front of everyone was a trendous humiliation for any imperial noble, let alone Rostlin, whose reputation was already questionable.
Upon hearing this, Rostlin’s fingers instantly clenched. He finally looked Amalia directly in the eyes.
How dare a commoner picked up by the princess speak to him like this?
A surge of intense hatred flashed through his mind, yet Rostlin dared not vent his emotions openly. He understood it wasn’t Livia who dared speak thus, but the Astrid behind her.
The Emperor’s favorite third princess, she truly had the right to act so brazenly before the crowd. And most crucially, this white-stockinged girl’s words had truly placed Rostlin in a no-win situation.
The paper data lay before everyone. Either he admitted the land’s yield was normal and he had pocketed the taxes, or he bowed his head and accepted the label of incompetence.
"This is a courtroom. If you want to discuss trivial matters, perhaps wait until after the trial."
Realizing that if he didn’t speak up, Viscount Rostlin would beco the laughingstock of countless nobles, Alistair quickly intervened.
Hearing this, Amalia gently swayed white-stockinged snow-white legs and replied in a gentle voice.
"Prince Alistair speaks wisely."
"Please forgive my boldness, but the series of data just presented by the judge is truly too eye-catching."
"Not just for one year, this pattern has persisted for several consecutive years. It’s as if Viscount Rostlin’s territory is under so sort of curse, suppressing agricultural developnt."
"Even coincidence can’t explain this."
An apparently insignificant remark now beca the sharpest thorn, completely destroying the entire trial. Many nobles cast disdainful glances toward Viscount Rostlin. The brilliant sunlight fell upon the man’s body, each warm spot feeling like it was scorching his skin.
Sensing the surrounding gazes, Amalia fell silent, pressed her legs together, and obediently curled up in her sister’s embrace.
Astrid had told her the purpose of this trial was to give both sides a chance to flex their power. Whether Viscount Rostlin was ultimately convicted was therefore not so important.
As long as Alistair’s supporters were put at a disadvantage and lost face, the Crown Prince faction’s goal was achieved.
The rest of the closing procedures could be left to Lucas.
"I didn’t expect Miss Livia to possess such clear and insightful perspectives."
The Crown Prince promptly took over the conversation, a hint of satisfaction flickering in his eyes.
"Since the discussion has returned to the trial, clearly one day isn’t enough to investigate and gather evidence regarding the nurous suspicions surrounding Viscount Rostlin."
"My suggestion is to suspend the trial for now, requiring Viscount Rostlin to remain in Poste City for a while longer to cooperate with the court’s investigators."
"Given the imperial dignity involved, this matter must not be handled carelessly."
As he spoke these words, Lucas deliberately raised his head and stared at Alistair, his green eyes tinged with mockery.
Invoking the Emperor and imperial dignity, even if the Second Prince wishes to argue further, he’d have to consider whether his status allows him to defend soone.
You’re a prince. Will the Emperor view you favorably if you harm imperial interests for a re noble? What would other imperial mbers think?
"Judge, what is your opinion?"
Since the Crown Prince had opened the discussion and there were no further objections in the hall, the judge pondered briefly and signaled the attendants to remove the evidence.
"I have no objections."
Faced with such a hot potato, he didn’t want to rush a judgnt either.
"Ladies and gentlen, voting on the suspension of the trial will now begin."
"I will take every vote into consideration."
.............
As the judge’s gavel fell, today’s trial temporarily concluded. Jurors began to leave one by one. Lucas, having won a small victory, didn’t depart imdiately. Instead, he exchanged a few words with Astrid before exiting the hall.
In court, his dear sister had played a pivotal role, reversing the situation with just a few words and successfully humiliating Alistair.
Now, it was ti to press his advantage.
Watching Lucas’s figure gradually disappear amid a crowd of followers, Amalia reluctantly left Astrid’s embrace. Her two snow-white, delicate white-stockinged feet stepped firmly into small leather shoes. Seeing this, Astrid loosened her arms around the girl’s slender waist and adjusted her skirt hoop.
Amalia’s performance today had indeed exceeded Astrid’s expectations.
First, sitting on her lap and utilizing the Third Princess as a backdrop, she made everyone mistakenly believe every word Amalia spoke was the imperial princess’s instruction, thereby avoiding too stark a contrast between personas and preventing the exposure of her identity as the Fourth Princess.
Then, her composure and calmness during impromptu remarks. Unlike Lyra, a naive girl who would feel nervous and uneasy during her first appearance, Amalia could fully adapt to presenting under the gaze of a crowd, showing no fear while delivering clear, logical, and flawless statents.
Was this the blonde tyrant’s innate talent, or the effect of prolonged training? Astrid speculated it was probably more of the forr.
Amalia seed to possess a natural for sitting in that position, she just hadn’t had the chance to reveal it before.
"Livia did wonderfully today. You rembered everything I taught you."
So nobles who hadn’t yet left the hall weren’t surprised by this remark. Instead, they felt, "As expected."
"It’s because my sister taught so well."
Amalia sweetly replied. Her crimson eyes never leave the beautiful face before her.
What Astrid referred to, of course, was their earlier discussion, that Amalia needed to appropriately display herself before the Emperor. Although she inwardly resented this thod of gaining approval, she also understood that temporary endurance was for a clearer future.
She could suppress her inner feelings for her sister, and endure her hatred for Valeria. Both the Crown Prince and Second Prince had participated in this hearing; there was no way Hibbort wouldn’t have planted spies.
For Amalia, this was a perfect opportunity, to appear as a puppet in her sister’s hands, allowing those who knew her identity to gain insight, while keeping the ignorant nobles in the dark.
Smiling, Astrid gently ruffled Amalia’s hair and stood up, greeting the Finance Minister seated in the front row.
"Lord Florence, today’s hearing, you seed unusually silent."
Upon hearing Astrid speak, Florence nodded and replied gently.
"The debates from all sides were quite impressive. There was no need for to forcibly interject."
With that, he walked to the judgnt seat and retrieved the recording crystal placed aside the silver scale.
Astrid gazed at the transparent magic crystal ball, shimring with tiny flickering lights, and faintly smiled.
"Is this ant for Father to review?"
"The Emperor said, although he’s currently unable to attend in person, he still wishes to personally handle all major and minor affairs."
"I see."
After exchanging a few polite words with Florence, and seeing Viscount Rostlin being led away by attendants, the hall grew significantly emptier. Astrid said no more, simply taking Amalia’s hand.
"When you see Father, please deliver my regards."
"Regardless, please attend to his health and avoid overexertion."
Florence nodded slightly and calmly replied.
"Her Highness Astrid’s concern will surely bring great comfort to His Majesty."
Watching Astrid leave the hall, Florence channeled ntal energy into the crystal ball. After confirming the retroactive barrier recording was accurate, he received the magic crystal from an attendant and made a duplicate recording.
An hour later, at the Emperor’s chambers, the maids and servants who normally took care of Hibbort’s daily life were greatly reduced. The stair corridors were filled with guards patrolling back and forth.
Florence passed through layers of security and arrived at Hibbort’s room, handing the recorded magic crystal to the Emperor’s personal guard, Trin.
"Princess Astrid said she hopes His Majesty pays attention to his health and avoids overexertion."
Trin nodded in understanding, took the magic crystal without a word, and knocked on the door.
Inside the bedroom, the blond man lying on the bed had a pale complexion. His green eyes quietly stared at a family portrait in the distance. The powerful aura that once shadowed him now seed incredibly frail.
"Leave."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The magic crystal shimred. A smooth blue light rippled through the air, then projected a translucent magical screen.
Within the semi-transparent screen, Hibbort saw the two clearly divided factions of the jury, and he also saw the dark-haired, red-eyed figure seated upon the lap of his beloved daughter.
She raised her hand as everyone fell silent.
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