Surviving A Novel I Don't Remember: A Tutor's Guide To Staying Alive Chapter 200: I submit

(Hooray to for reaching Chapter 200 in such a short ti, haha. It feels like yesterday since I reached Chapter 100. Nevertheless, we’re going stronger with the plot, so don’t stop here now, my dear readers. I hope you enjoy it even more and reach Chapter 300 with .)

"The High Court is in session. Prisoner Julian Von Astrea is to be moved imdiately."

Alaric stood up then, his massive fra shielding Julian as he helped him to his feet.

Julian’s legs were still sowhat stiff, but the warmth of the broth and the silver hum of the Elixir of the Silent Liar in his veins gave him a strength that defied his fragile appearance.

"He shall walk on his own feet," Alaric growled, his hand never leaving Julian’s arm. "And my n will flank the transport. If any of you so much as reach for him, you shall lose the hand." He narrowed his eyes into dark and cold slits. "It is not a bluff."

The guards hesitated, glancing at one another, but they knew better than to challenge the Duke of the North in such a confined space.

They stood aside, allowing Alaric to lead Julian out of the cellar and into the cold morning air.

The dampness that Julian had felt evaporated with the rays of the morning sun. It was warm.

The transport was a black, iron-reinforced carriage—less of a vehicle and more of a mobile cage.

But true to Alaric’s word, Sir Kaelen and twenty Northern knights on horseback surrounded it, their dark cloaks a stark contrast to the gold of the palace guards.

"I am here," Alarci assured Julian even as he was led into the cage, and Julian nodded, his eyes soft with appreciation.

If it wasn’t for Alaric, he did not know how he would face this situation alone.

Standing in the center of criticism, with eyes that only see his wrongs, and fingers that only point his stains... the pressure would’ve been too much.

He sat at the center, his hands bowed again, and he closed his eyes.

He was ready to face the trial.

The journey to the Courthouse was short, but the atmosphere was thick with the scent of an impending storm.

Yes, a storm was coming. And it was one that would shake everyone to the bones.

...

The courthouse was a grand, circular amphitheater of white marble and cold, unyielding stone. Yes, the sa courthouse Julian had to stand as a witness for Alaric when his father and the Emperor plotted against him.

This ti, he was standing there as a criminal and an accused.

As Julian was led inside, the whispers of the gathered nobility hit him like a physical wave. The room was packed; every high-ranking official and aristocrat who had witnessed the ballroom incident was there, their faces filled with curiosity and fear.

Julian was placed in the ’Speaker’s Chair’ at the center of the pit—a cold, stone seat that forced him to look up at the tiered rows of his judges.

High above, behind a shimring veil of white silk on the Imperial Dais, sat a silent, brooding shadow. Aurelian. He was perfectly still, his presence looming over the proceedings like a predator waiting for the right mont to strike.

Two Healers from the Royal Sanctum approached Julian.

(Let us rember that the healers from the Royal Sanctum are similar to mages with healing abilities)

They wore bone-white robes and carried a velvet-lined case. When they opened it, a single crystal vial filled with a shimring, violet liquid sat nestled in the silk.

"The Truth of the Sanctum," the High Healer announced from the bench. "Julian Von Astrea, you are charged with high treason, regicide, and the theft of royal relics. Your cris are as clear as the morning sky. But there is sothing that causes the Emperor, our sun, to convict otherwise." Julian’s eyes slightly narrowed. "He demands the truth of the matter, and you shall provide this truth. Do you submit to the light of the serum?"

Julian looked up, his mismatched eyes catching the light. He could feel Alaric standing just a few feet behind him, a silent, lethal protector that was ready to strike at any second. He could feel the Elixir waiting in his blood, ready to turn his lies into the very truth. And he could feel the weight of every eye on him.

He drew in a silent breath and finally answered.

"I submit," Julian’s voice rang out, clear and resonant, devoid of the tremor he should have felt.

The healers moved carefully. One held his arm while the other pressed a silver needle into his vein, in order to inject the serum and let it flow through his veins.

As the violet liquid entered his system, a cold, heavy sensation began to spread through his body. Ordinarily, this was the mont the mind shattered, the mont the soul was stripped bare and forced to vomit every hidden secret.

But as the serum hit his heart, the Elixir of the Silent Liar surged to et it.

The violet haze in his mind was instantly coated in a shimring, silver film. To the mage healers monitoring his pulse, his soul would look like an open book. From now on, they would only see what Julian chose to show them.

"The serum has taken hold," the Healer whispered, stepping back.

The High Healer leaned forward, his eyes boring into Julian’s.

"Julian Von Astrea," he began, his voice booming through the hall. "Speak to the Sun. Tell us... did you, with your own will and intent, plot with the murderer Seraphina to spill the blood of the Empress and take the life of your Sovereign?"

Julian felt the pull of the serum, a demand for honesty that felt like a hook in his throat. He leaned into the power since, about the assassination, he knew he was not guilty.

His expression softened into one of tragic, weary sorrow as he answered.

"No," Julian said, and the word echoed with a terrifying, absolute purity. "I have never plotted against the Sun. I have never wished for the blood of the Empress. And I have never had any interactions with the princess either."

The hall erupted in a flurry of hushed, shocked gasps. The Healers looked at their monitoring stones—the gems remained a steady, calm blue.

True.

Across the room, behind the veil, the silhouette of the Emperor shifted. Aurelian leaned forward, his hand gripping the armrest of his throne so hard the wood groaned.

He knew the man in the ballroom had been different, but to hear the ’Truth’ confird so clearly... it was a direct challenge to his sanity.

"Then explain the ballroom!" the healer demanded, his voice rising in frustration. "Explain the ’Star’ who held a blade to the Emperor’s throat and spoke of secrets only you would know!"

Julian lifted his head. So, it seems the Emperor had a talk with the healers and told them that so of the things the ’other’ Julian exposed were things only Julian and he knew.

If this were the case, then...

A single, perfect tear rolled down Julian’s cheek to perfect his performance.

"It seems that, not just last night, but for other nights as I slept, I... was a prisoner in my own skin," Julian whispered, his voice blooming with grief. "I never knew... I was not aware that soone had taken hold of my body to commit sins in the palace until last night." He lowered his head, his shoulders shaking. "I am also a victim of an unknown force’s wicked sche."