Chapter 29
“…You really are something.”
Luigi suddenly burst out laughing.
“Fine, you’re right. My life isn’t that cheap, after all.”
It was a laugh so hearty that his Adam’s apple bobbed visibly.
Asel sat with his fingers interlaced, his chin resting lightly on them, and silently watched me.
“Do you have a plan?” he asked. “The young lord of Luweize will likely testify against you. And the Second Prince—since it’s his life on the line—will resist with everything he has.”
Of course, he would.
“It’s all right,” I said calmly. “I don’t intend to run away over something like this…”
Living as Laura, this wasn’t my first crisis.
I’d faced countless similar turning points—and survived every one.
More importantly…
“If we made a contract, then I should fulfill my end of it, shouldn’t I?”
After all, I had promised to carry out my duties as the Crown Princess-to-be.
Asel stared at me blankly, as though struck speechless.
Luigi, wearing a similar expression, suddenly snapped toward Asel and barked,
“What—what did you just say?! A contract?!”
Asel flinched slightly, straightening his shoulders.
Their conversation was theirs to have.
As for me—
“That’s all I have to say. I’ll take my leave first.”
Only one day remained until the hearing.
And there was much to prepare.
By imperial law, the interrogation of an accused criminal was supposed to be conducted privately by an inspector.
But this time, the Second Prince himself had requested a public tribunal.
Since all the involved parties and witnesses were nobles, the Inspection Bureau made a rare exception—holding an open hearing instead.
Because the testimonies conflicted sharply, they decided that addressing the truth in a public forum would be most appropriate.
The hall wasn’t very large, yet it quickly filled to capacity—thanks, in no small part, to Laura’s infamous reputation.
The atmosphere should have been solemn, but in the audience seats, an uneasy blend of curiosity and malice filled the air.
Some had come simply because they despised Laura—wanting to witness the fall of the woman branded as a villainess.
But most were there to benefit from her downfall—hoping for scraps of opportunity once she fell from grace.
Above all, if Laura disappeared, the place beside Asel would finally be vacant.
The peak of imperial high society—the seat of the Crown Princess—was the most coveted position of all.
Among the many hungry eyes watching her downfall was Marienne.
She had arrived early, securing a perfect view of the witness stand.
She’d taken care to look pure and elegant—but still dressed to stand out more than Laura.
“Oh my, Princess Marienne, you came as well?”
A few nobles recognized her and greeted her warmly.
Marienne returned a delicate smile.
“I heard of an unfortunate scandal troubling the Empire,” she replied softly. “I was… concerned.”
She did not mention Laura’s wrongdoing. She needed to give the impression that she was uninvolved in the woman’s downfall.
Only then could she appear immaculate and untainted—a flawless candidate ready to take Laura’s place.
Before long, Prince Malken of Mortum entered the chamber.
Despite the rumors that he’d been interrogated in the dungeons, he looked surprisingly well.
Dressed in plain black, with healthy color in his face—only the redness in his eyes betrayed his tension.
Imperial guards led him to the defendant’s chair, a hard, unpadded wooden seat.
It was a harsh place for one of royal birth, yet Malken sat without protest, leaning back against it.
At that moment, a guard bent slightly beside him and murmured,
“When you leave, the back door will be open.”
Malken stared straight ahead, pretending not to hear.
But his fists, resting on his knees, were slick with cold sweat.
He had received an offer—just four days ago.
[If you succeed in bringing down Laura Luweize, we’ll ensure your escape.]
Someone—speaking through an imperial guard—had made him that promise.
If he were extradited back to Mortum, Malken would be executed for treason.
There was only one path left to survival: escape while still in the Empire.
He had no choice but to accept.
Partly out of hatred, too.
After all, if not for that woman—Laura—he would already be on the path to becoming the next King of Mortum.
“…Yes,” he began smoothly, “I won’t deny it any longer. I did covet the throne. That is an undeniable fact.”
To craft a convincing lie, one must mix in just enough truth.
“But I did not start out that way. I knew well that I lacked the qualities my elder brother possessed. It was that woman—she whispered to me, day after day. That if I sparked a civil war, she would supply the weapons. That I had a chance.”
Then, sharply, Malken turned to face Laura.
Through his bloodshot eyes gleamed a faint, unhinged light.
“Her motive was obvious. She wanted to profit from war—to play arms merchant, to turn the blood of Mortum’s people into gold coins!”
The inspector cut in.
“Your Highness, we’ve heard your claim. But the only proof so far concerns the Luweize family’s ships being used for smuggling. That alone isn’t sufficient to prove Lady Laura’s involvement.”
“I expected you’d say that.”
Malken nodded, perfectly composed.
“But think carefully—how did Lady Luweize arrest me that day? She said, and I quote, ‘I’ve discovered a vessel docked without an entry permit,’ did she not?”
Several people nodded—the phrase had indeed been witnessed by many.
Catching that fleeting ripple of agreement, Malken leaned forward and shouted,
“Isn’t it strange? Hundreds of ships enter and leave the Rowyn Port each day! How could she possibly inspect them all?”
Rowyn was the Empire’s busiest harbor—no coincidence that the Grand Duke had chosen it for illicit trade.
Murmurs rippled through the audience.
The room buzzed, whisper after whisper spreading like waves until the inspector’s repeated calls for silence finally restored order.
Malken raised his chin, savoring the unease.
“The answer is simple,” he said triumphantly. “Because Lady Luweize herself was one of the smugglers. She’d been in secret contact with me for months. But when she found herself cornered—unable to pay what she owed and fearing exposure by the Imperial Guard—she betrayed me first to save herself!”
The chamber fell utterly silent.
His argument… sounded plausible.
After all, Laura had used the knowledge she’d “awakened” with to uncover the smuggling.
In other words, she’d written down the correct answer without showing her work.
So when asked to explain how she knew, things became… complicated.
Luigi bit his lip hard.
The fists he’d hidden beneath his seat trembled faintly.
“That bastard…”
He was sickened by his nephew’s vile deceit—the gall to commit treason and then lie so shamelessly about it.
If this weren’t an official proceeding, Luigi would have stormed down and smacked him across the back.
Beside him sat Asel.
His expression was composed, but his unwavering gaze forward betrayed the tremendous restraint it took to remain silent.
Malken, treating the courtroom like his own stage, paused to wet his throat—then looked toward the witness stand.
“My claims are clear enough,” he said. “But since you ask for testimony, I’ll gladly call one. Lord Luweize!”
At that, Jepetto rose from his seat.
He shrugged once and stepped toward the stand.
“I swear, in the name of the Imperial Family, to speak only the truth.”
The appearance of the long-absent young lord—who had vanished for months from both society and rumor—caused an audible stir.
Every eye turned toward him.
Most gazes were sharp and malicious.
People whispered endlessly about why he’d been imprisoned in the palace dungeons—but most believed it was because of Laura.
Naturally, they all assumed his testimony would condemn her.
Malken swallowed dryly and urged him to speak.
The crowd leaned in, eager, some glancing at Laura to see how she would react.
Expectation and malice wove together into a tense silence.
Then Jepetto finally spoke.
“The vessel in question,” he said, “does indeed belong to my family.”
A collective gasp swept the room. Malken’s fists clenched in triumph—
But Jepetto continued, voice steady:
“However, my sister is not involved in this matter. She didn’t even know such a ship existed.”
The reaction turned uncertain—murmurs, confusion.
Because his next words betrayed all their expectations.
“That ship,” Jepetto declared, “was one I secretly sold off myself.”
