Chapter 34
I let out a hollow laugh. Even if others happened to glimpse his tattoo, they would just think he was some eccentric with excessive piety and pay it no mind.
The only reason I took it so seriously was because I had spent no small amount of time being raised and trained as a candidate for sainthood.
A sorcery array? Nonsense. Rihardt, who grew up in the temple, would never dabble in something like that.
And yet, when I returned to my cell and lay down on the bed, I couldn’t help but be swept away by the disjointed flood of information and wild speculations in my head.
Everything I had ever known became utterly confusing. Inside me, two voices kept arguing back and forth.
“Rihardt was a holy knight raised in the temple.”
“But what if he, like me, committed some grave offense and was expelled from the temple?”
“With such an upright character, that’s impossible. He’s nothing like me, a fake saint. Or… could he be a witch?”
“Witches are women. All the ones ever caught and executed were women. I’ve never once heard of a male witch.”
“Really? Are you certain only women can be witches?”
“And if that was a sorcery array? What if he inscribed it on his body because he had some spell that absolutely had to be invoked?”
I squeezed my eyes shut. Whatever secret Rihardt was hiding, it had nothing to do with our escape. It could just as easily be meaningless—something he carved for no real reason at all.
If he ever found out I doubted him instead of trusting him, Rihardt would surely be heartbroken.
Yes, this was just my imagination running wild. I had always been prone to strange thoughts that led me down the wrong path.
I decided to forget what I saw today. On Rihardt’s body, there was no mark, no inscription at all.
With that decision made, I closed my eyes, and sleep quickly overtook me.
“The day Lord Georg died was the same day the convoy returned to Fortress Prison. That morning, I was watching out my window as the warden mounted his horse and left. Others went out to see him off, but… I found it a little awkward to face him, so I stayed behind.”
“Was there anyone who can testify that you were in your room at that time?”
“No, I was alone.”
The lawyer gave a small shake of his head and scribbled something down on his paper.
“Your lack of an alibi is the primary reason you became the most likely suspect. When was the first time you saw Lord Georg that day?”
“I only saw him after I heard the Lady’s scream. By the time I entered the room, he was already…”
“Dead, in other words.”
“Yes.”
The lawyer kept writing, his pen scratching steadily across the page.
When I ran to Georg’s chambers, several people had already seen his body. The very first to find him was probably one of his servants.
He hadn’t joined the send-off either, but no one thought it strange. After all, no one expected the lord’s son to attend such things. They probably just assumed he was sleeping in.
Even if I had said Georg kept me detained as he often did, no one would have found it strange. But that day, Georg hadn’t summoned me, and I had been enjoying a rare, leisurely morning. That, in hindsight, was the beginning of disaster.
If I had known he would be found dead, I might have gone out myself to watch the send-off.
Anyway, by the time I rushed in after the scream, the Lady of the manor was already sobbing over her fallen son.
The Lord stood stunned, gazing down at his son with grief in his eyes. For some reason, Georg was sprawled on the floor.
There was no blood, no stab wounds, no cuts. His body bore no external injuries—he looked almost as if he had simply fallen asleep.
But his breath had stopped, rigor mortis was setting in, and his body was cooling rapidly.
It was determined he had died just hours earlier—during the exact time the convoy left and I, with no one to confirm my whereabouts, had been alone.
The moment the Lady saw me, she wailed. She grabbed my collar and shook me, screaming for me to bring her son back.
“Bring him back this instant! You’re supposed to be a saint, aren’t you? Then perform a miracle and revive him! You owe us for all the food and clothing we’ve given you!”
“……”
For a moment, I was speechless. She truly believed that if I were a saint, I should be able to raise the dead. But I wasn’t a true saint at all.
Even if a genuine saint had been standing there, they couldn’t have brought someone back from the dead.
The Lady’s furious strength flung me down beside Georg’s body. My own body trembled in revolt.
Even the Lord turned a harsh glare on me. At that moment, the only thing I could do that resembled a saint was recite a prayer.
“P-please, everyone calm down. Just for a moment, please calm yourselves…”
“My only heir is dead, and you want me to calm down? How will you take responsibility for this?”
The Lord roared.
Why was his death suddenly my fault? Why should I take responsibility?
But how could I argue logic with grieving parents? I picked up a discarded scripture and flipped it open, trying to find some suitable prayer to recite.
“For Lord Georg’s soul to find peace, you must all calm yourselves. We must pray together for his eternal rest. Please allow me to read the prayer in silence.”
But strangely, the Lord’s eyes only grew fiercer. His jaw clenched as if grinding his teeth.
“How dare you, of all people, claim to pray for my son?”
The Lady struck at me, and the scripture slipped from my hands onto the floor.
I didn’t even have time to understand why—because that was when the guards burst in.
They stormed in as though rushing to apprehend a dangerous criminal. At their head stood none other than Kyle Casenis. From then on, as you know, I was branded a witch.
“That woman is a witch,” he had declared, hadn’t he?
The gall of him. He killed Georg, and then pinned the crime on me? And even dared demand my sincere love? Looking back now, he was truly cruel.
The lawyer, who had been underlining passages in his notes, finally lifted his head with measured words.
“Your testimony has many weaknesses. However, in this trial, there is a chance it may be accepted as truth. A crucial new piece of evidence has been uncovered in the reinvestigation. Thanks to it, you may avoid the death penalty.”
“What? Really?”
My eyes widened in disbelief. Even without the real culprit revealed, I could avoid execution? My body tensed with urgency, leaning over the desk.
“Please, tell me. What was discovered?”
“The coroner’s report found no external injuries, but this time, previously missed internal damage was detected. That was the direct cause of death. Lord Georg’s neck had been twisted—he was killed by strangulation.”
So it was murder after all…
“Based on your height and weight, even if he was frail, it would have been nearly impossible for you to twist the neck of an adult man like Lord Georg. And since physical evidence exists, the claim that a witch cursed him without leaving a trace no longer holds water.”
“Then that means…”
“Congratulations. You are no longer the prime suspect.”
Overwhelmed, I clapped both hands over my mouth. The silver shackles still jingled at my wrists, but freedom was already within reach. I could almost touch it.
Whether another servant was suspected instead, or Kyle Casenis was imprisoned as the true culprit—it no longer mattered to me.
All I wanted, all I longed for with trembling joy, was to be declared innocent at the upcoming trial and walk out of Fortress Prison with my head held high.
