The princess’s appearance, which had been nothing but a rumor since the Dumblin Championship finals, was truly shocking.
The princess was wearing a coarse cotton dress that a country peasant wouldn’t even wear. The dress didn’t even fit her, and her gaunt body swayed inside the ill-fitting fabric. Her appearance was so shabby it was hard to believe she was the same person who had been the belle of the social scene, the Queen of Tennis, and the noble princess of the Britte Kingdom.
“Heaven is so heartless…” The noblewomen sighed behind their feathered fans.
As the princess walked toward the defendant’s seat, her emaciated body swayed as if she were dizzy. Two court officials walking beside her quickly supported her. She closed her eyes for a moment to steady her breathing in the shadow of her black fascinator veil, looking so fragile she seemed as if she would collapse at any moment.
“Oh, my…” The onlookers all lamented the pitiable defendant. Some noblewomen sobbed, wiping away tears with their handkerchiefs.
Anne Blyn barely made it to her seat. She quietly bowed to the chief judge and sat down in the defendant’s chair. Under the veil with its delicate rose embroidery, her bloodless cheeks and neck looked especially pale. The princess was not overwhelmed by the court’s atmosphere; though gaunt, the undeniable grace of her noble blood still emanated from her.
Olivia, who had been calmly observing the defendant’s seat, now looked forward. Following her gaze, Johan, seated in the front row of the gallery, looked at the side of Olivia’s face. It was a prime spot that offered the best view of her profile as she listened intently to the prosecutor’s opening statement. It was also a spot where the nobles’ malicious remarks could be heard clearly.
“Oh my, I feel so sorry for her. She must have been suffering so much…”
“I’ve lived so long I’m seeing all sorts of awful things. No matter how much the world has changed, for a lowly bastard to put a nation’s princess on trial…”
An old noblewoman fanned herself and clucked her tongue, then her eyes met Johan’s as he tilted his head over his shoulder. Her wrinkled lips clamped shut. A moment later, the curtain rose on what would be the worst trial of the century.
The Prosecution and the First Witness
“The prosecution claims that the defendant, Princess Anne Blyn Grace of Britte, is guilty of the charge of bribing Jerry Ackerman, a coachman from the McDowell family, to kidnap the plaintiff at approximately 4 PM on June 28th.”
Prosecutor Cassan Cloud, standing before the judge’s bench, concluded his brief opening statement and returned to his seat. The courtroom immediately buzzed with noise. The spectators who were just now hearing the full story of the Leopold Hotel “ghost incident” were stunned.
What is he going to do now that Angela Burkin is gone? Anne Blyn’s eyes curved into a leisurely smile, hidden behind her veil.
Following the defense lawyer’s opening statement claiming the defendant’s innocence, the first witness in the case finally took the stand.
“I, Jerry Ackerman, solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God.” Jerry Ackerman placed his thick hand on the Bible and read the oath. The defendant’s lawyer, Nori Graham, cross-examined him.
“Witness, what is this?” Jerry’s gaze went to the paper in Lawyer Graham’s hand.
‘Bring her respectfully.’
“That’s what I handed to Miss Blanchet.”
“From whom did you receive this note?”
“A lady I’d never seen before.”
“What did she instruct you to do?”
“…She told me to kidnap Miss Blanchet and take her to a designated location.” The coachman answered with a shameless face that showed no sign of remorse.
“Oh, my goodness…” A low murmur spread through the courtroom.
“Do you know the lady’s name?”
“No.”
“So you accepted a request from a woman you’d never met and whose name you didn’t even know?”
“I needed the money.”
Sounds of clucking and condemnation came from various parts of the room.
“Then would you be able to identify her from a portrait?”
Graham had the court staff hold up three prepared drawings in a row. Jerry, who was nonchalantly picking his ear, pointed without hesitation to the portrait in the middle. Graham gestured to the staff, who turned to face the gallery.
“Esteemed judges, and ladies and gentlemen. This woman is Miss Angela, from the Burkin barony.”
Graham continued his explanation with a flamboyant and exaggerated gesture, as if a magician were introducing his beautiful assistant.
“She was a lower-ranking maid for the Princess. She tried to frame the Princess for the kidnapping of Miss Blanchet, but tormented by guilt, she went to confess to Duke Leopold. And then she disappeared. Why? I conclude my examination.”
“The plaintiff may examine the witness.”
Cassan Cloud looked at Olivia. When she gave a short nod, the prosecutor addressed the judges.
“I have no questions.”
Graham’s mustache twitched in satisfaction. Next, he called the Princess’s maids to the witness stand one after another.
“I remember her as someone who had a lot of complaints about the Princess. She was very angry when she was excluded from the official dinner with the Argent Kingdom. And after she failed to get a promotion, she openly…”
“She had a bad habit of taking things. I saw her touch the Princess’s jewelry without permission several times. I turned a blind eye because she begged me so earnestly. I never thought she would do something so harmful to the Princess like this…”
The maids seemed to have practiced countless times; they performed their assigned tasks perfectly. As a result, with each testimony, the gallery seethed with anger.
A nervous Olivia glanced toward the gallery entrance. Her eyes met Johan Leopold’s. He shook his head. Hiding her disappointment, Olivia nodded lightly and straightened her posture. Johan watched with a bored expression as the defense lawyer turned the tragedy of Olivia Blanchet’s kidnapping into a farce by pinning the blame on Angela Burkin. He occasionally checked the watch on his wrist.
“Please take note of this.” Graham’s thunderous voice shook the courtroom.
He revealed that the evidence he was about to submit was the handwritten suicide note of the guilty person, Angela Burkin, delivered to the Burkin barony yesterday. He emphasized the word “guilty.”
“Oh, my God… A suicide note? Then… could it be…” People looked dumbfounded by the unbelievable truth.
Graham turned to the gallery and read the suicide note aloud. It was a rather long, rambling note stating that Angela had committed the unforgivable crime out of resentment for being passed over for a promotion, and that she was now taking her own life to atone for it.
Graham raised his voice, declaring that the evidence of Angela Burkin’s confession to her wicked crime of trying to frame the Princess was clear, and that the Princess of Britte’s innocence had been once again proven to the world.
When the lawyer concluded his statement, the crowd began to murmur again. The judges on the bench put their heads together and began to discuss something. Olivia Blanchet and the Princess were both victims of Angela Burkin. As if caught in a swift current, the trial’s conclusion was rapidly racing toward its end.
“Even so, how dare a lower-class maid…”
“The Burkin barony is finished now.”
The enraged people had already sentenced Angela Burkin to death by hanging in their minds. They had already put a rope around the neck of the woman who was no longer in this world.
Olivia turned her head. Her eyes met Johan’s.
‘Not yet?’
Just as Johan was about to nod in response to her silent question, the back door of the courtroom opened carefully. Maurice urgently approached Johan. He sat next to Johan and whispered something in his ear. In that moment, a strange light came into Johan’s dark eyes. Only then did he give Olivia a short nod.
Olivia and the prosecutor were now in a deep discussion with Duke Leopold behind them. Their expressions were quite serious.
Now? Anne Blyn wore a crooked smile. She even felt a little sorry for the woman who seemed to have no plan. Why would she start something she couldn’t handle?
Poor Angela.
In a way, isn’t Angela’s death also the fault of that bastard?
Just as Anne Blyn was steeling her expression, thinking it was about time to end this boring trial, the prosecutor suddenly stood up.
“Esteemed judges. I request to call a witness.”
Lawyer Graham, with a look of dismay, rose from his seat. “I object, Your Honor.”
The judge, wearing a white wig that hung down to his shoulders, glanced at Princess Anne Blyn. He was a high-ranking official, a loyal royalist, the late king’s son-in-law, and Anne Blyn’s godfather.
Anne Blyn gave a light nod, and her veil fluttered. A faint smile spread across her face, unseen by anyone. No matter who they put on the witness stand, they couldn’t overturn this verdict. She could afford to be that magnanimous. Just for the last time.
When the judge’s permission was granted, the prosecutor gestured to a staff member. The staff member opened the door for witnesses.
All eyes in the courtroom were fixed on the entrance. Someone gasped, swallowing their breath.
“…”
The next moment, the courtroom was in an uproar.
“Oh, no… Is that…?”
“Surely not. Could… could that be the witness?”
At the mumbling sounds, Anne Blyn, who had been sitting motionless, slowly turned her head toward the entrance. Golden dust motes floated in the dim sunlight pouring through the solemn gridded windows. Someone walked into that light.
“…!”
Inside the veil of darkness, Anne Blyn’s amber eyes widened in shock.
