Episode 3. The Second Trial
Everett shut her eyes tightly.
Viscount Ventink had paid Frederick to buy her, so asking him to cancel the marriage was almost a foolish request.
But instead of getting angry, the Viscount calmly asked,
“May I ask why?”
“W-Why…?”
“I was curious about you,” he said quietly. “I heard you spent years in prison, yet you came out and wanted to marry me. Why? What did you see in this old, useless man that made you propose first?”
So it was Frederick who had sent the marriage proposal.
And the Viscount had accepted it out of curiosity.
Everett felt bitter. The price of giving everything to Frederick was being sold off like property.
Tears filled her eyes at the thought.
“If it’s hard to talk about, you don’t have to,” the Viscount said kindly.
Everett wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
“Are you curious about… the murderer?”
“You look far too gentle to be one,” he said. “If I’ve been rude, forgive me. I’ve been sick and trapped in this estate too long. I lost my fear and gained too much curiosity.”
His small, playful smile made Everett relax a little.
“I’ll tell you,” she whispered.
The Viscount didn’t rush her. He just waited quietly for her to begin.
After a long pause, Everett started telling her story. She couldn’t share every terrible detail about Frederick, but she explained that this marriage had been his decision — that he had forced her into it.
The Viscount said nothing for a while. Everett’s small hope that he might believe her was fading when he finally spoke.
“You must have suffered a lot.”
Those simple words filled her with emotion.
“Do… do you believe me?”
“I didn’t think you were lying,” he said softly.
“T-Thank you. Truly.”
Her tears fell freely.
How long had it been since someone truly listened to her? Everyone had called her a monster and a murderer. Even Frederick, whom she had trusted most, had abandoned her.
But the man she thought would be cruel — this Viscount — believed her.
“I’ll cancel the wedding,” he said. “But I’ll tell people that you ran away. If they think you disappeared, there will be less trouble later. Do you understand?”
“Of course. I’ll leave the estate right away. Please, just give me a little time.”
“You don’t look well. Rest tonight and leave in the morning. I’ll have clothes and food prepared.”
Because of his kindness, Everett gained one more day.
But once Frederick heard she had run away, he would definitely hunt her down.
Then where can I go?
Everett had no family and no home. The sister she had once trusted had stolen her power and taken everything from her. She had lost her reason to live.
But I don’t want to die like this…
Everett wanted to live.
But where can I go to survive?
Maybe… that man… would believe me?
Only one face came to mind, though she didn’t even know his name or where he was. And if she tried to find him, she might be caught again.
After long thought, Everett decided to go far away — somewhere far from the capital.
“Sigh…”
She packed the only thing she owned — the wedding dress — and lay down on the bed.
Frederick and Hedia’s faces flashed through her mind, but she forced herself to rest. She needed strength for the long journey ahead.
That night, she finally fell asleep — escaping her nightmare of reality for a short while.
But in the dark early morning, a shadow fell across her pale face.
“Mmhh—!”
Someone covered her eyes and stuffed a cloth into her mouth. A heavy body pressed her down.
The weight crushed her chest, making it hard to breathe.
Panicking, Everett struggled and rubbed her face against the sheets until the blindfold came loose.
In the dim light, she saw the man on top of her hurriedly loosening his belt. The moonlight revealed his face —
Viscount Ventink.
“V-Viscount?” she gasped.
A twisted, disgusting smile spread across his lips.
“Stay still, and I’ll be gentle,” he whispered.
“Mmmph!”
He roughly pulled up her skirt. Everett kicked and struggled under his shadow.
“I pity you for being betrayed by your husband,” he said, panting. “But your husband was right about one thing — he told me to take your purity for myself.”
“……!”
Everett’s eyes widened as tears streamed down her cheeks. The man’s face was filled with lust.
“Heh. I can’t even remember the last time I had a virgin. Who would refuse such a gift?”
At last, he showed his true nature. His hot breath touched her face, making her shiver in disgust. But his next words froze her blood.
“It’s a shame, though. Tomorrow, you’ll be put on trial for killing your brothers.”
“Wh… what…?”
A trial?
Why?
Everett thrashed helplessly.
“Your husband already prepared all the evidence,” Ventink said. “I just promised to say I caught you while you were trying to run away. That bastard may be a monster, but he’s clever.”
Frederick had planned it all. Both the divorce and this marriage were just parts of his cruel play — a setup to make Everett take the blame for her brothers’ murders.
“You’re going to die anyway,” the Viscount said. “Wouldn’t it be a waste to die a virgin?”
His wrinkled hand slid across her skin.
Everett’s tears didn’t stop — not even when the guards burst in and dragged her away.
***
Seven years after her first trial, Everett faced another.
Barely two weeks had passed since she was released from prison.
In the solemn courtroom, ten judges wearing deep blue robes raised their hands one after another.
“Guilty.”
“Guilty.”
“Guilty.”
“…Guilty.”
Every one of them agreed to her death.
“The court delivers its judgment,” the presiding judge declared.
“Everett Montegue is sentenced to death.”
This time, the charge was the same — murder of family — but the punishment was the highest one: execution.
There was too much evidence — almost as if it had been perfectly prepared.
Letters written in Everett’s handwriting ordering the killings.
A man claiming she had hired him to kill her brothers.
A man who didn’t even know her — one Frederick had paid.
The story said she had arranged the murders while still in prison and then tried to flee when Frederick found out.
Her defense lawyer abandoned her before the trial even ended.
Hedia sat in the witness chair, pretending to cry, saying she had seen Everett kill her family.
Next to her, Frederick put on a face of righteous sorrow. “I can’t hide her crime any longer,” he said to the court.
Then, when he caught Everett’s terrified gaze, his lips curled.
Having fun?
He mouthed the words and pointed at her torn, dirty dress.
Her pale face turned whiter. Everett shrank into herself, trembling. Her body still smelled of the old man’s hands.
“I didn’t kill my family,” she repeated like a broken bird. “I didn’t kill my family. I didn’t kill my family…”
“She shows no sign of remorse,” one judge muttered.
No one listened to her. Everyone believed the real murderers.
A man in the audience shouted, “She killed her father, so of course she killed her brothers too! She’s a monster! Burn her alive!”
The crowd agreed, yelling for her death.
The judge’s gavel struck, sealing her fate.
***
At dawn, Everett was tied to a wooden post.
Though she was a noblewoman, her crime was declared too evil, so she was sentenced to burn at the stake.
The news spread quickly — even reaching a man named Adan, who lived far from the capital.
Adan was an investigator — a man who sought out truth and justice. Though he was born noble, he had disguised himself as a commoner to work in secret.
Just as he returned from a mission, his assistant approached.
“Your Highness, they say that woman, Everett, will be burned today.”
Adan froze. He was the only one who had doubted her guilt during her first trial.
His assistant continued, holding a newspaper.
“You remember the woman from Inggrid Prison — the one accused of killing her father.”
At the familiar name, Adan’s dark eyes flashed sharply beneath his black hair.
“What did you say she’s doing?”
“She was sentenced to death in the capital last week. The execution is today.”
Adan immediately dropped his papers and ran for his horse.
Burned?
After seven years in prison, and now this?
He laughed bitterly in disbelief.
His mind replayed their first meeting — the interrogation from years ago.
“You killed your father? How?”
“With… with a knife.”
Adan had laughed bitterly then too, looking at the trembling girl before him.
“With those thin wrists? The marquis’s body had six defensive wounds. Why don’t you have a single scratch?”
“T-That’s because…”
“You remember where you stabbed him, don’t you? And how you killed his pet beast?”
“The… the stomach… Stop asking! I said I killed him!”
Everett’s confession never made sense.
She had turned herself in, claiming to be the killer, but nothing matched the evidence.
Still, with her miserable past and her own confession, the court found her guilty.
“I’m a murderer,” she had said quietly.
Yet Adan had felt no evil in her at all. She seemed fragile — a woman who might crumble at a touch.
He had frowned without realizing it.
“I hate people like you,” he had said coldly.
Everett had smiled sadly.
“Yes. Everyone hates me. Why wouldn’t they? I’m a murderer who’s useless at everything.”
“No,” Adan said. “I hate that liars like you make it easy for real criminals to escape.”
“I’m sorry,” she’d whispered with a weak smile.
Adan had turned away in frustration. He’d told himself to forget her — that she wanted to live as a murderer, so let her.
He hated that she ruined all his efforts to seek justice. So he had stopped visiting her.
“Stupid woman,” he cursed now.
Of course Everett hadn’t killed anyone.
How could someone like her kill?
Even when prisoners bullied her, she’d only smile weakly and never fought back.
Adan knew that better than anyone — he’d been secretly watching her all those years.
If she had truly held hatred, she would have killed those who tormented her in prison. But she never did.
He had been working in secret all this time — fighting corruption, cleaning the system — hoping that when Everett was free, she could live in a better world.
But when he finally returned to her… it was too late.
At the place of execution, only a pile of black ashes remained — too broken to tell if it had been wood or a person.
If he had known it would end like this, he would have torn apart every lie, no matter what she said.
Even if she hated him for it.
“You always make me the bad one,” he whispered.
Clutching his chest, Adan murmured bitterly,
“I hope you find no peace… even there.”
