CHAPTER 48………………………………………………..
With everyone’s attention focused, Pharrell stood.
Even in front of the murmuring spectators, the man remained utterly businesslike—so much so that it almost came off as arrogance.
“It seems the courtroom is rather noisy.”
At Pharrell’s remark, the judge spoke.
“Everyone, please remain silent.”
As the whispers died down, Pharrell lightly bowed his upper body in thanks.
A calm confidence born of experience clung to him.
“I also have a few questions for Ms. Laura Emerson.”
Laura swallowed hard.
The defense’s cross-examination began.
“Ms. Emerson, these are simple questions, so you needn’t be too nervous.”
“Yes.”
“A moment ago, you testified that the young duke rejected the plaintiff and went out for a walk. Around when did that occur?”
“Well… it was definitely spring, so it must have been around this time last year.”
“Late spring, then. Late spring brings something to mind.”
Pharrell’s eyes sharpened.
“In Cassius territory, late spring is when the festival known as ‘Little Rienna’s Birthday’ takes place, is it not?”
“…Pardon?”
Laura looked flustered by the sudden change in topic.
“Do you remember that festival held last year?”
“Your Honor,” Sharon protested, “this has nothing to do with the case.”
“It does,” Pharrell replied smoothly. “You’ll understand shortly.”
“…Let us hear it first,” the judge decided.
Sharon’s objection was dismissed.
“Please answer. Do you remember last year’s ‘Little Rienna’s Birthday’?”
Careful not to reveal unnecessary information, Laura answered briefly.
“I do.”
“As I understand it, the Cassius household provides special meals for servants on each festival day.”
“Yes, that is correct.”
“What was served on that particular day?”
“Um… that is…”
It was hard to recall precisely.
Cassius festivals weren’t rare—there were at least two every month.
Who could remember every meal?
Sharon objected again.
“What does this have to do with today’s trial?”
“It doesn’t. Not directly.”
Pharrell’s gaze gleamed.
“I merely wish to illustrate how uncertain and malleable human memory is.”
“You’re implying the witness’s memory regarding the young duke is flawed?”
“Not necessarily flawed. Only that it may contain inaccuracies.”
He continued calmly.
“These events occurred around the same time, yet the witness cannot recall details about the festival day, can she?”
“The importance of the events differs. Of course the clarity of memory differs.”
“A festival is still a notable event in ordinary life, is it not?”
“There are more than forty official festival days in Cassius territory each year.”
“And the number of times the witness claims the young duke rejected the plaintiff is about that many as well.”
Pharrell lifted both hands as if in mild confusion.
“I don’t understand why you’re being so aggressive. I am not saying the witness is completely wrong.”
He looked around the courtroom.
“I am simply suggesting that even if the core event is true, minor details may easily be mistaken.”
Then he posed the real question.
“The witness testified that the young duke refused the plaintiff even when he had leisure… but is that truly the case?”
Laura cried out hurriedly.
“It’s not a lie!”
“I am not accusing you of perjury.”
Pharrell’s tone remained smooth.
“But whether he appeared to have leisure is ultimately your subjective judgment.”
Finally, the point emerged.
“Ms. Emerson, you are a maid who spends most of your time at the plaintiff’s side. How accurately can you truly know whether the young duke was busy or not?”
And more than that—
“It seems you have developed a strong attachment to the plaintiff. There is a high possibility your emotions influenced your judgment.”
He did not stop there.
He lifted a thick bundle of papers from his desk.
“My client was burdened with relentless duties, unable to rest even at home. We submit as evidence this schedule record of the defendant’s past two years.”
The judge scanned the document.
“The schedule is indeed packed entirely with work.”
“Multiple individuals, including the defendant’s aide, Mr. Chris, have confirmed its accuracy. It is highly objective evidence.”
Compared to a single maid’s testimony—
That was the implication.
Clever.
If Pharrell had attacked Laura aggressively, he would have looked like a villain bullying a helpless servant.
Instead, with minimal questioning, he planted doubt.
Idel analyzed the situation coldly.
He made it seem like Laura’s testimony cannot be fully trusted.
The atmosphere in the gallery, which had been cold toward Leandro, gradually began to soften.
However—
We had something to say about that “packed” schedule.
“Your Honor, please look at the entries labeled ‘regular report.’”
Sharon tapped the copy of the schedule with her finger.
“Once or twice a month, there are business trips lasting an average of a week.”
“I see.”
“Isn’t that rather strange?”
“It is frequent. And the details are oddly empty. Other entries are filled to the brim.”
Pharrell responded quickly, as if he had anticipated this.
“It is a schedule for traveling to the capital to report regularly to Duke Cassius on the management of the territory. Travel time is long, so naturally the workload decreases.”
Sharon’s voice sharpened.
“Does every report truly need to be done face-to-face? This often? Isn’t it inefficient?”
“The position of a lord carries immense responsibility. As a proxy, the young duke must seek direct guidance from his father.”
“Even taking the direct magical train, it takes two days from Ashton to the capital. Round trip, four days.”
Sharon leaned forward.
“A man too busy to spare even a moment for his wife wastes four days on a railway?”
“He is working for the sake of the territory.”
“I’d like to ask then. Out of seven days, after subtracting four for travel, are the remaining three truly all needed just to prepare a report?”
“The report is not everything. He attends noble councils at the palace, assists family businesses, engages in minimal social obligations—”
Bang!
Sharon slammed a thick stack of documents onto the desk.
It was just as heavy as Pharrell’s schedule bundle.
“For a more accurate response from the defense, we have prepared evidence of our own.”
The judge frowned.
“And what evidence is this?”
Sharon smiled faintly.
“As Your Honor will soon see, there are also many here who cannot personally review the documents, so I will briefly explain.”
Her clear voice echoed through the courtroom.
“First, multiple eyewitness accounts from × month × day two years ago, describing members of House Cassius enjoying a boating excursion on Lake Marilyn.”
Lake Marilyn was a famous scenic spot near the capital.
“Fourteen witnesses testified that the defendant, Leandro Cassius, was among them.”
Sharon flipped several pages.
“Wow. Renting the entire lake and its island for a full day of leisure.”
More pages fluttered.
“Next, the guest list for a banquet hosted by Count Agrigento one month later. Here—Leandro Cassius is clearly written.”
She continued.
“His partner? His sister, Lady Rienna Cassius.”
Sharon skipped further witness accounts.
“Oh dear, this time it’s a newspaper article.”
She unfolded it.
“On × year × month × day, the society column reported that the young duke—”
“Your Honor!” Pharrell snapped.
“The plaintiff is recklessly exposing the defendant’s private life, which is unrelated to this trial!”
It was the first emotional reaction he had shown since proceedings began.
“Unrelated?” Sharon countered.
“These are all actions taken during the marriage.”
“Does everything done during marriage directly relate to divorce?”
“In this case, yes.”
Sharon held up the article.
“On × month × day, the defendant traveled to the southern resort city of Mopello with his family. His father and two siblings accompanied him.”
She gestured toward the towering stack beside her.
“There is more than enough proof that the defendant spent warm, intimate time with his family.”
Her voice rose.
“Yet he refused even tea time with his wife!”
This was the moment when all the colleagues who had run themselves ragged gathering evidence were rewarded.
“At this point, isn’t the truth obvious?”
Sharon’s words cut sharply.
“The great young duke was always busy—because he completed all his work while in the territory, in order to secure leisure time in the capital.”
A gasp spread through the courtroom at her blatant sarcasm toward a grand noble.
All eyes shifted to Leandro, waiting for his reaction.
Leandro’s expression remained stiff and unreadable—
But I could see it clearly.
He was shaken.
Neither he nor Pharrell had expected us to prepare this much in only two weeks.
Sharon had rarely been given the chance to display her true ability.
And my financial power was nothing compared to Cassius.
Rienna might have warned them about Sharon’s future greatness—
But unless she revealed she was a regressor, there were limits.
Thank you… all of you.
In that moment, I truly felt gratitude toward those helping me win my divorce.
“Your Honor.”
Pharrell called to the judge, but his gaze flicked toward Sharon and me.
Was it arrogance to think it looked almost like acknowledgment?
“I admit the defendant’s family bonds are strong.”
I straightened my back.
I knew this had only been the opening skirmish.
“However, that does not constitute grounds for divorce.”
His voice sharpened.
“Because the defendant and his family repeatedly invited the plaintiff to join them.”
Now—
The real battle began.
Sharon tried to object.
“Objection! That is not—”
“I have not finished speaking. Objections may come afterward.”
Pharrell cut her off cleanly.
“The one who repeatedly rejected the in-laws’ requests and offers was the plaintiff.”
He smiled faintly.
“Therefore, both spouses bear equal fault in the breakdown of the relationship.”
That man—
My clenched fist trembled.
Sharon translated my fury into logic.
“How is that the plaintiff’s fault? When the marital relationship itself was never properly formed, who on earth would want to spend time with the other party’s family?”
“That is indeed not the usual case,” the judge agreed.
Pharrell answered smoothly.
“There is a reason it happened. As is widely known, before marriage, the young duke had absolutely no romantic experience with women.”
“…What does that have to do with this?”
“Would such a man suddenly become adept at dealing with the opposite sex overnight? Experience matters in all things.”
Wait—
So that meant…
“The young duke was simply awkward, because he did not know how to treat his wife.”
Pharrell spoke the absurd excuse with complete confidence.
“Avoiding situations where they were alone, and instead arranging time with the ducal family, was merely a result of this immaturity.”
Leandro, seated at the defendant’s stand, nodded as if it were truth.
“With familiar family nearby, he felt less nervous.”
Pharrell’s voice softened.
“He sincerely wished to repair the relationship.”
The more I listened, the more ridiculous it became.
“It is deeply unfortunate,” Pharrell concluded.
“Due to improper methods and the defendant’s limited circumstances, we have reached today’s tragedy.”
With his eloquence, Leandro was being painted into something else entirely—
A man who knew only work, not love…
And who realized love too late, regretting it only after his wife tried to leave.
Pathetic.
I wanted to hit that sorrowful, tortured face a million times.
But unfortunately, to those who didn’t know his true nature, the excuse was working.
Many spectators looked uncertain.
Pharrell pulled out written testimonies from Cassius servants—statements crafted entirely in Leandro’s favor.
“A maid testified that the young duke often asked how the plaintiff was doing.”
“An aide testified that he ordered anything the plaintiff wanted to be purchased, regardless of price.”
The documents piled high.
Sharon countered quickly.
“Servants of House Cassius are known for their loyalty. Their testimony cannot be taken at face value.”
“And yet the plaintiff also summoned her own maid as a witness.”
Pharrell’s voice was calm.
“And is it truly possible that all these people conspired to commit perjury?”
Sharon pressed harder.
“Does it make sense that he rejected his wife repeatedly simply because he didn’t know how to treat her? He could have just sat beside her in silence and done better than that.”
“I admit his response was not ideal. The young duke deeply regrets it.”
Pharrell slipped away again and again.
Sharon’s rebuttals didn’t land as deeply.
I fell into thought.
That shameless excuse carried a familiar scent.
Rienna.
Using well-known facts as tools to gain sympathy.
Just like Rienna, who had turned her weakness of being a common orphan into a pitiful public image rather than hiding it.
This isn’t Pharrell’s style.
He preferred crushing opponents completely.
This—
This was Rienna’s interference.
A strong sensation washed over me.
The one I was truly fighting in this courtroom was not Pharrell…
Not Leandro…
But Rienna.
