"Kid, we're in trouble" my father muttered low, his face tense. "On the one hand, a thug who devoured a naked centipede. On the other, an angelic girl who had to be escorted to her seat as if she were made of porcelain"
He didn't need to say any more. One glance around the room was enough to notice the mood. Those nobles looked at me as if I were the biggest scoundrel in the empire. A rapist of dreams, a callous scoundrel who had destroyed the innocence of the perfect maiden.
I sighed. Of course it was going to be like that.
"I don't think the plan to tell them what she did will work... they'll see it as slander" my father continued, almost biting his nails. He was visibly nervous. My father, the man who faced a wooden tiger with a broken sword, was scared of half a dozen fat-ass barons.
"Calm down, Dad. Staying calm is essential in these moments" I whispered with a half-smile. Not because I thought it was funny. But because if I didn't laugh, I'd spit blood.
I already knew I wouldn't have a chance to open my mouth. The truth was irrelevant there. In a social court, a woman is never the initiator. She is the passive recipient, the poor helpless victim.
"What is it, Zaatar? Were you coerced into riding a fiery lady in her carriage? What a tragedy!"
That's what they would think. That's what they would say - with the same contempt one has for a dog that barks too much.
I wouldn't normally mind. I swear I wouldn't. Did she cheat on me? Fine. It's over. Life goes on.
But does she want to get married after that? Bind me to her by name and honor?
Ah, that was suicide. I already had an antler. I didn't want to become a moose.
And what was worse? As a man, I would never be the victim. Nothing I said would be taken seriously. Provide evidence? Testimony? What a joke. What mattered there was persuasion.
Interest. Politics. Appearances.
And I knew exactly how to play that game.
When the judge entered the room, and I saw his face wrinkled and crumpled from the two-month journey here, I understood once and for all.
He shouldn't be there.
Normally the judge would be one of the region's 'neutral' nobles. Someone chosen by the three houses or, perhaps, the governor himself. But this old man... he had a name I'd heard before, in meetings with my father. A bought judge. A man with a full pocket.
(At least three thousand gold coins...) I thought. (The Primavera house shelled out enough to buy even the dignity of a minor king)
The world wasn't fair. It never was.
The question was never "how would I win". I knew from the start that winning this court would be impossible. The House of Spring had bought half an empire, and the nobles who were judging me were nothing more than dogs well fed on their scraps.
So, rather than fight an impossible battle... I decided to wear them down to the bone.
While the judge cleared his throat, I opened my dark leather notebook and flicked to one of the last pages - where I had written down my projected expenses. Bribes, gifts, favors. It was all there. Three thousand gold at least. That's how much it cost to manipulate the rusty cogs of the empire just to get to this scenario. And now... there we were.
"Good morning, gentlemen" began the judge, in that pasty, artificial voice that irritated me just listening to it. "Once again, we have gathered here, after months of discussion on this matter. The court has decided, through letters, that our defendant, Zaatar Udrak, is found guilty in this case"
I continued to sit cross-legged, observing the golden frame of the coat of arms above his head as if analyzing a work of art. He spoke as if he had just won the war.
"Following our traditions and laws decided by imperial edict, there are two paths here and now" he continued, excited with himself. "Zaatar Udrak, you can accept the conviction and meet Baroness Victoria's demands: a formalized, publicly recognized marriage; the payment of ten thousand gold coins in compensation; and the handing over of a lost relic - of Miss Victoria's own choosing"
Ah, there it is. The real price. Ten thousand coins - the return of Spring House's investment. And the relic? A pretext. It always was.
(So that's it... They're feeling it in their pockets. Otherwise, they wouldn't demand compensation. Interesting... very interesting) I thought, mentally noting the poorly disguised bluff behind the demand.
I remained silent. Not a single beat of my heart. I didn't move. I didn't even blink.
"Your second choice is to request a formal duel" said the judge, in that pasty, pretentiously neutral voice. "This requires the support of the local nobles and a representative. You also have the right to a deposition for your defense"
My eyes slowly turned to the other side of the stand, where the three pieces of meat dressed as people stared at me as if they had already won. They looked as if they were sure the game had been played. Pathetic.
I was about to get up when the referee continued, as if savoring every word:
"But before that, I believe Miss Victoria has the right to speak on the subject, so that everything is clear to those present"
I almost smiled.
Look at me, an idiot.
"I deny it" I said loud and clear, standing up calmly, letting everyone in the room hear me clearly.
The judge arched an eyebrow, feigning surprise.
"Do you deny it?"
"Yes" I replied, with my arms crossed. "You're showing bias. The first person to speak is always the accused, not the accuser. That's basic even for a market scribe, let alone a judge in this court"
The room became quieter. Even the sound of the wood from the stands seemed to diminish.
"As for that" I continued, projecting my voice clearly. "I will make a formal complaint to the Ten Nobles who make up this court, by letter, as is right. They will decide whether your conduct was appropriate or not. But right now, I feel pressured, indignant and therefore..."
I took a step forward.
"I demand another judge"
The judge froze for a moment. I saw it. The gears in his head squeaked like rusty wheels trying to understand what had happened. He finally realized: I was using the law against him.
"I suggested this privilege only because of the situation, I..." he began to stammer, trying to justify himself.
"You went against an imperial edict" I interrupted, without blinking. "And I, as an interested party, don't feel comfortable in your presence. In fact, I feel psychologically shaken to know that I'm being judged by someone who isn't being impartial. The people here are witnesses to your words, right?"
"I withdraw my words and..." the judge began, already trying to backtrack.
"It doesn't matter whether you withdraw or not" I interrupted, firmly, without raising my voice. "Your action, your obvious preference for breaking the basic rules of a trial, makes me question your integrity as a man. Of course, if you disagree, you can defend your honor against me. Right here, on this platform. At any time"
Silence fell like a muffled storm over the hall. I saw the faces of the nobles turn pale. They were beginning to understand.
There I was, a thirteen-year-old combat master, challenging a decorated judge to a duel to the death. It wasn't just daring - it was humiliation.
I used just one opening. Just one. And now he was cornered.
The judge stared at me for several seconds. Trying to find some way out. But he knew. He had already lost.
That's when a second voice echoed next to him. It came from another judge, older, more thoughtful - or perhaps just more cowardly.
"Under this imposition" he said, clearing his throat, "the trial will be postponed for two months. Until then, the request will be formalized and sent to the competent nobles"
I smiled inside. One of those broad, genuine smiles... but which, of course, I couldn't show. Not yet.
"Then we'll see in two months" I said, my voice lighter than it should have been, almost joking. And, to complete the show, I stretched my lips into a huge smile.
(Let's extract every penny from that greedy little pig...) I thought, getting up from my chair.
My footsteps echoed through the silent chamber. The warriors of House Udrak followed me naturally - none of them said a word. But I knew it. They were pleased. The way their eyes avoided the floor, the upright posture, that was silent approval.
The judge, on the other hand, had a face as red as a tomato rotting in the sun. It was almost comical. He had proposed it to protect Victoria, thinking he would strike me down before I could react. He wanted her to speak first, creating a shield around the accusations.
But I hadn't counted on that. I didn't count on the 'simple warrior' using the law itself to kick him out of his chair. Poor thing.
These nobles still haven't understood... House Udrak isn't made up of blind brutes. Our armor is steel, but our minds are as sharp as our blades.
He was cornered. I couldn't fight back. If he tried to insist, I'd have the perfect chance to extend the trial, move the matter to another court - and cast doubt on his own integrity as a judge. And that... well, that would take years. Years and thousands of gold coins.
In short: he had traveled for two months just to be ridiculed, and now he would have to return with his tail between his legs and be replaced by another judge. Three thousand gold coins thrown in the garbage can - and all because of a few misplaced words.
The head of the Primavera house will love this story. He'll laugh so hard... when he's finished breaking some furniture.
Good luck with that, Your Excellency.