The hall was still heavy with the echoes of Ser Dwayne's voice. He stood proud, armor gleaming, words sharp and confident. Every point King Alexander and Edward had raised—missing gold, the suspicious letters, the whispers—he had deflected with the ease of a man who'd been playing this game far longer than anyone else.
And honestly? It was working.
The nobles nodded along. Some knights even muttered approval under their breath.
If you didn't know better, you'd think Ser Dwayne was the victim here.
Eustass sat quietly among the crowd, his small frame swallowed by the high-backed chair. His lips curved in a thin smile, but inside, he was grinding his teeth.
Tsk. He's good. Too good.
The king leaned back, rubbing at his temple. Edward stepped forward again, his voice calm but sharp.
"Then, Ser Dwayne, perhaps you can also explain the missing golds? Several accounts show shortages in the treasury during your envoy missions."
The hall hushed again.
Dwayne's jaw flexed, but then he gave a bark of laughter. "Golds? My lord, gold does not sprout wings and fly away. On the road, we pay mercenaries, secure safe passage, bribe foreign hands so war does not reach our borders. If those ledgers confuse you, then perhaps the scribes should be put on trial, not me."
A ripple of uneasy chuckles went through the nobles. His confidence was magnetic, pulling them back on his side.
Eustass narrowed his eyes. Damn. He flipped it again. Like nothing sticks.
But then—
The double doors at the back of the hall slammed open.
Every head turned.
A young woman stumbled inside, her breath ragged, eyes wide with fear but blazing with determination. The royal guards immediately blocked her path, crossing spears.
"Stop! You cannot barge into the royal trial!" one of them barked.
The woman thrashed against them, voice breaking into a desperate cry. "I have to speak! Please—if you don't let me, the truth will stay buried!"
Gasps rippled across the hall. Whispers shot like sparks.
Eustass's stomach dropped. His eyes widened.
Emilia?!
His fingers curled tight against the armrest. What the hell are you doing here?! This isn't the place for you. Not now. Not with him watching…
King Alexander raised his hand, silencing the noise. His piercing gaze fell on Edward. "Who is this woman? Why is there chaos in my court?"
Edward stepped forward, sharp eyes assessing the trembling girl. "Guards. Hold. Let her speak. State your name, girl."
Emilia swallowed, her voice shaking but loud enough to carry. "M-my name is Emilia. I am a maid… serving within this very palace."
The crowd erupted—nobles scoffing, knights muttering. A servant daring to interrupt the king's trial? Unheard of.
But Emilia raised her chin, her hand trembling as she pointed directly at Ser Dwayne.
"And I know the truth about that man."
The entire hall froze.
Ser Dwayne's face, moments ago glowing with pride, darkened. His eyes snapped toward her, sharp and cold.
"You dare—" he began.
But Emilia's voice cut through, louder this time. "The rumors are true! All of them! I know because… because I was there! I saw him plotting, cheating, stealing—using his station to cover his sins!"
The crowd erupted again, half gasps, half scoffs.
One noble sneered. "Pah! Who would believe a maid over the Royal Envoy?"
Eustass felt his chest tighten. He leaned forward in his chair, eyes locked on Emilia. Idiot… you're walking into the lion's den. They'll eat you alive.
Dwayne smirked, his voice dripping with false calm. "My King, you see? These are desperate lies spun by those who envy me. Shall we now let servants dictate the fate of the realm?"
The crowd murmured again. And just like that, Emilia was losing.
Her face paled. Her hands shook. It felt like she couldn't breathe under the weight of all those doubting stares.
Eustass's nails dug into his palm. She's crumbling…
And then—Emilia snapped.
Her voice rang out, breaking with emotion:
"You want the truth? Then hear it! That man tried to murder your youngest son—Prince Kairus—and his mother, Lady Elizabeth!"
The hall shattered into chaos. Gasps. Shouts. Chairs scraping. Even the knights broke their formation in shock.
King Alexander shot up from his throne, his face thunderous. "What did you just say?"
Edward's expression hardened. He took a slow step forward. "That is a grave accusation, girl. Do you have evidence?"
Emilia's hands shook, but she fumbled into her pouch. "I—I kept this." She pulled out a small glass cup, its rim faintly stained. "This is the glass of Prince Kairus from a month ago, the one I wiped poison on."
Then she pulled out a small bundle of dried, twisted leaves, wrapped in cloth. "And this. The poison. It's called Nightshade Bloom. It doesn't kill right away—it takes days to creep into the veins. But it kills silently."
Edward motioned sharply. "Physician. Step forward."
A royal physician in gray robes rushed forward, bowing before the King before taking the items carefully. He examined them with shaking hands. Minutes ticked by in silence.
Finally, he looked up, his face pale.
"It is true, Your Majesty. This is indeed Nightshade Bloom. A slow poison, subtle but deadly. It would have taken days before symptoms appeared… but there is no mistake."
The hall erupted again—panic, outrage, disbelief.
The king's knuckles turned white as he gripped the arm of his throne. His voice boomed across the chamber: "Dwayne! Answer these charges!"
All eyes snapped to the envoy.
For the first time that day, Ser Dwayne faltered. His jaw clenched. But then—he laughed.
A cold, sharp laugh.
"So now… my fate hangs on the word of a maid? A maid who offers no proof beyond a dirty cup and weeds? This is beneath the dignity of this court."
He turned, sweeping his gaze across the nobles. "Tell me, lords and ladies—will you believe a servant over me? Over the man who has protected your borders, secured your trade, and carried this kingdom on his back for decades?"
The room wavered. Some nobles nodded, muttering agreement. Others looked uncertain.
Emilia's breath hitched. Her knees trembled. She had nothing left to say. No more evidence. Just her word against his.
Silence swallowed the hall.
And then—
Tap.
A small sound echoed.
Tap.
Shoes, light against the stone floor.
The crowd shifted, whispers spreading like wildfire. Heads turned. Eyes widened.
A boy—small, dark-haired, no older than ten—walked slowly down the aisle.
The king's eyes went wide. Edward's lips parted in shock. Even the nobles straightened in disbelief.
Prince Kairus.
Eustass.
He stopped beside Emilia, his gaze sweeping the hall. His heart thundered in his chest, but his expression was steady.
Inside, his thoughts whirled. Damn it, Emilia. You shouldn't have done this. But now… I don't have a choice, do I?
For a moment, he hesitated. His instincts screamed to stay hidden, to keep playing in the shadows.
But then another voice echoed in his mind.
I've never backed away from a fight. Not once. And I'm not starting now.
His small fists clenched at his sides.
The hall held its breath.
All eyes on him.
And for the first time, Eustass stepped out of the shadows—straight into the fire.