The Search for the Duchess’s Husband Chapter 102

Calvin, who had left his chair and was now standing, replied in a calm voice.

 

“That is the authority of the judge.”

 

“I know, which is why I came all the way down here to give you my orders.”

 

Killian was not angry. He made no threats.

 

His expression was calm, his tone languid.

 

And yet he radiated an aura of power that choked others. Even Calvin, who had seen so many sinners in his life-including a knight who had taken hundreds of lives-was left breathless.

 

Calvin was a fair judge to all and a fiercely principled man, but he also knew how to value his life.

 

In other words, he was flexible enough to make this a public trial.

 

Calvin nodded obediently.

 

“I will.”

 

Calvin thought about that time.

 

He wonders if people know.

 

That Prince Killian, at the height of his power, is taking an enormous interest in the very private trial of a couple.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

A memorandum was published in which Calvin wrote

 

 

“As a case in which so many people are interested, if it were tried in private, public opinion might be formed against the course of justice, let it be tried in public.”

 

 

Applications to observe the trial poured in. Forty observers were selected according to strict criteria.

 

Artia was among them.

 

Unfortunately, Marigold and Dahlia were not chosen as observers.

 

“We need you to be the strength of our princesses.”

 

Remembering Marigold’s words, Artia took a seat at the front of the audience.

 

It was the seat closest to Freesia.

 

The people who filled the huge gallery chattered about today’s trial.

 

Some were in favor of Freesia, others in defense of Count Elysium.

 

The sides were clearly divided. Tensions rose and voices grew louder.

 

“It makes no sense to lay hands on your wife under any circumstances. Count Elysium should apologize for his violence and never use violence again.”

 

“Ha, the fault lies with Countess Elysium, for what wife in the world would report her husband, the head of the household?”

 

The chattering crowd suddenly fell silent, unsure if they were in a courtroom or a back alley.

 

Killian stepped into the bright light.

 

The sight of the prince, his golden eyes cold and arrogant, stunned the crowd.

 

The trial of the Counts of Elysium was a case of extraordinary interest, but the matter was trivial and sensational, in other words, far from dignified.

 

As such, the Imperial Family and the great nobility were reluctant to comment on the case.

 

Killian’s appearance in such a situation…

 

Striding nonchalantly through the looks of embarrassment and fear, Killian sat down on an empty seat. Right next to Artia.

 

Artia rose from her chair, lifted the hem of her skirt, and bowed her head.

 

“Greetings to the blood of the almighty Orpheus.”

 

“Sit down. Let us focus on the trial.” Killian said, meeting her eyes.

 

“Yes.”

 

Artia sat in the chair as quickly as she had risen.

 

Nocturne, sitting across from Killian, spoke in his characteristically gentle tone.

 

“His Highness wishes us to concentrate on the trial!”

 

At that moment, all eyes turned from Killian to the other side of the room. The breathless silence remained.

 

Looking at Artia, who stood stiffly, staring straight ahead, Killian spoke.

 

“You look like you have a million questions.”

 

Artia said in a low voice, turning her head to face Killian.

 

“It’s customary for royalty to sit in specially reserved seats when they observe a trial, and I’m curious why Your Highness is sitting here.”

 

Killian replied as if it were not a difficult question.

 

“It’s a tribunal, it’s supposed to be equal and fair, regardless of power.”

 

‘And why, of all the seats, are you sitting next to me?’

 

Artia wanted to ask that as well, but she held back. Somehow it felt right.

 

It was a strange thing. To feel the gaze of one Killian more intensely than the dozens that had been directed at her a moment ago.

 

Artia flicked her slightly flushed face away.

 

‘Pull yourself together. This is not the time to worry about Your Highness.’

 

Artia scanned the courtroom, desperately trying to compose herself.

 

One third for Freesia, two thirds for Count Elysium.

 

That was close to the actual public opinion.

 

His desperate efforts had yielded greater results than he had expected, but there were limits.

 

More people still condemned the woman for reporting her husband than the man for beating her.

 

“But public opinion is public opinion, and we don’t know what the outcome of the trial will be.”

 

Artia rubbed her eyes and tugged at the hem of her skirt.

 

Killian, sitting stiffly beside her, glared at her.

 

Artia of Edenberg is at war again.

 

Unlike before, when she fought with her own sword, this time in the guise of a librarian standing behind the Countess of Elysium.

 

She may appear nonchalant on the outside, but she must be nervous about the outcome of a battle she is not one hundred percent sure of.

 

Nevertheless, she looks ahead without fear…

 

‘Pretty.’

 

His heart flutters. His whole body is hot. His fingertips tingle.

 

Killian was feeling frighteningly unfamiliar sensations all over his body.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The trial began.

 

Count Elysium appeared first.

 

Dressed in a white uniform, Count Elysium wore a glittering medal from the Imperial Court pinned to his chest.

 

He was the honorable and respected Count of Elysium.

 

A woman blushed and muttered to herself.

 

“There’s no way such a man would beat his wife.”

 

She and others who were mesmerized by his appearance could not imagine it.

 

The cruel thoughts that ran through the noble gentleman’s mind.

 

‘I will never forgive you, Freesia, for daring to report your husband and putting me on trial. As soon as the trial is over, I will have you taken to the mansion and locked in a room. I will whip you without giving you a sip of water.’

 

He will never stop, even if she begs him with both hands to forgive her for what she has done.

 

“But don’t worry too much, Freesia,” he said, “I won’t kill you, even if I have to ask you to.”

 

It’s hard to find a girl as beautiful as her.

 

‘I’m going to punish you for a year or so, and then I’m going to feed you properly, brush your hair, put makeup on you, and dress you in a wonderful, beautiful dress, and you’re going to be at my side again.’

 

What a merciful husband.

 

But soon, the Count of Elysium’s arrogantly glowing eyes widened. It was Freesia who had appeared from the other side.

 

The others looked surprised as well.

 

The noblewoman who had always wowed society looked completely different today.

 

Her face was bare, her white dress was unadorned, and she was so thin that she looked like she might collapse at any moment, giving off an air of sadness.

 

It was Artia who had made her look that way.

 

“People are so affected by what they see. Seeing a beautiful, sad woman will weaken people’s hearts.”

 

Artia was right.

 

Even those who were hostile to Freesia wore pitiful expressions.

 

‘First impressions count.’

 

Artia swallowed dryly, her hand tightening at the hem of her skirt.

 

In the center of the courtroom sat Calvin, dressed in a black robe. He opened his mouth.

 

“We will now begin the trial.”

 

He read from a sheet of paper, his voice calm, without a hint of high or low.

 

“The Countess of Elysium has been assaulted by her husband, the Count of Elysium, throughout their marriage and has suffered as a result. She has found it difficult to endure further violence and has requested a trial before the court to arbitrate against her husband’s violence.”

 

Calvin looked at Freesia.

 

“Is this report true?”

 

Freesia nodded; her face flushed.

 

“Yes, it is true.”

 

As soon as she finished, Count Elysium, sitting across from her, thumped his chest in frustration.

 

“I cherish and love my wife. There is not a man in society who does not know it, and I swear I have never done such a thing.”