“What?”
Grand Duke Richard’s eyes widened at my announcement that I’d found his missing dagger.
A murmur swept through the spectators. Even the Crown Prince, who had shown little reaction throughout the proceedings, shot to his feet and fixed me with a piercing stare.
I met his gaze and gave him a sweet smile.
After all, it wasn’t as though I’d actually found the Grand Duke’s missing dagger.
“Quite a few of them, in fact.”
I opened the sack I’d placed beside me and turned it upside down.
Dozens of daggers, identical in appearance to the one submitted as evidence, came clattering onto the floor.
“I visited several weapons shops around the capital, and it turns out this particular dagger is a mass-produced item. It’s so widely available that it’s supplied to the entire Imperial Army. Which means virtually anyone who could obtain a dagger like this could be a suspect. Do you have any proof that the dagger submitted as evidence actually belongs to the defendant?”
It wasn’t as though the Grand Duke’s name was engraved on it. And in an era without advanced forensic science, there was no way to test for his fingerprints or DNA.
How on earth could they prove that the dagger used in the murder belonged to him?
The whole argument was ridiculous.
The Chief of the Police Bureau immediately protested.
“But the defendant is missing his dagger! Obviously, that’s because he used it to commit the murder!”
“His dagger is missing because it was stolen, not because he used it to commit murder. A moment ago, Your Honor acknowledged that there was no evidence proving his claim was a lie.”
The judge looked as though he had just realized his mistake.
He had casually sustained my earlier objection because he’d assumed the outcome of the trial was already decided. Now that seemingly insignificant ruling had come back to haunt him.
A flash of panic crossed the Chief’s face, but he quickly raised his chin.
“Then how do you explain the fact that the defendant is left-handed?”
I gave a small laugh.
“If you knew how many left-handed people there are in the empire, I doubt you’d be so quick to draw that conclusion.”
A trial wasn't a detective story.
Guilt or innocence had to be determined by clear evidence. Those dramatic scenes where a detective deduced that the culprit was left-handed, or demanded to know why someone had conveniently lost a personal possession at just the wrong moment, and then used those deductions to force a confession?
That sort of thing belonged in a mystery novel featuring Sherl*ck Holmes.
“Surely you aren't planning to identify every left-handed person who attended the banquet that evening as a suspect?”
As I spoke, I lifted my head and glanced toward Lawrence, the male lead of the original novel, seated high above the courtroom.
I'd realized he was left-handed the moment I saw him enter.
The sword bearing the Imperial Family's insignia hung at his right hip.
For an instant, Lawrence's lips twisted into a strange smile.
I pretended not to notice and turned back to the Chief.
Having understood exactly what I was implying—that his argument would make even the Crown Prince a suspect—the Chief merely cleared his throat a few times and fell silent.
But he wasn't ready to surrender.
“The defendant had more than sufficient motive to commit the crime! He was seeking revenge because Her Highness the Crown Princess rejected his affections!”
“If that's the argument you intend to make, I'd like to point out that your entire premise is mistaken. His Highness the Grand Duke has never loved Her Highness the Crown Princess. Therefore, he had no reason to seek revenge.”
Oh dear.
I regarded the Chief with something approaching pity.
He really had chosen the worst possible argument.
Undeterred, he raised several newspapers with a grave expression.
“These are articles reporting scandals concerning the defendant's romantic feelings for Her Highness the Crown Princess! His affection for her is practically common knowledge throughout the empire!”
“Ah. So you're arguing that whatever appears in a newspaper must be true.”
With a heavy thud, I dropped an enormous scrapbook onto the Police Bureau's table.
It was at least ten times thicker than the collection of articles he'd presented.
“Then what do you make of these? By your logic, the contents of these articles would seem to be even more widely accepted as fact.”
They were the fruits of the public-image campaign I'd devoted the past several weeks to conducting.
Evidence could be manufactured.
Once a rumor appeared in a newspaper and was preserved in print, it became a record. And that record became evidence in its own right.
People instinctively trusted the printed word. They believed that stories published in newspapers must be true.
And once enough people believed a story, it naturally became the truth.
Especially when they witnessed something that seemed to confirm it.
“Wasn't it his current wife that Grand Duke Richard was in love with?”
“We saw it ourselves earlier. She publicly declared her love for him right here in the courtroom.”
“Imagine how close they must be for her to say something like that, even in a place like this...”
Just as I'd expected, voices supporting my argument began rising from the spectators.
Having witnessed my earlier declaration of love, they were even more inclined to accept what I was saying.
Besides, people were always more interested in the latest scandal than in one that had already run its course.
“Urgh...”
The Chief could only groan, apparently at a loss for words.
I took a step toward him.
“Now, allow me to ask you once again. Is there any evidence here proving that the defendant murdered the victim?”
A peculiar expression crossed Lawrence's face.
Vivian, seated beside him, merely glared at me with her lips pressed tightly together.
The judge, clearly overwhelmed by this unexpected turn of events, pressed his fingers to his temples and let out a heavy sigh.
At last, the Chief's face turned bright red.
He thrust an accusing finger toward me.
“Listen here! Let's say you're right. Then who, exactly, do you believe committed the murder? If you're so confident, why don't you tell us right here and now?”
I flashed him a confident grin.
“Well... I haven't the faintest idea.”
“What? And yet you have the audacity to insist that the Grand Duke isn't the murderer?”
“Is identifying the real murderer supposed to be my responsibility? I'm merely the Defense Counsel.”
“...!”
“The Police Bureau is the one responsible for finding the culprit.”
“How can you say something so irresponsible? If we simply release a suspect like this, what becomes of justice? Surely anyone standing in a courtroom has a duty to uphold the law and stand on the side of justice!”
At the Chief's furious outburst, I slowly tilted my head.
Then I shrugged.
“I think you've misunderstood something. I'm not on the side of justice. I never have been.”
“Wh-what did you just say...?”
“I'm simply on Grand Duke Richard's side. The man I love so very much.”
It wasn't exactly a lie.
A lawyer was always on the client's side, after all.
And I certainly loved the money my client would pay me.
At that very moment, my eyes met the Grand Duke's.
For some reason, his expression was complicated.
I turned my attention back to the judge.
“Article 17 of the Imperial Constitution states that a finding of guilt must be based on evidence.”
In other words, no judge could convict the Grand Duke under the present circumstances.
Every piece of evidence intended to establish his guilt had been rendered useless.
Looking deeply troubled, the judge stole a glance toward the Crown Prince.
Lawrence's expression had hardened. He summoned an attendant and whispered something into his ear.
Finally, the judge straightened with an expression of grim resolve.
“I will now deliver the verdict.”
Every eye in the courtroom turned toward him.
In a somber voice, he began reading the judgment.
“As the charge that the defendant, Benedict Richard, murdered the victim, Devon Hayden, falls under circumstances in which the alleged criminal act has not been proven, the defendant is hereby ordered released.”
Finally!
Overcome with joy, I instinctively seized the Grand Duke's hand and squeezed it tightly.
A Not Guilty verdict!
An enormous Success Fee!
I could already imagine the wonderfully comfortable life I was going to enjoy in this world once I received my payment.
I was practically overflowing with happiness.
“However.”
What...?
That ominous word brought me up short.
“Given the exceptionally serious nature of this offense and the considerable need to establish the truth...”
The judge had apparently received some message from the Crown Prince's attendant.
He repeatedly wiped the sweat trickling down his forehead.
I stared at him blankly.
“Until the true perpetrator of this crime has been identified, the formal declaration of Not Guilty shall be deferred. Furthermore, the confiscated assets shall not be returned but shall instead be retained as collateral.”
My jaw fell open.
I couldn't believe what I'd just heard.
There's... no property for me to get back?
The world suddenly turned yellow.
Everything spun around me.
And just like that, I fainted.
******
The bedroom was silent and empty except for the two of them.
Benedict sat beside the bed, gazing at Elena's face as she slept so deeply she might have been dead.
“Her constitution is rather delicate, Your Grace. I believe she overexerted herself, and when the tension finally wore off, she lost consciousness. She's simply sleeping now, so there's no need for concern.”
That had been the doctor's diagnosis after examining Elena, who had suddenly collapsed in the courtroom.
Benedict's gaze drifted toward her slender wrist, which lay exposed above the covers.
Faint bluish bruises, not yet fully healed, were visible against her almost unnaturally pale skin.
His brows drew sharply together.
She pushed herself too hard when she wasn't even in good health.
Even for him, a man who had endured countless hardships on the battlefield, the trial had been exhausting.
And unlike the Police Bureau, which had enjoyed the backing of the Imperial Family and the assistance of dozens of people, Elena had fought entirely on her own.
Without a single person to help her.
“And yet, I suppose she won in the end.”
Benedict murmured the words under his breath.
He had originally been facing the Death Penalty.
But now, instead of sitting in a prison cell bound by chains and ropes, he was a free man, sitting in a bedroom at the Grand Duke's residence.
There were conditions attached to his release, of course. But if he was willing to give up his property, the outcome was practically equivalent to an acquittal.
To go this far for my sake...
He knew he needed to maintain a clear boundary with Elena.
But now that he was aware of her feelings, he couldn't help being conscious of her.
That very morning, he'd spent considerably more time than usual grooming himself, all the while rationalizing that it was merely to make a favorable impression at the trial.
Yet the result had been that Elena had fallen for him all over again.
Under the circumstances, he couldn't claim to be entirely blameless.
Worse still, when Elena had gazed at Lawrence so intensely, Benedict's heart had nearly stopped.
For a moment, he'd feared that she had fallen in love with Lawrence at first sight.
After all, Lawrence had always enjoyed a far more favorable position in high society.
The difference between a Crown Prince and an illegitimate son was only natural.
“I wanted to see what was so impressive about him, but he wasn't much to look at.”
Fortunately, Elena apparently found Benedict more attractive than Lawrence.
His illegitimate birth had always caused society to undervalue him, but perhaps he was a reasonably desirable man after all.
At least from his own perspective, he was considerably more masculine than Lawrence.
He certainly had more muscle.
And Elena had ultimately been so overcome by her feelings that she'd declared her love for him in front of everyone.
“I'm simply on Grand Duke Richard's side. The man I love so very much.”
Benedict slowly rubbed his fingers together.
From the moment he was born, there had been no one in the world who stood on his side.
People believed he'd joined the military to win the Emperor's favor.
They were wrong.
The truth was that, on the battlefield, the soldiers who fought beside him were at least on his side.
That knowledge had kept him on those dangerous battlefields.
But Elena had said she was on his side.
And she'd even added the word love.
He could still almost feel the touch of her small hand closing tightly around his when the judge announced his release.
Without realizing it, he reached toward Elena's slender fingers.
Then he abruptly shook his head.
“It would only become a weakness.”
He clenched his hand into a tight fist.
He had no time to indulge in something as frivolous as love.
Every day of his life was a battle. Every day brought another threat.
As though fleeing from his own thoughts, Benedict turned his attention toward the documents on the table.
There lay the Contract he'd entered into with Elena.
I need to end this false relationship as soon as possible. It would be better for her to let go of feelings that can never be returned.
Benedict placed a set of divorce papers, with every section requiring his own information already completed, on top of their Contract.
He dropped them almost carelessly onto the table.
Then, as though making a solemn resolution, he murmured to himself.
“As soon as she wakes up, I'll give her half of my remaining assets and proceed with the divor—”
“No!”
At that very instant, the woman shot upright in bed.