24.
All the more so when it was trouble of his own making…
Viscount Courtney swallowed hard and said,
“…Your Grace, if you will put it in writing here and now, I will see to it that my son delivers the evidence and affidavit you demand.”
Ash’s lips curled at the sheer audacity.
“And are you in any position to demand such a thing of me?”
“B-but… I must have some assurance…”
A sharp glint flickered in the duke’s eyes, the faintest distortion of his gaze.
One more word, and even this desperate lifeline might vanish without a trace.
The viscount had no choice but to lower his tail.
“…I understand.
I will follow Your Grace’s will—only, I beg you to honor your word.”
Ash inclined his head once, then flicked his hand in dismissal.
The viscount hastily gathered the papers before him, as though clutching them might erase his crimes.
Futile, ridiculous—nothing could undo what he had done.
“That poor fool,” Hoshi murmured, watching the viscount scurry away.
“He thinks he’s bought time for his family, selling off his second son’s future without even realizing it…”
“Stupid enough to play such tricks, he deserves what’s coming,” Ash muttered through clenched teeth.
The full extent of the damage Courtney had caused was not yet calculated, but it was certainly no small sum.
He had merely delayed demanding repayment—for to demand it outright was to let the man choose how he would die.
But he had no intention of shouldering the loss himself.
“And when madam learns of this, she’ll be deeply hurt.”
Ash, rising and habitually straightening his collar, froze at the sound of his aide’s voice.
“She’s been trying so hard to show she’s changed,” Hoshi continued, “and all the while Your Grace is sharpening a knife.
Such a pity.”
He—the very one who had handed Ash the blade—spoke as if sympathizing.
“One must be prepared for any contingency,” Ash replied curtly.
Since the day she had declared she would follow his will,
his wife had worked diligently to prove her transformation.
She had even thrown her own body aside to save him.
Still, one would think he could afford to trust her at least once.
Better to hold a guaranteed countermeasure in hand than be stabbed in the back after trusting and being betrayed.
If he let himself be swept away by petty emotions and failed to prepare a single contingency, how could he possibly keep his position?
“You do have to admit, madam has actually been preparing a remarkable plan.
Don’t you have any faith at all, Your Grace?”
Ash stared at Hoshi as if the question were absurd.
Nonsense.
Had the man forgotten whom he served?
Feeding it to him would only harm me.
Hoshi had surely seen through the strange pang of conscience that had made Ash hesitate over something he would once have handled with eager swiftness.
So of course he kept prodding, smiling as he gauged Ash’s reaction.
Knowing that any reaction would only make him swagger about even more, Ash swallowed his irritation and said casually,
“You never know — it might come in handy after a divorce.”
There was not an ounce of falsehood in that remark.
Although their relationship was strained now, everyone knew how dearly the Chief Justice and the Taylors had once cherished Nina.
Their quarrel had been caused by her past misconduct-if she stopped acting like before, reconciliation would come quickly.
So even if she agreed to a divorce, he judged there was a high chance they’d take revenge.
And how often did one get the chance to seize a weakness in a great house like the Taylors?
Opportunities like that were meant to be taken while they were available.
Hoshi twirled a lock of his white hair between his fingers and smiled meaningfully.
“Perhaps — that remains to be seen, doesn’t it?”
“Seen what?”
Ash watched Hoshi’s smile without comment.
“There is such a thing.”
True to form—thrilled at any whiff of something entertaining—he laughed as if the situation delighted him to no end.
True to form—thrilled at any whiff of something entertaining—he laughed as if the situation delighted him to no end.
***
One of the reasons people shy away from seeking legal counsel lies in the background of the lawyers themselves.
Since the overwhelming majority of them hail from noble families, the sense of superiority and elitism ingrained in their bones inevitably intimidates commoner clients.
But the bigger reason is something else entirely…
“When it’s my money on the line, what does it matter if the lawyer is a noble or a commoner?
The real problem is that legal fees are crushing, and the trial itself is so long and complicated that most people give up before it even begins.”
Money.
That was the heart of it.
“Money…”
Nina tapped her chin with a fingertip, recalling the conversation she’d had with Hoshi around noon.
At first, she had only planned to prepare a talk on what to watch out for during consultations and a few tricks of litigation.
But now it was clear she would have to cover ways to cut down the staggering expenses that came with a lawsuit.
First of all, the consultation fee.
“They asked thirty silver coins for nothing more than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea.”
Thirty silver.
If I were to compare it to modern times, that’s about three hundred thousand won for fifteen, maybe twenty minutes…
Even the most renowned law firms would charge that much only if the consultation lasted at least an hour.
Of course, no noble-born elite would ever value their time cheaply.
Still, the sum was outrageous.
Unless her lecture included not only litigation know-how but also practical methods to cut those costs, it would hardly be worth the effort.
If the average consultation fee really is thirty silver, then I should drop this whole topic and, like everyone else, just lecture about noble etiquette…
Even if she somehow managed to find a way around the consultation fee, what about the retainer and the upfront deposit?
Those would cost far more.
Even people considered well-off would have to brace themselves for bankruptcy once they stepped into a lawsuit.
That made no sense at all.
If only she could find out exactly how much lawyers demanded as retainers depending on the type of case…
But consulting them one by one just to gather that information was physically impossible.
What should she do?
As Nina wrestled with the dilemma, an old memory suddenly resurfaced.
She opened a drawer and rummaged through it, pulling out a ring from her jewelry box.
It was a heavy, masculine band—too plain to suit a lady’s collection of jewels.
The commemorative signet ring her grandfather had received from His Majesty the Emperor the very year he became Chief Justice.
This seal may not carry legal force on its own… but since it was bestowed by the Emperor himself, no lawyer in the Empire would dare dismiss it.
It was the very same ring she had used when she impersonated her grandfather to send a letter to the guardian judge—the letter that had secured her marriage to Ash in the first place.
After all, that signet was proof of the Chief Justice—or his proxy.
…Of course, she had stolen it.
The memory of the disaster it had once caused brought a bitter pang of regret, but only for a moment.
Just once more before I return it to Grandfather—let me use it for something good.
Just as merchants formed guilds, so too did lawyers have their own “association.”
The Bar Association.
It wasn’t quite the same as the modern bar-its purpose and functions were different, but…
Either way, if I appeal to the chairman, I should be able to learn the fair price—or at least the average rate.
Clutching that thought, Nina began drafting a formal petition to the chairman of the Bar Association within the Duchy of Bayern.
No doubt the man had heard all manner of things about her.
The stain on Ash D.
Bayern’s name.
The shame of the Chief Justice’s line, the disgrace of House Taylor…
Since she was asking help from someone already steeped in prejudice against her, she wrote with painstaking care,
every word chosen with scrupulous politeness.
She explained that the request was solely for the upcoming Imperial charity event
—begging for assistance and assuring him that the information would never be used for any private purpose.
As a final touch, to keep her promise to Jenny and Yona, she even asked the chairman to recommend a lawyer suitable for their lawsuits.
By the time she set down her quill, the letter was flawless.
Every necessity accounted for.
“Good.”
Now all that remained was to seal the envelope and send it off.
Nina flexed her aching wrist after the long letter, shaking out the stiffness as she walked toward the desk.
“Hm…?”
That was when she noticed an envelope jutting out slightly from beneath the drawer.
What’s this?
She bent down and picked it up.
Judging by how unfamiliar the envelope looked, she must have dropped it earlier while sorting through her correspondence.
When could this have arrived…?
Curious, she turned it over to check the seal.
“Saint Henige Academy…?”
Wasn’t that the very academy her nephew Ian attended?
Could something have happened to him?
As far as I remember, nothing should have… No, memory can’t be trusted completely.
Hadn’t the Grenville incident resurfaced in her mind by chance, after all?
So what on earth is this about?
Without further hesitation, Nina slid a letter knife beneath the flap and tore it open.
Inside lay a stiff, high-quality card.
[To the Esteemed Guardians,
As the summer recess approaches, Saint Henige Academy is honored to announce the commencement of its 36th Annual Exhibition…]
It was an invitation to the academy’s exhibition.