Chapter 7 - The Trial of the Fallen
Two days after the disastrous Harvest Festival, the High Court of the Realm convened for the final sentencing of House Vane and House Blackwood.
The Citadel’s dungeon court was a cold, ominous room made of dark ironwood and granite. High above sat the King, flanked by Duke Caster and the High Inquisitor.
In the iron cage at the center of the room stood Lord Malachai Vane, Lady Beatrix, and Lord Brandon Blackwood. All three were stripped of their fine velvet and silk, wearing crude gray prisoner robes, their hands bound in heavy iron chains.
Lady Beatrix was weeping hysterically, her eyes red and swollen, while Malachai looked broken, his former arrogance completely crushed by the overwhelming evidence of treason, assassination, and financial corruption.
On the spectator bench sat Lily, accompanied by Captain Gabriel and Master Julian. She wore a simple, dignified dress of deep green, watching the proceedings with quiet, composed eyes. She was no longer the trembling child who begged for mercy on the floor of L’Auberge d’Or. She was a Duchess in the making.
King Aldous stood up, reading from a long parchment scroll.
“For the crimes of high treason, attempted murder of the royal bloodline, conspiracy to commit child slavery, and armed rebellion against the Crown,” the King’s voice boomed, “the Court finds Malachai Vane, Beatrix Vane, and Brandon Blackwood GUILTY on all counts.”
Beatrix let out a piercing shriek, dropping to her knees inside the iron cage. “Mercy, Your Majesty! Mercy! It was my father! He made me do it! I didn't know the girl was a Duchess!”
Malachai glared at his daughter in disgust, but said nothing.
“The punishment for high treason,” King Aldous continued coldly, “is execution by beheading, and the total forfeiture of all lands, wealth, and titles to the Crown.”
Before the King could slam his gavel, Lily stood up from the bench.
“Your Majesty,” her small voice echoed through the iron chamber.
The room went dead silent. King Aldous paused, looking down at the young girl with curiosity. “Speak, Lady Lily.”
Lily walked slowly toward the center of the court, stopping a few paces from the iron cage. Beatrix looked at her through the bars, her eyes wide with desperate, pathetic hope.
“Please, Lily!” Beatrix wept, pressing her hands against the iron. “Save me! You remember me! I was wrong! I will be your servant! I will scrub your floors! Just don't let them kill me!”
Lily looked at Beatrix—the woman who had dragged her by her hair, who had kicked her while she bled in the gravy, who represented every cruel noble who looked down upon the weak.
“Execution is too swift for what you have done,” Lily said, her voice steady and clear. “My mother died in a cold room without medicine because of your father’s greed. I spent years in the dark, hungry and beaten, while you wore silk bought with stolen blood.”
Lily turned to the King, bowing respectfully.
“Your Majesty, I ask that you spare their lives.”
Duke Donald frowned slightly from the high dais, but said nothing, trusting his granddaughter’s judgment.
King Aldous raised an eyebrow. “You ask for mercy for those who sought your death?”
“Not mercy, Your Majesty,” Lily replied, her amber eyes burning with sharp, righteous intelligence. “Justice. Death allows them to escape their shame. Instead, strip House Vane and House Blackwood of every coin, every estate, and every title. Banish them to the northern labor camps—where they will work the iron mines, wearing rough cloth, eating cold stew, and scrubbing stone floors for the rest of their natural lives.”
The courtroom gasped.
To a high noble who had lived in luxury their entire life, being forced to work as a common laborer in the freezing northern mines was a punishment a thousand times worse than the swift edge of an executioner’s axe.
Malachai’s jaw dropped in absolute horror. Beatrix let out a choked gasp and fainted dead away onto the stone floor of the cage.
King Aldous looked at Duke Donald, who slowly nodded with a look of immense pride.
The King slammed his gold gavel down.
“So shall it be!” King Aldous declared. “House Vane and House Blackwood are erased! Their assets are hereby transferred to the Caster Foundation for Orphans and Poor Laborers, under the direct stewardship of Lady Lily von Caster! The prisoners shall be taken to the northern mines at dawn!”
As the guards dragged the wailing, hysterical nobles away, Donald descended from the high dais and walked over to Lily, kneeling beside her.
“You gave them a fate worse than death,” Donald whispered with a soft chuckle.
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“I gave them what they gave me,” Lily answered softly, holding his hand. “Except now, the gold they stole will feed the children who have no home.”
Donald wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Your mother is smiling down on you today, Lily. I know she is.”
