Chapter 173
Chapter 173
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 173
Chapter Title: A Swift Verdict
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In a somewhat gloomy atmosphere, we celebrated Hayes' birthday, and a few days later, it was January 21st.
Just last week, I'd steeled myself for the church to hound me all year long, figuring that even the shortest trial would drag on for months.
"... Considering that Baron Howard disrupted public morals with his vulgar conduct, I sentence him to ten days of monastery service or a fine of one gold."
- Thud, thud, thud!
My heresy case wrapped up so fast it bordered on perfunctory.
It was a relief that they'd gone through the motions of punishment and trial, but I couldn't help doubting whether they'd actually investigated anything properly.
So, as I was leaving the courtroom, I quietly sought out Bishop Bianca to ask.
"Even when we investigated, nothing came up. Your connections are so limited there's barely anything to look into—no friends, hardly any families you associate closely with... When we got the results, I wondered if you were really a noble at all. I even suspected the Earl and Countess Hume might have mistreated you. If you want any peace in the future, you should widen your social circle."
"Y-Yes... Thank you for the advice..."
All I got was a lecture about properly engaging in social activities, so I fled the courtroom like my life depended on it.
"Ugh..."
It stung a little.
Still, I'd dodged a crisis that nearly ended my life, so my mind was at ease.
Crises seemed to hit every few months lately, but that was probably the fate of a superstar.
Phew~ Well, whatever...
- Slap! Slap!
I smacked my cheeks hard to reboot my wandering thoughts.
The mental liberation after so long had made my mind go a bit too slack.
I'd been to jail once in my life, but I'd never dealt with police investigations or trials, so the stress from my first one must have hit extra hard.
It was unavoidable—they hadn't just grabbed me straight from the fields like some farm produce and thrown me in jail like last time.
They'd gone to my family one by one to ask about me, barged into my workplace to interview every employee, hounded my business contacts for anything suspicious, and even tracked down customers to grill them about my clothes.
With everyone around me panicking and asking what was going on, I felt terrible, wondering when the investigation would end.
And when Bishop Bianca said she'd met with His Imperial Majesty, I thought I was done for.
Elizabeth said there was no need to worry, but I didn't know what the emperor and the bishop had discussed, so the moment I heard, my mind went blank and my vision whitened.
Before the investigation, I'd thought I could just brazen it out no matter who came, but now my old self seemed pathetic.
I truly understood why they say never to give anyone a reason to drag you to the station.
But that was all in the past now.
I no longer needed to stir up controversy for publicity, or stretch out in every direction like an octopus to lure in customers.
As long as I stayed smart, nothing like this would happen again.
"Hoo~ Ahh..."
Stretching out my stiff back brought on a faint dizziness.
My body felt hazy and drained in a way that was oddly pleasant yet unpleasant.
Do it too often and it's dizzying, but once in a while, it feels surprisingly good.
More importantly, Emily's birthday is in two days...
I've been too busy this year and haven't prepared anything. What should I do?
Last year I got her shoes, the year before perfume, three years ago a watch—what now?
"Damn it, nothing in my life ever goes smoothly. Seriously..."
Whoever framed me as a heretic, just wait till I catch you—I'll write your name in red on paper ten times in secret.
"Oh crap..."
I jolted and erased the revenge plot from my mind.
I'd nearly let anger turn me into an actual heretic using sinister sorcery.
"Tch..."
Clicking my tongue, I climbed into the carriage parked in front of the courthouse.
Forget what happened—just focus on what's ahead...
"... Considering that Baron Howard disrupted public morals with his vulgar conduct, I sentence him to ten days of monastery service or a fine of one gold." - Thud, thud, thud! The verdict from the trial judge this time, who also served as the Imperial Diocese's Archbishop. A heresy suspicion in the Imperial Capital—the church's equivalent of treason and black magic—that hadn't surfaced in decades, ended on such an anticlimactic note. "Mm..." Marquis Illy, who had witnessed it all from the gallery, let out a groan while desperately fighting to keep his expression from crumbling. He could easily predict such a hollow conclusion. The accusations were absurd, with no evidence. But heresy was lethal on rumors alone—even whispers could trigger brutal investigations for entire families. Getting tangled in heresy suspicions was as good as a death sentence, and clearing them took years—that was common knowledge. Yet that knowledge had just shattered before Marquis Illy's eyes. One month. Not even a year—one month. From overhearing a suspicious conversation, reporting to the church, to the investigation and trial concluding—it had all taken just one month. So rushed it was believable they'd skipped the investigation entirely. "What do we do now...?" The marchioness, who had watched alongside him, whispered in a faintly trembling voice, clutching her husband's hand tightly. They hadn't eliminated a powerful rival. Years of plotting for payback against the scheme had collapsed. And the church's sharp blade, which they'd thought years away, was already at their throats. Marquis Illy's mind was in chaos, but he wasn't so immature as to freeze. 'First, we need to get out of here.' Accustomed to unexpected situations, he took his wife's hand to lead her to a place where he could regain calm and sort his thoughts. "My lady, let's return to the estate first." "And then?" "We'll scout some gravesites." "......" Of course, such actions wouldn't give Marquis Illy many options. Denying knowledge and claiming mere suspicion while minimizing punishment was his only path. He just needed to play his cards right with that sole option. Thus, he hurried toward his mansion. "My lady, mind your expression and your mouth on the way back. Any hint of suspicion, and we're finished." "Understood." To reduce mistakes, he warned his wife to watch her words and forced his trembling legs toward the carriage. "Thomas, the carriage now... Thomas! Damn it, where the hell is that fool...!" The coachman and butler, ordered to wait by the carriage, were nowhere in sight. Ignoring the anxiety crawling up his spine, the marquis yanked open the door. "Oh~" "!" As the door swung open, the marquis's eyes fell on a man lounging inside a stranger's carriage, legs crossed leisurely. "Marquis Illy, why so late? I nearly dozed off waiting." The man, wearing a mask shaped like an owl's face and flashing a sly grin, met the marquis's gaze. He spun a short knife in his left hand, greeting him in a relaxed, familiar tone. "This is..." "Hic...!" Owls from the shadows—the symbol of the 'Intelligence Bureau' that handled all the knights' dirty work. Among them, the Owl was reserved for the leader of the owlets. The marquis and his wife, seasoned high nobles deep in politics, knew the mask all too well and paled, frozen in place. "If it's not too much trouble, do we have time for a leisurely chat? Someone's quite displeased over the Baron Howard business. You got too immersed in the political games and crossed a line." "Th-This incident was all m-me, entirely my doing. My wife knows nothing about it." "Hmm... That's not set in stone yet. Depending on how our talk goes, it might stay your secret alone—or become something my lady knows too." Outcomes hinged not on evidence, but on conversation. A blatant threat: cooperate on our terms, or we'll drag your family in. The marquis bit his lip, shoulders twitching. "... I'll do whatever it takes. Just spare my family, I beg you." "Marquis, hold onto that attitude till the end." "I will." The masked man wiped the smile from his face, peering past the marquis's shoulder with a chilling voice. "Take him away." "Yes." Owl-masked men, who had snuck up behind, seized the marquis's arms and dragged him to a nearby crude carriage. In an instant, only the Owl-masked man and the marchioness remained by the carriage. "Well then, my lady, shall I escort you home safely? Hop in." "N-No...!" "If boarding's too hard, I can assist... but I recommend doing it yourself." The man paused, smirking coldly at the marchioness, rigid like a mouse before a snake. "I like cooperative people." "Hah... Huhk..." A warning—a threat. At his words, she panted like a condemned prisoner marching to the gallows and clambered aboard with effort. - Rattle! The door shut, and a new middle-aged gentleman appeared from nowhere, settling into the driver's seat and taking the reins. "Hyah!" With the gentleman's whip crack, the carriage standing tall in the street glided smoothly forward.