"Well, Professor Manuela?" Rhea asks. We've just spent the past thirty minutes waiting for Catherine and her knights to measure the footprints, while Manuela got her books and measured my height.
Manuela closes the book, takes a deep breath, and shakes her head. Oh no. They're going to incriminate me, aren't they?
"Lady Rhea, the results are—" she hesitates, and I realize it's the first time I've ever heard Manuela speak without her usual confidence "—inconclusive."
"Inconclusive?" Rhea frowns. "Please elaborate, Professor."
"The relationship between stride length and height isn't a perfect one," Manuela begins. "There's some room for variation. We can only really guess with a limited amount of accuracy. The stride length is somewhat longer than you'd expect for someone of Harrison's height, but not enough to say that it's completely impossible."
My gut sinks. This is really bad. I can't believe I was stupid enough to think the footprints would exonerate me that easily. Of course there's variation, and it's not like Goneril is six foot seven or something. Anything short of a massive difference in height is going to be in that gray area. And considering how the trial has gone up until now, there's no doubt that's going to be used against me.
"That makes it perfectly plausible," Catherine says. "Even more so when you consider that someone who's moving quickly—as in, trying to escape with a valuable item—is probably going to have their footprints a little farther apart than normal. The accused could have easily made those tracks!"
"Hold it!" Edelgard replies. "Professor Manuela said the results are inconclusive. That doesn't mean Harrison made them! And don't forget what we established with the tread pattern, either."
Catherine slams her fist on the table. "We haven't established anything with the tread pattern! Harrison could have simply swapped his boots with another pair!"
I sigh and whisper to Edelgard beneath the side conversations of the gallery. "I know you're doing your best, but we're sinking. Fast."
She doesn't reply. I only hear her inhale sharply.
Rhea interjects, silencing the gallery. "Indeed, it appears there is no way to tell for sure whether or not Harrison made the footprints. I thank Professor Manuela for her best efforts, but I am not sure there is any merit continuing down this path further."
Now Edelgard pounds the table with her gloved fists. "Archbishop Rhea, all that Dame Catherine has presented so far is circumstantial evidence. It amounts to nothing, and it hardly points to Harrison."
Catherine folds her arms and smirks. Oh, God. I don't like that glint in her eye. "I agree."
I bite my lip. Edelgard recoils. "You do?"
The High Reeve nods. "Yes. There was a reason I let you look at that and only that yesterday—because this was just the warm-up round. I've got something much more decisive to show."
Right—the other evidence and testimony that she mentioned, but barely elaborated on. Surprise evidence is just another aspect of the unfair system we'll have to roll with.
Rhea nods. "In that case, you may proceed, Dame Catherine. Professor Manuela, you are dismissed. Thank you for your time and assistance."
"Not a problem, Lady Rhea," Manuela says. "I'll stay nearby in case you need me to testify on anything else." Manuela shoots me a sad smile before leaving the stand and blending back in with the rest of the onlookers.
"Now, let's get moving onto something much more compelling," Catherine says. "The assault. We'd like to call the victim, Albert Diels, and an eyewitness, Professor Caius Goneril, to testify to what they saw on the night of the crime."
Two men shuffle forward to the witness stand: Caius Goneril, in his well-kept jacket and trousers, next to a shorter, stout man wearing metal armor. He seems to be maybe in his thirties, with dark grey hair and a short beard. I don't recognize him, but that must be Diels. While Rhea swears the two in, I quietly ask Edelgard a question.
"Two witnesses at once? Is that allowed?"
She nods subtly. "Yes, if the testimonies are directly connected."
Before I can give any follow up, Catherine's commanding voice snaps me out of my thoughts. "Let's start with Mister Diels. Tell us what happened on the night of the crime."
Diels stands at attention. "Yes, Commander Catherine, ma'am!" he says, giving a salute. "I was guarding one of Lady Rhea's private rooms two nights ago, on my assigned shift. All of a sudden, someone snuck up on me from behind and attacked me! They started choking me out, and I did my best to fight back. I don't remember much after that—I passed out from the lack of air. When I came to, Professor Goneril and some of the other knights helped me get back on my feet. That's all I can say."
"Thank you," Catherine says. "Professor Goneril, go ahead."
I take a deep breath. I do not like where this is going. Whatever he's about to say, Goneril is definitely covering something up. I can't tell if Diels is in on it, or just an unwitting pawn. Either way, we'll have to press him for more information, but we might not get the chance if Goneril's lies are impenetrable.
"Of course, Dame Catherine," Goneril says, the unctuousness in his voice palpable. "I was passing by in that vicinity when I saw the accused barreling down the hallway! I was concerned, but afraid to give chase, naturally. So I checked the direction he had come from and found the unconscious Mister Diels, the hapless victim! I alerted the knights immediately and stayed by him until he regained consciousness."
Goneril claims he saw me. Of-fucking-course. I swallow hard. There's no way to disprove that, is there? I want to burst out call him a filthy liar who's doing it just to save his own skin—but without Claude, and without those vials, I can't do anything. I put my fist on the table and dig my nails into my palm.
"Thank you very much for your testimony, Professor Goneril," Catherine says. "Of course, I'm able to confirm that Professor Goneril was indeed the one who notified us at the time of the incident. This eyewitness testimony proves, without any room for doubt—" she emphasizes her statement by pointing a finger in my direction "—that the one who committed the crime is none other than Harrison Weitmann!"
After a bomb like that, I'd expect to hear discussion among the crowd, but nothing. Dead silence. Rhea, for her part, nods. "I see, Dame Catherine. This is damning testimony for the accused."
She's going to just cancel the rest of the trial and hand down the verdict now, isn't she?
Edelgard notices me and gives me a nod before turning to Rhea. "That may be, but all the same, I'd like to question the witnesses now."
"You may do so, Miss Hresvelg," Rhea replies.
Even if Edelgard manages to cast doubt on their statements, I don't know if it will be enough. I never thought it would be. We need Claude, and we need him now.
"I'll start with Mister Diels. First, isn't it your job to protect the Archbishop's chambers? How could you let someone overpower you and break in?"
Diels opens his mouth to answer but Catherine cuts him off. "You don't have to answer that. You're not the one on trial," she says, turning to Edelgard. "Nice try, Your Highness. But his incompetence isn't relevant. Though as an aside, I'll admit I'll have him properly disciplined for his failure."
"That is good to hear, Dame Catherine," Rhea says. "And you are correct. The witness is not on trial. Please keep your questions focused, Miss Hresvelg."
I thought that was a perfectly reasonable question, if a bit hostile, but apparently that's not how things work in Seiros court. And if we can't get the witness on trial—if we can't accuse Goneril—then we might really be stuck. In an actual legal system, the defense only has to establish reasonable doubt, but to the surprise of no one, that's not how it works in Fódlan.
"Understood," Edelgard replies. "I'll move on. I have one simple question for you: could you identify the accused as your attacker?"
"What are you doing!" I whisper. That's a really risky move! What if he just says yes and it's a fucking lie? For a moment, I panic and consider trying to publicly retract it somehow.
"Honestly, I can't," he says. I sigh in relief. "I don't remember much of the fight itself, and the guy snuck up on me from behind. I suppose it must've been him since Professor Goneril said so. But I didn't see his face. I did see that he was wearing a cloak, too."
"A cloak. I see," Edelgard replies. Well, at least it wasn't a full-on lie. And the cloak makes sense if it was Goneril trying to hide his own identity. "I'd like to turn to Professor Goneril. How did you identify the person you saw as the accused if he was wearing a cloak?"
Goneril scoffs. "Well, the hood of the cloak didn't stay on very well considering he was running down the hallway at a full sprint."
An airtight answer. Damn, he's worked this out in advance.
"When you got to the scene of the break-in, how did you know Mister Diels had been assaulted? He could have collapsed onto the floor for any number of reasons."
"The blood, Miss Hresvelg," Goneril says simply, with just a bit too much pleasure in his tone of voice—or maybe I'm imagining it. "It was the blood."
"Blood?" Edelgard and I ask simultaneously.
He gestures to Catherine. "I trust you will be able to elaborate on this?"
"Gladly," Catherine replies. "Once we arrived at the scene, we found Diels's sword unsheathed and lying on the ground, with some blood on the blade and on the ground."
"That is what I saw as well," Goneril says. "It was obvious what had happened. Diels struck back at his attacker and managed to draw blood, but failed to keep up the fight for much longer before his consciousness left him."
Was this the decisive evidence Catherine concealed from Edelgard? It honestly doesn't seem that decisive. Shores up Goneril's story a little bit, I guess. But if Diels was attacked from behind, it might be hard to use a sword effectively, so I'm not buying that it necessarily happened this way. But what the hell do I know about swordfighting? Maybe Diels actually managed to strike back.
"That's what we believe happened as well," Catherine says, nodding.
"Can Mister Diels testify to that?" Edelgard asks. "He didn't mention it in his initial statement." My thoughts exactly.
"To be honest, I don't remember," Diels says. He shrugs. "I'm sorry. My memories after I started getting choked are really fuzzy. But it must be, because that was my sword with the blood on it."
"But Harrison doesn't have any sign of injury on his body," Edelgard says, then turns to me. "Er, unless there's something you're not telling me."
I would laugh if my life wasn't on the line. "No," I say, mustering up the most confidence I can. It's the first time I've spoken since initially contesting the charges. "I haven't been injured—definitely not cut by a sword. I'm willing to be examined if you don't believe me."
"That won't be needed," Catherine replies. "We believe the culprit used a vulnerary or an elixir to cure the wound. After all, the blood was only found right where the assault took place - there were no drops found elsewhere. There would be hardly any trace of the injury."
Of course, it wouldn't be that easy. Goneril's smart enough to have done that, and rich enough to get access to the good shit that'll heal him up without a scratch. Not that I could get anywhere with the argument that I'd be too poor to afford it—I'm being accused of theft, after all.
"You could check his clothes for bloodstains," Edelgard replies.
Catherine shakes her head. "That won't be needed either. You were the one who argued before that anyone could have put on and discarded worker's boots. Couldn't anyone do the same with their clothes? Or are you backing off of that point?"
Edelgard sighs and crosses her arms. "Fine. I concede there."
"Good," Catherine replies. "While you're thinking of another way to stall, I'll deliver the final blow, because there's more to the blood that incriminates Harrison."
Even I can't stop my jaw from dropping. "No…" I mutter. What is she talking about?
"Professor Hanneman tested the blood and found that it belongs to a person without a Crest," she says. "Harrison is a foreigner, so there's no doubt he doesn't have a Crest."
Edelgard and I make eye contact. This is why Catherine called it decisive. If I remember right, Hilda said that her cousin has a Crest of Goneril, so there's no way it could be his blood. There's no way to prove he was at the scene of the crime, and worse, it only points to me!
"Objection!" Edelgard says. "Once again, you are relying on circumstantial evidence, Dame Catherine. The blood could belong to anyone without a Crest, not necessarily Harrison!"
"It confirms the eyewitness testimony of Professor Goneril," Catherine says simply. She smirks and shakes her head. "You don't really have anything more than crying that my evidence is circumstantial. If you think the Professor is mistaken—or worse, lying—then prove it!"
My breathing hitches. That's a challenge to me as much as it is to Edelgard. We can't stall forever, as Catherine ratchets the tension up into high gear. We need to act now. Think, Harrison. Catherine found non-Crested blood at the scene—and we know it's not my blood. There might not be a way to prove Goneril was at the scene after all, but there has to be a way to prove I wasn't.
And then it hits me. It might not work, and I'm certainly reluctant to bring it up considering its implications for who I am and what I am doing here, but it'll definitely buy more time. I have no choice.
I take a deep breath and prepare to speak up.
"Lady Rhea!" I say. Edelgard snaps her head back to look at me and her jaw drops, but she quickly clenches it. "There's a huge problem with what Catherine is asserting. The blood can't be mine and I can prove it!"
"What are you going on about?" Catherine practically shouts. "Lady Rhea, this is just a ploy for time, I assure you."
Rhea doesn't say anything. She turns her gaze towards me, looking me up and down in the same way she did when I first met her. It's no less terrifying, but I have to stand resolute now, or it's all over. She may be an apex predator and I may be a lesser being, but even an animal low on the food chain can fight like hell if it is cornered.
"I'd like to hear the accused out," Rhea says. I suppress the instinctual sigh of relief, doing my best to avoid showing any weakness. "He seems quite sure of himself. If it is just an attempt to stall, I am sure it will reveal itself soon."
Edelgard doesn't speak up, but the question "what are you doing?" is written all over her face. Just trust me, Princess. I might have the smoking gun we need.
"Thank you, Lady Rhea. A few weeks ago, Professor Hanneman tested me for signs of a Crest. He found something unusual—something he'd never seen before—"
"But you're not even from Fódlan!" Catherine blurts out. "There's no way you could have a new Crest! You're making this up!"
I shoot her a glare. "Hang on, I'm not finished with my story!" I say. "You're right, I don't have a new Crest. I don't have anything at all. Professor Hanneman explained it to me like this: even for people who don't have a Crest, his Crest Analyzer gives a particular pattern of signals as the result. But when I got tested, it showed nothing—nothing at all! As if it didn't react to the instrument in any way."
Edelgard furrows her brow, no doubt trying to make sense of all of this. It's not like I can make sense of it either, but it's entirely possible she knows more about Crests and the edge cases involving them than I do.
"But what if there was just a problem with the machine?" Catherine asks. "Or—"
Rhea silences her with a tap from the sword. "There will be no further remarks from Dame Catherine until the accused is finished," she says flatly.
"Thank you, Your Eminence," I reply, trying my best to lay it on thick. "I'll freely admit that it could just be a fluke with the machine. And Professor Hanneman tested my hair, not my blood, so maybe that was a factor somehow. But here and now—in this room—I'll submit to having my blood tested. Bring in Professor Hanneman and have him test me!"
Rhea's severe gaze betrays no information as to her thoughts on the matter, and I begin to doubt myself. I know I'm right, but this must look like some wild histrionics to her. Granted, it is, but there's truth to it, and I don't know if she will be willing to entertain my demand so that I can show that truth.
She abruptly turns to Edelgard. "Miss Hresvelg, were you aware of this?"
Edelgard shakes her head. "It didn't come up, Lady Rhea."
"And as the accused's advocate, what are your thoughts on the matter?" Rhea asks. "Do you second his request for Professor Hanneman to examine his blood?"
My advocate turns to me. I nod as subtly as possible. She turns back to Rhea and pounds the table, almost startling me. "Yes, I do. If Harrison is correct, then it's possible to prove it wasn't his blood on that sword!"
"If?" Catherine sneers without missing a beat. "It's possible? You don't sound very confident in your case. But I don't blame you—I wouldn't be either. Not when he's spouting off things that can't be explained!"
"In that case, getting Professor Hanneman, as an expert in the field, to testify is of the utmost importance," Edelgard says. "I do believe Harrison is telling the truth, but the professor will be the best equipped to clarify all of our questions."
"I, too, have many questions on the subject," Rhea says. "Send for Professor Hanneman and tell him to prepare to test Harrison's blood for a Crest."
Claude knocks on the door urgently, then thinks better of it. He twists the knob and barges in, but Professor Hanneman is not at his desk. In fact, he's not in the room at all, and neither is the Crest Analyzer, that device he kept front and center at all times. Damn!
He looks down at the objects in his hands. The first is the dark, opaque vial that he had already swiped from Professor Goneril's office—an easy target, natch, hardly made more difficult by the fact that Goneril had the bare minimum of sense needed to move the damned things to another hiding spot.
The second is a clear glass jar that Claude transferred the contents of the first into, to get a better look at them. In that container is a viscous liquid, all but transparent yet just slightly off-clear in hue, with an intensely herbal, medicinal aroma. Claude isn't the most familiar with Fódlan's idiosyncratic approach to medicine, but he was still able to recognize the substance as a healing preparation—no doubt one of the more powerful grades, considering the syrupy consistency and strong, sharp odor. Yet that alone wasn't what caught his attention. Claude knew he had to bring the sample to Professor Hanneman when he noticed the strands of hair floating in the solution.
But now the professor is gone, with the machine needed to analyze the evidence missing as well. Not that Claude would be able to operate the thing, much less interpret the results. If those hairs have a Crest, there would be no way for him to make heads or tails of it—Claude has much better things to do than sit around and memorize that silly bunch of symbols. But depending on who they belong to, those hairs could change everything.
Claude checks Professor Manuela's office and the infirmary—no dice. Maybe he's gone for lunch? Or to the library? Claude shakes his head. So many places to search, so little time before the truth might slip out of reach forever.
Hanneman wheels in a cart with the Crest Analyzer sitting on top. The machine that initially seemed so quaint with its knobs and dials and switches now appears almost imposing, as it stands to be the arbiter of my fate.
As Hanneman sets up the device, Manuela walks over to me, readying a needle and a vial. She gives me a strained smile. "Deep breaths, kid. It'll just be a little pinch."
"It's not the needle that's making me nervous," I explain, my voice barely above a whisper, as I extend my arm. "It's what might come out."
Manuela doesn't say anything. I turn and look away as she sticks me. I look over in Edelgard's direction, but to my surprise she herself has turned away too, clutching her own arm. Maybe she's more nervous than I thought—or maybe she's just not very keen on blood drawing and injections and all that, given her own history with this sort of thing.
"All done," Manuela says, and I turn back to find her sealing a vial now filled with my blood. She dabs the site of the draw with a cloth, which stings a little, and hands me a small cup filled with a clear liquid. The odor is floral, herbal, yet faintly medicinal as well. "Drink this."
I'm inclined to ask what it is, but I trust the doctor and I don't want to make more of a scene, so I just throw the thing back like a shot. It tastes like a spice cabinet got mixed up with a bottle of gin - rosemary, coriander and juniper with an alcoholic burn to round it out. I must be making quite a face as the thing travels down my throat, because Manuela laughs.
"Never had a vulnerary before?" she asks while she hands the vial of my blood over to Hanneman.
"Can't say I have," I reply.
"Well, I'm sorry I had to do that to you," she says. "I didn't take that much, but we have to keep that blood flowing. We can't have you fainting on us now, you know."
Maybe it would be easier if I was unconscious, I think, as I look over to see what Hanneman's doing. Having finished setting up the Crest Analyzer, he loads a few drops of the blood into it and activates the device. This is the moment of truth. Is my blood really fucked up, like we thought? I want it to be, so it can save me.
He fiddles with some knobs and switches, but no matter what, the viewing-glass remains completely blank. Hanneman furrows his brow and mutters something that I can't quite make out.
"What does this mean, Professor?" Rhea asks. "Please, enlighten us."
"As you wish, my lady," he says, adjusting his monocle. "As you no doubt know already, this device I have developed—the Crest Analyzer—will show whether an individual has a crest, and if so, which one. To do so, I place a blood or hair sample from the subject in close proximity to a shard of a Hero's Relic. The device detects the magical interaction between the two and allows us to visualize the result. If the individual has a Crest, the sign of the Crest will become clear on this glass here."
This is all review for me—Hanneman explained this to me when he first tested my hair.
"Thank you for the lecture, Professor, but how does that help us?" Catherine asks. "The blood found at the scene didn't have a Crest—or at least, that's what you told me when you examined it."
"I am getting to that point," Hanneman says. "For those without Crests, a completely indistinct pattern is observed on the glass. Think of it like random noise in comparison to a clear note on a violin." He swaps out my blood sample with another, and the random light scattering shows up on the glass. "This is the sample you gave to me yesterday. As you can see, it does not, in fact, bear a Crest."
Hanneman swaps my blood back into the Analyzer, and the light vanishes. I do my best to suppress a smile—the evidence is clear. It's just up to Hanneman and Edelgard to get the argument across the finish line, despite Catherine's best efforts to obstruct it.
"But I cannot see anything on the glass now," Rhea says. "The Crest Analyzer is examining the accused's blood now, is it not?"
"Indeed, Archbishop Rhea," Hanneman replies. "I am getting the same result I found when I tried examining Harrison's hair—nothing, absolutely nothing, as you can see. Complete silence, not random noise. I've never seen anything like it before."
Catherine pounds the table with her fist. "I've said it before and I'll say it again: there's something wrong with your machine," she declares. "That's just—it's just not how Crests work!"
"I recalibrated the instrument after my initial examination of Harrison's hair," Hanneman said. "At first, I also thought it was a random error. But two observations like this, from different sources, and absent any confounding variables, suggest a pattern. There is much we do not understand about Crests—I would not dare say we know for certain how they work."
Now it's Edelgard's turn to go on the attack. She slams the table herself. "The defense is inclined to agree with Professor Hanneman's analysis," she says. "We can see it with our very eyes. Harrison's blood and the blood from the scene of the break-in—they show completely different results on the Crest Analyzer! It couldn't be his blood!"
"This is a flimsy argument," Catherine mutters.
"If you think the Professor is mistaken, then prove it," Edelgard counters. A smirk spreads on her face as she uses Catherine's own line against her. "Harrison submitted to the blood draw and analysis in broad daylight. There's no way he could be faking this result!"
"The defense's argument is compelling," Rhea says. Yes! We've won her over! "The evidence, as explained by Professor Hanneman, seems decisive enough. This is a major hole in your argument, Dame Catherine. Do you still wish to press forward?"
Catherine inhales sharply. She turns to look at Rhea, then me, her stare boring straight into my soul. Even if I'm acquitted, I'm not convinced I won't get run through by Thunderbrand anyway. "Your Eminence, I—"
"Damn you!" Goneril interrupts. "I know what I saw, and I saw him running away from the scene!" He points to me. "And if for some reason you still believe this farce with the blood proves he's innocent, I have plenty of other reasons to have suspected him in the first place! This man is a criminal and an enemy of the Church, through and through!"
"Objection!" Edelgard replies. "We have just demonstrated that the blood of the culprit could not belong to Harrison! Your 'other reasons' are all but irrelevant to the incident at hand!"
Goneril wags his finger at Edelgard. "Are you forgetting that the accused is also charged with conspiracy against the Church? Anything he has done to threaten the integrity of the Church can be grounds for his guilt."
I turn to Edelgard. We had forgotten about that teensy little detail. I'm not sure where Goneril is going with this. Is he going to bring up the vial incident himself as a way to deflect suspicion off of him, and make me look bad? I don't doubt he has a plan to get away, and his involvement in the case has now all but proven to me that he is the true guilty party.
"That's enough, Professor. I'm leading this case, not you," Catherine says. "But he's right. Even if I were to concede that Harrison wasn't at the scene—which I won't—Professor Goneril's other reasons are relevant, but…" Uncharacteristically for Catherine, her voice trails off, as if she wasn't sure how she wanted to finish that sentence when she started it.
"But what?" Edelgard asks.
Rhea ignores their bickering. "Professor Goneril, would you be willing to testify as to your suspicions?" she asks.
"Of course," he replies.
I bite my lip. I don't know if this is something we want. It's not like we're in any position to stop him, considering Rhea herself requested the testimony. He might just pull out more junk that we are in no position to disprove, but if he's going to talk specifics, he may give us enough to work with so that we can shut down his argument completely. Give the man enough rope to hang himself with, as it were.
Catherine holds up a hand. "Lady Rhea, I request a recess before Professor Goneril testifies," she says, sighing. "I admit, I hadn't investigated too deeply into his prior suspicions of the accused. An oversight on my part—the evidence at the crime scene seemed open-and-shut. Still, I must speak with him on the matter before he testifies to the entire tribunal."
"If you believe it necessary, Dame Catherine," Rhea says. "This tribunal is once again in recess. Dame Catherine and Professor Goneril, return here at once when you are ready to proceed. Given that these developments are no doubt unexpected for the accused and his advocate, I will also allow them some time to meet outside this room, under guard. Do not dally."
I exhale sharply as I leave the courtroom. Even though there are plenty of guards monitoring Edelgard and I as we wait here, the temporary reprieve of avoiding Rhea is appreciated. Professor Goneril shoots me a glare as Catherine and the knights escort him away for his private conversation with the High Reeve.
I turn to my advocate and frown. "We were this close," I say, pinching my fingers to emphasize the point. "Look, I'm sorry for going off script on the blood thing, but come on."
"No, no, it's fine," Edelgard says, waving her hand. "I admit I wasn't prepared for that revelation at all. But even so—" she sighs and looks at the floor. "I should be the one apologizing. I've been doing what I can to discredit her logic, but to no avail, it seems."
"That's not your fault," I reply. "I think you made good points, biased as I may be. It's just fucking absurd that he can get away with this. That—" I lower my voice "—she can get away with having her argument hold water about as well as a sieve."
"That it is." Edelgard balls up her hand into a fist. "I suppose we were right. There isn't much we can do without proving that Professor Goneril framed you. And I shouldn't be surprised that Claude abandoned us on that effort."
I furrow my brow. "What, you think he bailed? Why?"
"We've been at this for a while, and there's been no sign of him," she explains. "It was his idea for him to get the evidence we need. Perhaps he never intended to follow through, and the whole time he just meant to be a thorn in my side. Perhaps this is just a game to him."
Her claim catches me off guard. "I'm not so sure," I reply. "I mean, yeah, he's got that whole—I don't know how to describe it—attitude like he's the funniest guy in the room. But can't you tell that he means well?"
"Means well?" Edelgard lowers her voice. "A bold claim considering he proposed presenting stolen evidence."
"For a good cause! If he really wanted to screw us over he'd rat us out."
"You may be right," she replies. "He's certainly bright enough to figure that out."
"I don't know what his reasons are for getting involved," I say, "and to be honest, I don't totally know what yours are either. But when it's my head that might roll, I'm not jumping to question it."
"You're not?"
"I don't have the luxury of doing that," I explain. "The questions can wait until I'm not dead. For now, I believe in you and I believe in Claude. What other choice do I have?"
"I appreciate the vote of confidence," she says. "Whatever Claude does, make no mistake, Harrison: I intend to defend you to the best of my ability. In truth, I do not expect Professor Goneril's new testimony to be very helpful to our case, but I will do what I can."
I nod. "Thank you, Edelgard."
Another voice calls from across the room. "Hey! Janitor man and ace advocate extraordinaire!" I turn around and none other than Claude himself is approaching, as if on cue. He's got a small bag in his hand—are the vials inside?
I smile and try to wave him over as best I can considering the handcuffs. Two guards step to block his path and tell him to stop.
"Hang on, guys," Claude replies. "Look, I'm with the defense team over there. You gotta let me through."
"That's right," Edelgard says, and I nod to back them up. The guards don't budge.
"You can even check with Seteth if you want," Claude adds.
"And what will Seteth say if we ask him?" one of the guards asks.
Claude grins. "That he was there when I was talking with the accused and Her Lawyerliness about the facts of the case yesterday."
The other guard shrugs. "I guess I don't see the harm in letting them talk. If the Holy Chamberlain really does know what this is all about, I don't want to get my pay docked again for getting in the way."
The first guard sighs and steps aside. "Alright, kid. You can talk with them. But don't try anything clever, okay? That goes for you too, Weitmann."
"Understood," I reply. "Thank you, sir."
Edelgard rolls her eyes as Claude saunters over. "Her Lawyerliness," she mutters. "I should call you—"
"Come on," I interrupt. "This is no time for that. Claude, what's the good word?"
"I was just going to get to that," he says. He slaps the bag he's holding. "This baby just might be what we need to win."
"So you recovered the objects of interest?" Edelgard asks. "It certainly took you a while."
"I came here as fast as I could," Claude protests. "When I found what was inside, I wanted to check something with Professor Hanneman before jumping to conclusions or anything. But I heard he'd been called in to testify at the trial."
"That's correct," Edelgard says. She puts a hand on her chin. "But what did you find that made you wish to consult with him?"
"Get this," Claude says. "Inside the vials, there's some kind of healing solution, I think, like an elixir. But what's more, there's hairs floating in them."
"Hair?" I repeat.
"You heard me right," Claude says. His smile fades. "I don't know what it means or who those hairs belong to. But they must be important to this guy, because he's doing everything he can to get you killed for stumbling on them. These have to be the key to understanding everything."
I take a deep breath, wracking my brain for some kind of answer, but come up blank. We've found what was in those vials all along, but it only raises questions than answers. All sorts of possibilities race through my mind. Is Goneril stalking someone? Creepy mementos from a murder victim?
"Well, your first instinct was right, Claude. We need to get Professor Hanneman to analyze those hairs," Edelgard says. "If they have a Crest, that will narrow down who it could belong to."
"Yeah, but what if they don't?" he replies.
"I'm not sure it matters," I reply. "Maybe it'll help clear up what's really going on. But whatever the truth is, we've got our weapon that will blow a hole in whatever he has to say. We can establish a motive for him to frame me for the crime."
Edelgard folds her arms. "You seem like you have a plan."
I nod. "Your job, Edelgard, is to find the right time to flip the script and present that motive. Claude, I hope you have a believable story for how you found that thing, because I don't want you getting executed for theft, too."
"Believe me, I don't want that, either," he says. "What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to watch out for any more contradictions coming out of his lying mouth," I say.
Edelgard nods. "Very well. Together, we won't fail."
I certainly hope so.
Shortly after, the guards escort us back into the room. Edelgard and I take our places at the defense table while Claude joins the gallery with no issue.
Rhea taps the floor with her sword. "Professor Goneril, do you swear to tell the truth, in accordance with the goddess's eternal commandments?" she asks.
"I swear," he replies.
"You may begin your testimony"
"Thank you, Lady Rhea," he says. "I hope by the time I am through, you will all see why I was so suspicious of the accused to begin with—and why he is no doubt the one responsible for this crime.
"My first observation of truly suspicious behavior from Harrison was at the new year's festival. I observed Harrison, alone and away from the main celebration. I grew concerned, and followed him sneaking away into the mostly unoccupied halls of the monastery."
Okay, we must really have him on the ropes, because he's just spitting straight lies.
Goneril continues. "I saw him looking around on the upper floors. He was trying to pick the locks of the chambers of many senior Church officials, and even the Archbishop herself. He attempted to use a skewer from the dining hall for this task—to no avail, of course."
No one says anything, and I look to Goneril, then to Rhea. Her eyes narrow towards him—is she coming to suspect him too, with such a blatant lie?
"Professor Goneril, may I ask you a question?" she says. "After you saw this, why did you not report it to the knights right away?"
I never thought I'd say this given the circumstances, but well done, Rhea.
"Ah, allow me to explain," he says, adjusting his jacket. "I could not completely stake my suspicions on one small incident such as this—I needed confirmation. So soon after, I invited Harrison to clean my office, to observe his behavior. Sure enough, when I left him alone, he dug through the contents of my cabinets! But before I could report this all to the knights, the unfortunate events at Her Eminence's chambers transpired, and that brings us up to date."
"Dame Catherine," Rhea says. "Did Professor Goneril inform you of these prior incidents during your investigation?"
"We did speak briefly about the incident in his office," Catherine explains. "We questioned Professor Manuela and Prince Dimitri of the Blue Lions, who were nearby when it happened. They are both present with us here now—they can confirm that story. As for the incident at the New Year's celebration… I'm afraid the recess just a few minutes ago is the first I've heard of it, either."
"It didn't seem relevant at the time," Goneril says.
"Didn't seem relevant?" Edelgard recoils with indignation.
Goneril just shakes his head. "Had I known it would come to this, I would have acted sooner and more decisively. But Dame Catherine wanted to keep the discussion focused on the actual break-in, not attempted crimes. My apologies."
"Attempted theft is a crime too, Professor," Catherine says.
"That it is. Yet in any case, I must thank you for coming forward now, Professor," Rhea says. "Any further comments?"
"I would like to once again reiterate that the man over there—" he points to me "—is the one responsible for all of this. He has targeted me and he has targeted you, Archbishop Rhea. He is a thief, a criminal, and a conspirator against the Church and he must be stopped, now!"
Rhea nods slowly. "Miss Hresvelg, are you ready to question the witness?"
"I would like nothing more," Edelgard replies.
I take a moment to think about everything Goneril's said. Obviously the office incident is our route into discussing the vials, but do I have anything when it comes to his lies about what happened on New Years'? He didn't even bring that up to Catherine, so it must be a real last-ditch effort, a massive bluff. But there's no way to get anyone to confirm my alibi for the whole night. Unless I don't need someone, I need something that can show what doesn't sit right.
"Professor Goneril, I have a question, actually," I say. "You claimed to see me trying to pick a lock with a skewer from the dining hall?"
"I witnessed it with my very eyes," he replies. "Do not even attempt to claim otherwise!"
"What material was the skewer?"
"Are you daft?" he asks. "It was metal."
Got him. "That's impossible!" I reply. "All the utensils we set up for the New Year's celebration were wooden—even the skewers! I know, because I set it up! Get Cyril here, he'll back it up!"
"You—I can't—" Goneril says, struggling to get a complete sentence out. "This is ridiculous!"
Rhea furrows her brow ever so slightly, and taps the sword against the floor twice, silencing him. "Cyril is with us, is he not?" she asks, her voice remaining unwavering. "Let us call him to testify."
Catherine shakes her head and sighs. "Cyril, come up here," she says.
He dutifully stands up and joins Caius Goneril. Rhea swears him in just like the others before.
"Is what Harrison says correct?" Rhea asks. "Were wooden utensils, not metal ones, used on the night of the New Years celebration?"
Cyril glances at me, then back at Rhea. He nods. "That's right, Lady Rhea."
Rhea says nothing for a moment. "Thank you, Cyril. You are dismissed." Cyril bows and returns to his spot towards the back as the archbishop turns to Professor Goneril.
Goneril frowns. "Your Eminence, with all due respect, this proves nothing! He—he could have just stolen it another time and used it when I saw him! Or for all I know, it could have been an actual lockpick I saw!"
"I don't understand why you wouldn't claim that from the beginning," I reply. If you're lying, might as well make it the most logical and straightforward lie possible. Does he think making up more details will make it more convincing? That's clearly not working so well for him.
"Because I was unsure," Goneril replies.
"I believe we've exhausted this line of inquiry," Edelgard says. "I'd like to move on to discussing the incident at Professor Goneril's office. Dame Catherine, when you spoke with Professor Manuela and the other student, what exactly did they confirm?" she asks.
"That Professor Goneril left Harrison alone while cleaning his office, that they heard a crashing noise, and found the accused there, admitting to knocking over one of Professor Goneril's drawers," Catherine answers.
"So the accused admitted to doing so," Rhea says, turning to me. "Do you maintain this version of events?"
"I admit I knocked over the drawer, but it was an accident," I reply.
"You were searching my things!" Goneril replies. "For valuables, or compromising material, or—Goddess, I don't know!"
Compromising material, indeed. I don't know what these hairs are, but they'd better compromise you enough to take you down, you filthy, lying creep.
"And we are back to the same impasse we've been in for quite some time," Edelgard says. "Archbishop Rhea, Dame Catherine. Allow me a moment to propose an argument."
"Go ahead, Miss Hresvelg," Rhea says.
She glances back at me and I nod, taking a deep breath. Here it is. She knows the best thing to do now is to push right until the bitter end. This is the final offensive.
"So far, we have considered several pieces of evidence: the footprints, the stride length, the blood on Mister Diels's sword. The former two are inconclusive, while the latter definitely points away from Harrison's presence at the scene. When it comes to the testimony, it is only Professor Goneril who has an incriminating eyewitness account. But despite describing these incidents in copious detail, the evidence hardly seems to support his story in any case."
Edelgard slams the table again. "Let us also consider that, as Dame Catherine said, the headpiece has not been found, nor has any money from a possible sale been found. Would it not make more sense for Harrison to have stolen the headpiece and escaped? Or sold it immediately? Individually, all these inconsistencies may mean little. But taken together, they cannot be ignored. These oddities can be explained all at once with one simple deduction: Harrison is being framed for these crimes! And the one responsible is none other than Professor Goneril!"
I would expect animated discussion from the onlookers, but there is nothing other than dead, stunned silence. Goneril's face screws up in a bitter disgust the likes of which I have never seen before.
"This is a very grave accusation to be making against a sitting professor, Miss Hresvelg," Rhea says. "Are you sure you wish to proceed? Even despite your standing, there will be consequences if you are incorrect."
"I am confident that we will find the truth," she replies. We. Me and her and Claude.
"Confidence is all well and good, but it needs to be supported by logic and evidence," Catherine says.
"I agree with Dame Catherine," Goneril says. "I would expect the Imperial princess to know better than to make such absurd leaps of logic like this. Pray tell, can you even establish a motive for why I would do such a thing? Why would I waste my time?"
Edelgard can't hold back a smirk, and I see Goneril's poise falter. "I'm about to do just that," she says. "We would like to call Claude von Riegan as a witness, and to present new evidence that he has uncovered."
"Lady Rhea!" Goneril protests. "This is against standard procedure. You cannot entertain this mockery of justice!"
"There has been nothing standard about this whole trial!" Edelgard retorts.
Rhea taps her sword to silence them. "Dame Catherine," she says. "Do you approve of Miss Hresvelg's suggestion? Shall we call Mister Riegan and hear his testimony and evidence?"
I can't believe Rhea is leaving it up to Catherine to decide whether we nail this guy or not. Catherine, who has been working this whole time to end me.
She closes her eyes and sighs. "Lady Rhea, I defer to your judgement. You are the ultimate authority here."
Rhea remains quiet for a moment, then nods. "You may proceed, Miss Hresvelg. Is Mister Riegan ready to testify?"
"Yes, ma'am," Claude calls from the gallery, not even waiting for a formal instruction to get up and walk to the front. He stands next to Professor Goneril, who immediately glares daggers at his own student.
"Riegan," he hisses. "Do you understand what you're doing?"
"Nope, not completely," Claude replies. "But you do."
"Claude von Riegan," Rhea begins. "Do you swear to tell the truth in accordance with the goddess's eternal commandments?"
"I do," he says.
"Then you may begin."
"Thank you," Claude says. "Actually, I have a question for Harrison first. When you had that little mishap at Professor Goneril's office, did you happen to take a look inside the drawer you knocked over?"
I think I know where Claude's going with this. "Yes," I reply, but before I can continue, Goneril cuts me off.
"See! He admits to it! He admits to searching through my belongings! Thief!"
"Silence, Professor!" Rhea admonishes. "The defense and their witness may continue."
"I admit to briefly going through the things to make sure nothing broke," I say, as slowly and carefully. "I put everything back in its proper place. I admit that I didn't say anything to Professor Goneril and I probably should have. But I didn't steal anything, and I wasn't trying to dig through his things."
"This better be going somewhere relevant," Catherine interjects.
"Patience, patience," Claude says. "So you did get a look at what was inside—anything interesting? Anything worth, I don't know, committing a crime and framing you over?"
"Well, it was mostly just books and papers and so on. But in the back, there were these weird dark vials—nothing I've ever seen anything like. But I have no idea what they were."
Claude nods. "Thanks, Harrison. Now, you see, he told Her Highness and me all this yesterday. I was intrigued, so I thought I'd go take a look around the monastery here and there to see if there was anything like it. And what did I find in the Golden Deer classroom but—" Claude takes out a vial from his bag, and Goneril yells.
Wait, the classroom? Is that part of Claude's cover story?
"Lies and slander! None of these vials existed!" he shouts. "I'm being set up! You and that pegasus excrement of a servant are working to ruin me!"
"I haven't even gotten to what I found inside," Claude says, his attitude ever-unflappable.
"That doesn't matter!" Goneril continues. "You said you found those in the classroom, yes? If whatever's inside is so valuable, why would I move them there and leave them in the open?"
"Because you knew Harrison saw them, so they had to be moved from the office in case he told anyone," Claude replies. "Not like I went into your office, mind you. Lining them up with other healing supplies was clever, but not good enough. Maybe it would have been if your plot to silence Harrison forever succeeded."
"Professor Goneril, there will be no more outbursts, or I will have you removed from this tribunal," Rhea says.
That shuts him up quickly. "Thanks, Lady Rhea," Claude says. "Now let me move on to the best part. Inside those vials—" he holds up a clear jar with the contents of the vials "—are hairs, preserved in a healing solution. Who they belong to, what they mean—that, I have no idea."
Goneril runs a hand through his pink hair and opens his mouth, but says nothing. I take a breath to steady myself. The cards are all on the table now.
"I would like to request that Professor Hanneman analyze the hairs for a Crest," Edelgard says.
"Dame Catherine," Goneril says, desperately trying to keep his tone calm, "is that truly necessary? Yes, I divide vulneraries and elixirs into those small vials from time to time, but those hairs—this is nothing but a fabrication! Examining it is a waste of time!"
"A waste of time? Hardly," Edelgard counters. "Crest analysis will not tell us the whole story, but there is a chance we may learn something from it."
Catherine turns from Goneril to Rhea. "I agree," she says. Well that's a surprise, but I'm glad that she's starting to see the light. "Professor Hanneman! Ready the Crest Analyzer."
My breath hitches as Hanneman sets up the device once more. I'm not completely sure why. I mean, we've really got Goneril on the defense now, and Rhea and Catherine don't seem to be questioning Claude's involvement. Even though it'll probably tell us nothing useful, I still get the feeling that whatever we find here will complicate the case even more.
Hanneman lowers the hair into the Crest Analyzer with a pair of forceps and adjusts a knob. The unmistakable image of a Crest materializes on the viewing glass: a circle surrounded by a sort-of crosshair shape.
"A Minor Crest of Goneril," Hanneman says. He turns to Caius and stares him up and down. "But that's your Crest, Caius."
"Er, I'm afraid I don't understand," Goneril replies. I don't understand, either. "I tell you, this must be a set-up, I swear it!"
Claude folds his arms. "If you're doing something to Hilda…" his voice trails off. Even he must realize that's kind of absurd, right? I mean, he could be stalking his own family, but I don't think he's ever shown much regard for Hilda as far as I can see—she says she barely knows the guy.
Edelgard slams her hands on the table. "Professor, whose hairs are those?"
"I haven't the faintest idea," he protests. "I can't believe you're claiming those belong to me! I'm the one being framed!" He points towards himself, and I can see the sweat forming on his brow. With how fast this is crashing in on him, he's losing his composure and his noble diction very quickly.
Wait, he is really changing the way he speaks, now that I notice it. And when I think over what Hilda told me once more, it all clicks.
"I've got it," I exclaim. "I know who the hairs belong to—and why you had to frame me for this crime."
"Lies! Everything you're saying—it's all lies!"
I ignore him. "Those hairs belong to Caius Goneril. The real one," I say. I muster up my best Ace Attorney and point right at the good Professor himself. "I don't know who the hell you are, but you're not him! You're a convincing fake at best!"
Now the animated discussion begins in the gallery—even Edelgard's jaw drops, while Claude looks on with that satisfied smirk. Goneril laughs, but it's forced and shallow, as Rhea fruitlessly tries to call for order.
Goneril's roaring voice cuts through the noise. "Prove it!" he says. "Prove your wild claim or die trying!"
"Harrison—" Edelgard says, but I don't listen. I have to keep pressing on!
I relax my arms. "Maybe I can't prove it decisively. But this explanation makes all the facts line up cleanly, doesn't it? Hilda, of House Goneril, said her cousin Caius has—had, I don't know—a Minor Crest of Goneril, but grew up in poor health. Then he vanished until he became a professor. You don't have a Crest, but you were able to assume his identity, and use his hairs to trick Professor Hanneman into confirming your Minor Crest of Goneril.
"You kept the secret pretty well until I came along. You really didn't want me to clean your office, or to leave me unattended—but I guess you must have relented so as not to seem too suspicious. And then I accidentally stumbled onto those vials. You feared I had seen them because you could tell I had knocked over the cabinet, so you decided drastic measures were necessary to get rid of me. You broke into the Archbishop's chambers. You knocked out Albert Diels. You stole Lady Rhea's headdress. You put on worker's boots to make it look like I did it, and when your blood got on that sword, you didn't bother to clean it.
"Because blood without a Crest—your blood—at the scene of the crime would look exonerating, since Professor Goneril is supposed to have a Crest of Goneril. And there's no way I, a simple servant, would have one. It would've worked if I wasn't the aberration that I am. But now your carefully woven plan can only point back to one person: you."
Goneril is speechless as he reels from my impromptu tirade. "I—you—" He struggles to get the words out. "You haven't proven a damn thing!"
I exhale a sharp, heavy breath. He's completely right, unfortunately. The facts do line up, and I know I'm right, but there's no smoking gun.
"Professor Goneril," Edelgard says. "If Harrison's assertions are untrue, you can disprove them very quickly. Have your blood tested here and now! If you have a Crest of Goneril, then we will concede this argument."
She's got him! You might be able to pull a Gattaca stunt and pass off another man's hair as your own, but blood is going to be damn near impossible to fake!
"Dame Catherine! Lady Rhea! Put a stop to this!" he says. "You can't take the word of this commoner fool over me! Caius Alberic Goneril, son of—"
Catherine shakes her head, stopping him in his tracks. She puts a hand on Thunderbrand's hilt. "Goneril—whoever you are. Let Manuela draw your blood voluntarily, or I'll retrieve some by force," she says.
"Gah," Goneril chokes out. I clench my fists and tense up, waiting for him to fight back—or at least, to detransform into his true form as a member of Those Who Slither in the Dark. He must be with them, at least I assume, but he doesn't.
His eyes dart across the room as hand grabs his ascot and pulls tighter and tighter. Suddenly, he stops and dashes straight ahead.
"Guards!" Catherine calls out. But Goneril doesn't get more than a yard before he trips and falls to the ground right in front of Claude.
"No need to thank me," Claude says. He tripped him!
The soldiers snap into action and surround Goneril, swords drawn. He picks himself up on his knees, facing Rhea, but his eyes on the floor.
"I beg you, Lady Rhea, Dame Catherine," Goneril says, "I beg you and the goddess for mercy. If I tell the truth now—" He looks up to meet Rhea's severe gaze, then cuts himself off. "It's all true. I am not Caius Alberic Goneril. My name is Ralf, and I am a bastard son of House Goneril. My brother—" he spits the word "—was born weak, but legitimate, and with that damned Crest. I had nothing, all because he had the good fortune to be born to our father's wife, and I didn't."
"Saint Seiros teaches that one must not covet the gifts another has been blessed with," Rhea says. "A Crest is one of the goddess's most valuable gifts."
"I understand I have failed her," Goneril says, with a sum total of zero sincerity. "I was young, and foolish. Back then, I knew I was stronger. And I knew we looked so, so similar. It wasn't hard to do it—to take what was mine. To become Caius Alberic Goneril."
"You killed him?!" Catherine asks.
He nods solemnly. "I took what I thought was mine," he repeats. "Of course, staying too long in his place would arouse too much suspicion, so I came here. I had the proof of my identity preserved with those elixirs. And I don't know if that fool Hanneman remembers, but I had him turn around while I retrieved the hair for him. For the others, acting the part of the spoiled, pompous nobleman would repel any questions, except for you," he says, pointing to me.
"When did I ask you any questions?" I ask.
He gives a dismissive wave. "You kept poking your head into my business. After I admonished you when we first met, I thought that would be the end of it, but you couldn't be deterred. You began helping Manuela and Hanneman, and you insisted on cleaning my office. It was like you knew my secret somehow."
Funny, because he's the only person whose secrets I've had absolutely no clue about.
Goneril continues. "It grew troubling, to say the least. And I did agree to you cleaning my office to throw off your suspicions as best I could. I had not accounted for Riegan's appearance. But no matter—once you saw those vials, I could not sit by anymore. You knew too much, and had to be eliminated."
"I had no idea what those vials were," I reply. "And I never would have until you decided to do all this."
He ignores me. "I strangled Mister Diels. I cut myself with his sword, actually. I broke into Lady Rhea's chambers and I stole her headpiece."
"Where is it?!" Catherine demands.
"I dropped it into the fishing pond."
So it was him after all. And he wasn't even with the Slitherers—at least, this story seems that way. He's just an ordinary psycho who was ready to kill his half-brother for a shot at acting like a noble, and ready to send an innocent man to die to cover it all up.
Rhea sighs. "Thank you for admitting to your crimes," she says. "Stand."
He does as she asks.
"You have confessed to the crimes of murder, fraud, assault, trespassing, theft, and perjury," she says. "The gravity of these crimes constitutes conspiracy against the church in the highest degree. In your own words, you are guilty, so there is no room for debate.
"You are to be stripped of your professorship and imprisoned immediately. Your sentence is death, though I will leave Dame Catherine to carry it out at her discretion. I expect she would like to investigate your possessions further and question you more."
"You can't do this!" he pleads. "I'm begging you!"
"Beseeching the goddess for mercy after such heinous crimes? How sanctimonious," Rhea says. "You have blasphemed the goddess, violated her commandments, and deceived the Church. Execution is only fitting." She taps her sword against the ground. "Guards, restrain him and remove him from my sight."
It only takes moments for the guards to handcuff him and escort him out of the room. In the meantime, Claude makes his way back into the gallery and no one seems to mind.
I take a deep breath and look at Edelgard. I want to jump up and down: we've done it, against all odds! But seeing Caius Goneril—no, Ralf—dragged off like that makes it hard. Does he deserve this after all he's done? I'm not sure. But knowing I was part of it either way leaves a taste in my mouth that I find less than amenable to smiling.
"Harrison Weitmann," Rhea says. "Step forward."
I step before her. There's a lightness in my chest, some combination of hope that this is the end with a residual fear that it isn't. For all I know, she could just execute me too. After all, accusing a professor of crimes - even if he was guilty of them and more—is trying to undermine the Church, isn't it?
"The former professor has admitted to all the crimes of which you have been accused," she says. "Therefore, I see no reason to prolong this tribunal. Dame Catherine, Miss Hresvelg. Do you have any further comments?"
"Nothing here," Catherine says, and thank God for it.
"The defense has nothing to add," Edelgard says.
"I would like to thank you, Edelgard, and Claude," Rhea says. "It is by your efforts that a true enemy of the Church was uncovered and eliminated. The Empire and the Alliance are blessed to have heirs so committed to the pursuit of true justice."
"Thanks, Lady Rhea," Claude says.
"Thank you," Edelgard replies.
"Now then, Harrison Weitmann," Rhea continues. "You are hereby acquitted of all charges and are to be released immediately." She taps her sword against the ground. "This tribunal is adjourned!"
It's over.
A/N: Thank you all for being patient with this chapter, as I've been dealing with life things like graduating and starting working. I hope it delivered on your expectations! Thanks as always to TDB for beta reading as well as RedXEagl3 for helping with a guest beta read. Your out-of-context TDB quote for today is "You leave the Quebequois alone!" And as always, thanks to everyone for the reviews, favorites, and follows!
Come hang out on our Discord server with TDB and Syn and me: discord . gg / A27Ngyj (remove spaces). I can also be found occasionally at the Fanfiction Treehouse server, discord . gg / 9XG3U7a - Hope to see you guys around!
Review responses:
Rationalism - Thanks for the review!
Bomg - Look, if you want these 10k chonkers of chapters, they're gonna take a while. Them's the breaks. I hope this chapter delivered on the suspense though!
DOOT76 - That made me laugh, thanks for the review!
DemonRaily - With regards to Catherine, that's an interesting thought. I think at the end of the day no matter what she's going to just go berserk at anything potentially threatening Rhea. That's a huge part of her character.
Quzix - Thanks for the review! Yeah, given our examples of how canon handles the punishment of those who act against the Church (see: Lonato's army; Christophe), there's definitely not a lot of room for leniency and fair procedure, despite the best efforts of some of our main characters. In the end, whoever you side with, the corruptions and injustices of the system - the Church, the nobility, and the whole institution around Crests, which all play a big part in this case - can't be overlooked.
Kovaras - Thank you so much for the detailed review! Don't worry, I'm excited to get to the fallout as well. You will have a lot to look forward to in the coming chapters! Not confirming any or all of what you've said, but those are all very interesting ideas and I love the way you're thinking.
Dandaman5 - Thanks for the review!
whitefri2z - Look, you don't know what you need till someone gives it to you.
Maronmario - I hope this chapter delivered!
Cavik - Well, that's certainly a prediction, though he's going to have to keep it quiet for now if he wants to keep his job!
Takedo - Thanks for the review! I hope I delivered on your wish, haha.
FlamelessRider - Thank you so much!
Heavenschoir - As I've said to another reviewer, I can't crank these giant chapters out that fast, and I have a life, too. We'll get there when we get there. You shouldn't worry. I'm not worried.
Firefly - Thank you so much for the detailed review! All of your points are well taken, and I hope you found them also addressed in this trial. You're right that all those little points are things Catherine overlooked with her bias to believe the noble Professor over the suspicious commoner, especially when Rhea's safety is on the line.
Mr. War - Thanks for the review! Well, I don't really want to confirm any of your predictions, they're just predictions, but they are interesting! And this is minor but I think it's funny that you pose it as a choice to "get executed on false charges to preserve the canon." Man, I don't think anyone would take that choice. It's not like he knows the outcome of his life or death in advance and could make some fully-informed decision to sacrifice himself... maybe I'm just very selfish.
Guest - Thanks for the review!
jonathan11197 - Thank you so much!
Scoolio - Well, I hope you can relax now!
Tindle - I like to defy expectations.
Call Brig On Over - You'll have to wait a bit longer for the fallout, but those are interesting predictions! You'll have to see!
Axel363402 - I dare to be different.
DarwenGwein - Ahaha, you were definitely jumping the gun there. And that's a very interesting thought. We'll see how the academy adapts when they're down one professor! Though I'm glad you picked up on the "Edelgard is trying to install Jeritza by chasing away [or killing] the third professor" fanon. That has always made a lot of sense to me so it'll be what I'm rolling with in the story (and will probably make explicit sooner or later).
Lady Vanatos - I'm glad you consider this story fantastic!
Remvis - Thanks for the review! Those are interesting thoughts... have they been changed at all by the events of this chapter?