Author's note: My apologies, dear readers. I had not meant for the next chapter to take a semester, but here we are. I am afraid the soon-to-be law student in me went a little overboard on Juliana's trial. When it hit the 10,000 word mark and kept going, it was just a little bit of a hint to that effect. Therefore, I have broken it into two more manageable sections, of which you get this one today. I have taken several liberties with the trial, which are explained (hopefully to your satisfaction) in the note at the beginning of the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it. I sure did. Happy reading, and Happy New Years!
Disclaimer: Narnia is not mine, The End. The random and really, really obscure Star Trek quotes (and name reference) aren't really mine either (yes, I am a tried and true Trekkie. Happy hunting, Fierce!).
Chapter the Twenty-third: Justice Begun
13 Mayblossom 2076, Approximately fifteen miles outside of Anvard.
By sunset of the next day, the party drew near Anvard after spending the day traveling in the lush green woods.
"Do you think we'll reach Anvard tonight, Sir Ferian?" Glyn inquired as the sun began to dip towards the western horizon.
"We are close, but nay, I do not think we should press on. We are not in need of haste, and I daresay the night's rest would do the horses good."
"We are near Barnesdale, are we not?" Lyra asked.
"I believe so, my lady," the knight replied.
"Then let's make camp nearby. There is a visit I would like to make."
"By all means."
By this time, the horses hooves rang against the rocky ridge, and presently the travelers could see the little village spread out in the valley below. One by one, each made his way down the ridge trail. Within a few minutes hooves pounded the worn flagstones of the village square, coming to a stop around the central well. As the group dismounted and began to water the horses, curious townspeople began to stare at the large party of knights, cloaks covered in the dust of many a day's travel. Presently, Lyra handed her horse's reins to her brother, and began to walk towards the little home beside the blacksmith's workshop. Yellow daffodils waved in the breeze along with the curtains at the windows as golden shafts of late afternoon sunlight played upon the landscape. Suddenly, the door opened and a little figure ran out.
"Princess Lyra! Princess Lyra!"
"Brennan! How are you?" Lyra smiled, kneeling in the dirt and hugging the little Archen boy.
"Oh, I feel much better now," he answered happily, but his brow furrowed momentarily. "I heard Mrs. Randal from down the road telling mama that a bad man took you away."
Lyra smiled. "Don't worry, Brennan. He'll not be coming back."
"Did you give them a good clobbering?" Brennan asked excitedly.
"Aye," Lyra laughed, "And a one they'll not soon forget!"
"Good!" The little boy smiled. As they were speaking, Galen quietly approached, and now knelt on the ground next to Lyra.
"How fare you, my young friend?" Galen smiled broadly.
"Sir Galen!" Brennan exclaimed, quickly hugging the Narnian. "Did you give those Calormenes a good dusting too?"
"That we did, by Aslan's grace," Galen laughed.
Before the energetic young boy could ask any more questions, his parents came from the house to join them.
"Princess Lyra, Sir Galen, it is good to see you both! I am glad that all is well," Tira greeted the two, smiling.
"It is wonderful to see you as well!" Lyra answered as she and Galen stood.
"We are on our way back to Anvard and stopped to water the horses. How have you been?" The Narnian greeted.
"Very well, good sir," Tira answered with a smile.
"We have heard many things over the past few days. I thank the Lion that you are returned to us, your highness," Jonas spoke, and Lyra nodded her thanks.
"Perhaps you would share our meal this evening," Tira invited.
"Oh, we would not intrude for all the world," Lyra demurred.
"It is no intrusion, your highness," Tira countered with a smile. "I would not hear of sending you and your companions out into the cold."
"Then we insist on providing the meat," Galen interjected cheerfully, shifting his bow to his left hand and briefly bowing a farewell before retreating to the well. There he gathered the other bowmen and they quickly headed for the woods beyond the village, fitting arrows to the bowstrings as they went.
"Ready, sister?" Ayden approached Lyra and the family as they conversed.
"I'll be staying for a little while, Ayden. Go on ahead and make camp. I'll be back in a little while."
"Alright," the Archen prince answered, "We'll be up on the ridge. I—"
"Your highnesses! Knights of Archenland! We bid you welcome to Barnesdale!" A loud voice interrupted. Lyra and Ayden (as well as their companions) turned around with some measure of annoyance to see the voice's owner. A few paces in front of the well, where the knights were almost finished preparing the horses, a portly man with greying hair stood. He wore a dark blue broadcloth jacket and cloak to match, both accented with silver clasps.
"Thank you, good sir," Ayden answered, stepping forward. "With whom have we the pleasure of speaking?"
"Forgive me, your highness, for not introducing myself sooner. I am Gillis, mayor of Barnesdale, and I would like to welcome your highnesses and your noble companions to our humble village."
"My companions and I are grateful, thank you," Lyra answered politely.
"If your highnesses would come with me to the town hall, we will provide a much more fitting welcome and meal."
"That will not be necessary, Mayor Gillis, although we thank you for the kind offer," Ayden quickly replied.
"Oh, but your highness—"
"Mayor Gillis," Lyra interrupted the insistent man.
"Yes, your highness?"
"That will not be necessary," she reiterated in measured tones, her quiet smile belying the steel behind her blue eyes.
"Yes, your highness," the mayor acquiesced reluctantly. "If your highnesses need anything at all, we are at your disposal," he finished before withdrawing.
After the mayor had walked away, the crowd of villagers who clustered by their doors and murmured to each other began to disperse.
"Ferian," Ayden addressed the knight, "Set up camp on the ridge, wherever you think best. Lyra and I will be along by nightfall. I believe Ewan, Drenan, and Galen went off a-hunting, so they should be back soon as well."
"Of course, my lord," Ferian bowed slightly and within a few minutes' time the knights remounted and rode for ridge.
With the bustle of knights and horses gone, the town was once again quiet as the late-afternoon sun slowly began to duck behind the mountains.
"Please, your highnesses, won't you come in?" Tira motioned hospitably towards the door.
The prince and princess followed the family inside after securing the horses, where Tira quickly bade them sit.
"Please, warm yourselves by the fire," she said. "Perhaps you would care for a cup of tea?"
"Thank you, madam," Ayden answered, drawing a chair close to the fire. "That would be wonderful."
"Yes, thank you," Lyra smiled. "Perhaps today's journey was longer than I thought," she looked towards her brother wearily. "I little realized how cold it was until a moment ago."
Ayden had almost fallen asleep over his tea mug, and Lyra was occupying Brennan with a game when a soft knock sounded at the door. Jonas went to answer, and found Galen standing on the steps holding his bow and a pair of fair sized rabbits.
"If you have a place where you would prefer me to clean them, I'll have the meat ready for cooking in a trice!" The Narnian greeted cheerfully.
"Why, Sir Galen! How very nice. Around back there is a board and water pump, if that will do."
"It will do very well, thank you."
Galen hurried around the house and in a few minutes' time returned with the meat.
"I hope these are satisfactory, my lady," said Galen as he handed Tira the rabbits. "It was the best I could find."
"It's perfect, thank you," the Archenlander smiled. "Please make yourself comfortable," she invited.
Galen took a seat next to the fire, setting his bow and quiver beside him, and Brennan promptly bounced up from the game he was playing with Lyra.
"Sir Galen! What did you find in the woods?"
"All the makings of rabbit stew, I expect," the Narnian replied with a smile.
"Mmm," the little boy's eyes lit up. "Would you like to come play with us?" he asked.
"Sure," Galen replied, and found the next half-hour passed swiftly. Presently, Tira bade them all sit at the table on one side of the room, serving out a large pot of what proved to be a very tasty rabbit stew and hearty slices of crusty bread.
"I'm sure you are used to much finer things, but I hope you all enjoy the meal."
"Nonsense, my lady, this is wonderful! It is our honor to share a meal with you and your family, and you have our thanks," Ayden replied, and the meal continued cheerfully.
Just as the last bits of bread and stew disappeared, an insistent knock sounded at the door.
Tira quickly went to answer. The visitor's harsh tone carried to the ears of those still sitting at the table.
"You have sorely disgraced this town!" The voice bellowed angrily.
"I…" they heard Tira try to interject.
"You would have the crown prince of Archenland and his company share a meal in your lowly home, depriving our town of the opportunities such an important and rare visit entails! What have you to say for yourself?" The voice became angrier as it spoke each word. As it spoke, the countenances of the people of whom it spoke darkened and they quickly stood and hurried to the hallway.
"That is a very good question, Mayor Gillis, and you had best pray you have a very good answer to it," Ayden glowered at the plump man, his tone so heavy with steely anger that it might have silenced the winds of Mount Pire.
"Your highness, I…" the surprised man stammered, his eyes wide at the foreboding looks upon his monarch's faces.
"I little wish to hear your answer," Lyra practically growled. "Nothing could warrant so ill-tempered an outburst and craven insults against anyone."
"I…" Mayor Gillis continued to stammer.
"I will speak with you alone," Ayden cut him off again, pulling the now-frightened mayor aside as he shut the door behind him.
"Explain."
"Your highness, I apologize for the intrusion, I…"
"I do not want your apology, I want your explanation, good mayor," the Archen prince interrupted pointedly as the two walked away from the home.
"Of course," the man said as he swallowed the words he had intended to say. "I must, you understand, look out for the best interests of this village, and I wanted the opportunity to show your highnesses Barnesdale's worth and promise."
"And perhaps avail yourself of the opportunity to suggest a royal improvement project or the like?" Ayden interjected wryly, leaning against the side of the well. The cowed mayor nodded silently.
"Yet, what good do crass insults and ill-temperament do your town and its citizens? Such conduct is unworthy of your office, friend."
"I apologize, your highness," the mayor looked down.
"It is not to ourselves that you owe contrition," Ayden replied. "What is more, good mayor, you have at least succeeded in attracting our attention to this town," he continued. "From this point onward, the Royal Elections Oversight Council will send representatives every year to oversee the procedures of your office and the actions taken under its authority. I advise you to continue in your duties with caution. Good evening."
The Archen prince promptly walked back towards the little house, leaving a very dumfounded mayor in his wake.
"Lyra, we should probably best rejoin our companions momentarily," Ayden said upon reentering the house.
"Agreed," Lyra concurred and Galen nodded his assent as well.
"Thank you very much for the meal," said the Narnian.
"It was wonderful to see you again, my friends," Lyra smiled as she gave Brennan a farewell hug.
"Here, I will fetch your cloaks for you," Jonas hurried to the hall closet as they began to depart. Ayden had brought the horses from behind the house, and Aiolos stood beside them.
"Aslan be with you, friends," Galen bowed.
"And with you also," said Tira.
"Aiolos!" A little voice cut through the air, and Brennan ran out of the house and towards the Narnian Horse. "I wanted to tell you goodbye too! And I've brought you a piece of sugar!"
"Thank you, my little friend," Aiolos whinnied in a sort of horsy chuckle, bending down to nudge the Archen boy with his long head. "Fare thee well."
After each had given their farewells, the company of friends departed the little home, leaving Barnesdale behind as they climbed the ridge that overlooked it. A campfire glimmered in the distance, and after a little while the group reached the top just as the moon began to climb her path from the Eastern Sea. The air was crisp and clear, and from the ridge's summit Galen could see the mountains rising from the hills to the north, their somber grey peaks slicing the star-filled sky. The rest of the Archen knights were gathered around the fire and engaged in singing a jaunty tune of some kind.
"Halt and declare yourself!" A commanding voice spoke as they guided the horses over the last few rocks.
"Calm down, Marin, it is merely us," Lyra calmly replied. The Archen knight came from behind the tree and returned the sword he had drawn to its scabbard.
"Thank you for that, my lady. You nearly scared me out of ten years' growth, popping out of nowhere like that," Sir Marin replied, only to be met with Lyra's laughter and her companions' chuckles.
The late-comers settled in with the rest around the campfire, joining in another round of their tune. A little while passed, and Ferian finally suggested that everyone might get some sleep.
"Of course, Sir Ferian, you are right," Ayden agreed.
"One thing, though, brother. You must tell me what on earth you said to the irritating mayor!"
14 Mayblossom 2076
The next morning passed quickly for Galen as the party covered familiar ground, and before the morning was out they could see the towers of Anvard above the trees. The blacksmith's hammer rang clearly through the early spring air, and many happy welcomes filled the air as the party moved through the town surrounding Anvard.
"The knights have returned!"
"The Princess is with them!"
"Aslan be praised!"
Hushed alarm followed as people noticed the body draped over one of the horses. At last, the weary group reached the courtyard and dismounted. No sooner had their boots hit the ground than the Archen king and queen rushed from the castle doorway to embrace their daughter.
"Lyra, thou art well?"
"Yes, mother," the Archen princess smiled, glancing towards her brother.
"And what of the Calormene prince?" King Lorn asked tersely.
Lyra's countenance darkened and she drew a delicately crafted dagger from the belt at her waist, holding its length in her upturned palm.
"He is dead, and by my hand. I must thank you again for this most useful birthday present."
Her father put an assuring hand on her shoulder, looking to Ayden and Galen.
"What of the Stone Knife, and of the good knights who accompanied you? How fare ye?"
"The Stone Knife is recovered, your majesty," the Narnian knight answered.
"All save one return," Ayden answered solemnly. "Sir Glynan gave his life in service to the Crown."
Sorrowful whispers rippled through the crowd in the courtyard, and the Archen monarchs turned in surprise to the fallen knight's brother, standing nearby holding the bridle of his brother's horse.
"Sir Glyn," the king addressed him, "we will honor Sir Glynan's memory. You have our deepest condolences for this grave loss."
The Archen knight bowed deeply.
By this time, stablehands had taken the horses back to the stables, and the queen indicated they should seek well-deserved food and rest. By this time, the Archen monarchs had noticed the two Calormenes who stood with the returning Archenlanders.
"But who are these in your company?" Queen Layla asked.
"These individuals," Lyra motioned for Emeth and Niusha to approach, "aided me in our escape. This is Niusha, once a servant in the prince's house, and Emeth, once a soldier in the Tisroc's army."
The one-time Calormenes stepped forward and knelt before the king and queen.
"We would humbly ask permission to address your majesties," Emeth spoke.
"Granted, by all means," replied the queen.
"We would request asylum in Archenland," Emeth began.
"Calormen is no longer our home. We wish only to live in freedom and in peace," Niusha finished solemnly. Silence hung in the air for a moment as the Archen monarchs looked to their children.
Ayden inclined his head in assent, as did his sister. The king and queen turned back to the pair before them.
"Then rise and stand as friends. Archenland welcomes you," King Lorn answered, a smile lighting his blue eyes. Niusha and Emeth stood, happiness evident on their faces. He motioned for a nearby servant to approach, and instructed him to see to it that the newest residents of Archenland were given appropriate quarters and necessaries. The queen also gave orders for servants to tend Sir Glynan's body and prepare for a funeral.
After the former Calormenes left, Lyra turned to her parents.
"Ayden told me you found Lady Juliana out as the traitoress she is," the princess's voice held a steely edge as she spoke.
"It was truly she, then?" Queen Layla asked with equal gravity.
"Aye. She lead me into the prince's trap. She, and no other."
"That removes any doubt that yet remained. I will see to it the proper judicial proceedings are begun at once," the king spoke. "Aslan be praised you all have returned well," he continued. "I eagerly anticipate the tale."
"But first you must go and rest and eat and clean up!" Layla insisted, shoeing Ayden and Lyra towards the castle.
As they spoke, Galen had slipped into the castle and found his way up to his room. As he settled back in, shaking the dust of travel from his cloak, he found himself pondering yet again the proper destination for the Knife. While he did not know exactly, he could not deny the pull the sea exerted upon him. It was as if it called him with a sweet and irresistible voice, called the Narnian towards the East and Aslan's Country.
The sound of the heavy wooden door opening awoke the green-clad girl from her half-conscious slumber. She heard a footfall upon the stair, and the maker of the sound came into view through the metal bars of her small but clean cell.
"I made you a promise, Juliana," Lyra's steel-girded voice spoke as she emerged from the stairway's shadows, her hand resting on her sword hilt. The Archen princess had shed her Calormene garb at last in favor of an Archen green dress.
"So, you escaped," Juliana replied icily, standing.
Lyra chuckled wryly. "Indeed." The princess drew a knife from her belt, fingering the blade. "Do you see this dagger, my lady?" She asked the green-clad girl, an edge as hard as her dagger's coloring the princess's voice. "Three days ago it dripped with your Calormene co-conspirator's blood."
Juliana blanched, inadvertently taking a step backwards as Lyra took a step towards the bars that separated them. The princess turned the knife around in her hand and grasped it menacingly by the hilt.
"Please," the girl's eye's widened in fear.
"You are in a position to demand nothing, my lady, and there is precious little preventing me from driving this knife through your heart as well."
Juliana took a sharp breath as Lyra leaned forward, her eyes flashing in anger. But the Archen princess returned the knife to its sheath.
"Know this— in another time and place, this blade would have slain you as well. However, the sovereign laws of Archenland, the very laws which you have so grievously betrayed, protect you now. Think on this, and on the morrow be prepared to face those laws before the High Court."
The evening came, and dusk's purple hues found Galen standing on the northeast turret, staring off towards Aravir's shining light. A soft footstep sounded on the stair behind him, and he briefly glanced toward it before turning back to the sunset. Lyra, clad in a deep purple gown, leaned against the parapet next to him, looking towards the sky as the last rays of sunlight glanced off the golden circlet she wore.
"Art alright, my friend?" She lay a hand on the shoulder of the Narnian's velvet tunic.
"Aye, all is well," Galen quietly replied.
"And yet something troubles you."
The Narnian sighed. "I feel as though I am lacking something. Something I ought to know, but do not. The only way I could describe it is that I feel the sea, Aravir and the east, calling me to come, yet a hazy veil of clouds dims the horizon."
Lyra nodded understandingly. "A dawn will come." She smiled reassuringly. "It always does."
Galen smiled. "Aye. Perhaps I leave too much to pondering," the Narnian stopped leaning against the wall and straightened. "If I was not mistaken, this evening's dinner is in my lady's honor," the young knight offered his arm with a teasing twinkle in his eye. "T'would be a pity if she missed it."
"To Princess Lyra!" the many voices in the hall declared, their upraised glasses in hand. Lyra nodded politely in acknowledgement. The entire court had assembled for the banquet, dressed in their finest evening attire to celebrate her return. Galen sat beside Lyra on one side, her brother on the other beside the king and queen. As they ate, they each found themselves besieged with questions from curious courtiers.
"How did you escape?" asked one.
"How did you get captured?" asked another.
"Was it really Prince Karim? He seemed so courteous," one girl remarked as Lyra and the knights in the party began to expound upon the particulars of the capture, rescue, and escape.
"I assure you, my lady," Lyra scoffed. "He was anything but courteous."
"Sir Galen, did you recover the Stone Knife?" asked Lord Trelain.
"Yes, I did, by Aslan's grace."
"I heard from some of the knights that it magically repulsed a number of the enemy," another pressed.
"That is correct."
A murmur went through the crowd.
"How amazing! I cannot wait to see it once it is returned to the gallery!"
"I do not intend to replace it in the gallery," Galen replied. Immediately the room quieted.
"What do you mean?" one of the parliament members gasped.
"The gallery is not a safe place for the Knife, as this past week's adventure has shown us. I will not put the Knife in such danger."
"Perhaps there is something that can be done to reinforce its security?"
"Surely you would reconsider!" the parliament member insisted.
"My lords, surely this is no meet time to discuss such things," the queen interjected. "Sir Galen, the prince and princess and our knights have only just returned. Let us not harry them with so many questions. Good minstrel, honor us with tune!"
As the jaunty lute and shimmering lyre quieted the voices at the table, Galen glanced toward Lyra with a hard determination in his eyes.
The dinner progressed relatively uneventfully, and soon Galen found himself eager to retire. However, before the dinner could conclude, the king stood.
"Lords and ladies all, we thank Aslan this day that He has brought back Princess Lyra, the Stone Knife, as well as each of the knights who fought to bring them home. We honor the memory of Sir Glynan, who gave his life to bring her highness home. However, in this day of celebration and remembrance, this court must take up an unpleasant duty. On the morrow the High Court of Archenland will convene. Preparations have gone forward as scheduled, and at nine o'clock the trial of Lady Juliana will commence. All who wish to attend are welcome to do so.
Lyra leaned over towards Galen and whispered, "That should prove interesting."
"Indeed it shall," the Narnian replied, looking briefly towards the only face in the room devoid of merriment, the hardened face of Lord Kellan, Juliana's father.
15 Mayblossom 2076
"The High Court of Archenland will come to order." King Lorn's voice echoed through the great hall, and the voices within it abruptly stilled. The king and queen, dressed in Archen-green velvet and wearing the gold crowns they seldom donned, sat upon the thrones of Archenland in solemn silence. The entire court of Anvard, every member of Parliament, their families, and a good many more military personnel than usual gathered to see the goings-on of the day. This day's court was not one to miss. Archenland had not had occasion for a trial such as this in over a hundred years.
"Bring in the accused," Queen Layla spoke softly, but her words resounded off the marble walls nonetheless.
At the far end of the hall the crowd parted, and three Archen soldiers entered, escorting Lady Juliana. She held her head high as she walked, her green eyes flashing with a hard frigidity. The soldiers stood close beside her, each with a hand on either of her arms, and they indicated for her to stand before the dais before moving to the side.
"Lady Juliana, daughter of the Lord Kellan of Silvershire, you stand accused of the crime of High Treason against the Crown of Archenland, in the person of the Princess Lyra. You also stand accused of being an accessory to the murder of one of Archenland's knights, Sir Glynan of Ramstowne. How do you plead?" King Lorn spoke gravely.
"Not guilty," Juliana answered, defiantly meeting the king's gaze.
"Under the laws of Archenland you have the right to legal counsel and the right to a trial by jury. Do you wish to exercise those rights?"
"I do," Juliana evenly returned, standing very straight as the severity of her circumstances finally weighed upon her.
"Who will stand to represent the accused?" King Lorn's voice echoed off the marble walls.
"I will, your majesty," Lord Kellan stood.
"Then join your daughter, my lord."
After Lord Kellan had done so, Queen Layla turned to the guard behind the thrones and nodded. The guard turned to the door beside him and opened it, motioning for those inside to enter the hall. One by one, twelve people entered and stood to the side of the dais where the guard indicated. One wore the humble clothing of the Anvard blacksmith, another the finer raiment of an independent landowner, and still others the garb of farmers, musicians, servants, or nobility. Together they stood side by side in silence, observing the hall with solemn eyes.
"Lord Kellan," the Archen queen began. "These citizens of Archenland have agreed to sit in judgement. Having had the opportunity to question them as is your due, do you accept these citizens as jury?"
"I do, your majesty," Lord Kellan nodded.
"Then the members of the jury may be seated," the queen turned towards the twelve citizens. "Do you, then, swear on your honor to consider fairly the arguments of both the defendant and the crown and a render a true and unanimous verdict?"
Each member murmured an answer to the affirmative. The king and queen turned forward.
"Are counsels ready to proceed?" asked the king.
"Yes, your majesties," Lord Kellan and the crown prosecutor, Lord Trevelyan, stood and answered.
"You may proceed, Lord Trevelyan."
"Thank you, your majesties, may it please the court," the crown prosecutor stood and approached the jury. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I bid you good morning. Today we are tasked with examining a sordid web of deceit and betrayal. The crown shall prove to you this day, friends, that one Lady Juliana, long a trusted lady of this nation's parliamentary court, did willfully conspire with the Prince Karim of Calormen against the Princess Lyra, did knowingly betray her into the hands of that self-same prince with the full intent to condemn the princess to abduction across international lines and to marriage against her will. We will further prove this day, esteemed members of the jury, that out of the smoldering depths of spite and hatred did the Lady Juliana betray the princess of Archenland, seeking to inflict the pain and suffering of exile, torture, slavery, and other unimaginable evils. In addition—as if this were not enough—her treason directly led to the murder of an esteemed knight of Archenland, killed by Calormenes during the princess's rescue. The crimes before the court today are nothing less then treason born of the basest envy and the murder that directly flowed from it. Of the woman seated before you there—" the lord pointed, his impassioned voice raising, "we ask nothing less than that you declare her traitoress to the crown, deserving of the full punishment the crown may mete out," Lord Trevelyan's voice quieted suddenly as he finished, each word falling heavily at Juliana's feet. "Thank you."
"Lord Kellan," the queen spoke. "You may proceed."
"Thank you, your majesties, and may it please the court," Lord Kellan began. "Good members of the jury, I will not try to enrapture you with fine words nor frighten you with tales of woe. Lord Trevelyan spins a fascinating yarn, but the worth of the tale lies in its veracity, of which the crown prosecutor has none. The Lady Juliana has long been a faithful member of the parliamentary court and of this great nation, and we will show that these accusations against her person are in grave error at the least, patently false and defamatory at the worst. The Lord Trevelyan has not one shred of evidence admissible before this court today to prove the outrageous claims he makes, and I ask that you acquit the lady of these baseless charges," Lord Kellan turned back to the table and his seat. "Thank you."
Author's note: Opening statements are concluded! Stay tuned for the meat of the trial in the next chapter, Justice Concluded. Thank you for reading! I would love to know what you think!