AN: This chapter was originally going to be titled "Justice Attained", following on from the previous chapter. I later decided to make it parallel an even earlier chapter instead.
Francisca was being held up with one arm by Selina, this being the only way for her to reach the courtroom. Even then, she felt arrows of pain stabbing through her body with every step.
Yet when she spotted Mary's blue hair in the distance, over the heads of the crowd, that pain seemed to disappear. And when she saw the look on Mary's face, her heart was filled with elation.
"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!?" Father demanded in what could only be described as a true king's voice. "I WAS NOT INFORMED OF THIS TRIAL!"
Brown-haired Benella, eldest of the princesses, whispered, "Don't strain yourself, Father, you haven't fully recovered yet."
One of the three men sitting in the judges' chairs responded to Father's words. "Y-Y-Your Majesty, we were not aware that you'd… recovered…"
"Of course not," Father scoffed. "But you certainly didn't miss this opportunity to drag Lescatie even further into the path of ruin!"
A few of the nobles stood up and ran clumsily towards the nearest exits.
"No one leaves without permission," murmured calm Vivian, second of the princesses. "Unbreaking Seal."
Vivian did not take out a staff or other magical focus. With just that short incantation, she caused chains of red light to appear over the doors of most exits.
"That said, I should be grateful for one thing," Father said, clenching his fists. "You have made all the preparations for a trial already, so I can take advantage of that to mete out true justice." He turned towards his guards. "Bring in the witnesses!"
Eddard, one of the guards, hurried out of the room through the only remaining exit.
A noblewoman, one of those who'd just tried to flee, bowed her head. "Your Majesty!" she cried. "I have just learned that… that my father is on his deathbed, and I must go to him!"
"Not a single soul may leave this room until the trial is complete," Father declared. "But I should thank those of you who were kind enough to vacate your chairs. For the rest of the trial… yes, you may find your seating on the benches, where there is still some room."
On trembling legs, Francisca followed her family towards the front of the courtroom. The judges here scrambled away, one even tripping over his throne in his haste. Then the other royal guard, Phillip, quickly brought over some of the vacated chairs.
Selina slowly lowered Francisca into her chair. The frail princess looked around. Most of the attention was on her father, as expected, but a few people looked at her in surprise, clearly wondering why she was here.
Mary, too, looked surprised… but there were also tears of joy in her eyes.
Not yet, Francisca reminded herself. I can't talk to her just yet...
Once all of the royal family was seated, Father spoke again. "Heroes Wilmarina and Lucas, you may be seated as well. I have already discovered those responsible for the attempt on my life, and for myriad other crimes. I now name them…"
As the two former defendants moved away, Father rattled off a list of over twenty names, each followed by the crimes they were accused of. Some of the names elicited a shocked reaction from someone in the crowd. Others did not, suggesting these names belonged to people not currently present.
"Your Majesty, surely this is a mistake—"
"I would never have anything to do with something so heinous—"
While some in the crowd protested the charges, others kept eyeing the exit that Vivian had not sealed yet. None made a move for it, probably guessing it had to be a trap.
Soon, Eddard returned via that same set of doors. He brought four people with him: a maid, a scholarly looking woman, a strange man in nondescript clothing and a nobleman.
"I call upon the first witness," Father said. "Gertrude, one of the maids who works in this castle."
Gertrude was a woman who looked to be in her thirties, and she wore the typical black and white uniform of the castle maids. As she walked towards the witness' chair, she trembled visibly. But when her eyes met Francisca's, she swallowed and began moving more steadily.
"I…" Gertrude said, upon sitting down. "It's my fault that His Majesty almost… died…"
"Please start from the beginning," Mother said kindly. "As we said earlier, it wasn't your fault."
"I… then, three days before the king, f-fell," Gertrude said. "I went to my home, to check on my two boys… and I found a strange box, inside was a note and a pair of shoes. The note said… if I didn't want anything to h-happen to my children, that I had to… had to swap Your Majesty's shoes with this pair…"
The courtroom was filled with a furious buzz of discussion.
"Phillip, show them the shoes I was wearing on the day of the attempted assassination," Father ordered.
The guard took out a pair of dark red and expensive-looking shoes from a small bag. He held them up with the soles facing towards the audience, allowing them to see something Francisca had seen last night: a small hole in the sole of one shoe, one that could be mistaken for regular damage. Then Phillip drew a dagger and punctured the sole of the other shoe in the same place, causing a clear liquid to ooze out. Many of the audience gasped.
"There is a small compartment hidden inside the soles of both shoes," Father explained. "When I walked in replicas of my normal footwear, it eventually ruptured the compartment in the right shoe, forming that hole and allowing the liquid to trickle out. As for the nature of that liquid, I had the shoe investigated by the alchemist's guild. I call upon my second witness, Alchemist Christina, to report their findings."
The scholarly woman took Gertrude's place on the witness' chair. At this close distance, Francisca could smell the faint odours of various chemicals from the long grey clothing she wore.
"Inside the right shoe's hidden compartment are traces of a volatile liquid," Christina said. "Simply put, one that dries quickly upon exposure to air. Before it dried, however, it would still reduce friction between the shoe and the underlying surface."
"Thus leaving no traces when the investigation begun," Father said. He gestured at the left shoe, which no longer showed any traces of the liquid. "Even if the hole in the shoe were noticed, it could be mistaken for the result of ordinary use, and it alone wouldn't explain my sudden loss of balance." He glanced at Francisca for a brief moment. "In slightly different circumstances, we may never have discovered the hidden compartments, and my fall might have been ruled an accident."
Those words caused Francisca to shudder. While her father was almost back to full health now, her sisters had mentioned that he'd been very lucky. If he'd fallen just slightly differently, taking more of the impact on his head, he might have died instantly.
"A simple, yet ingenious method," Father continued. "While we suspected foul play, we were much too focused on magical methods of assassination, and kept searching for traces of magic. All of us would do well to keep this lesson in mind: mundane methods can be every bit as effective."
Father paused for a while, allowing the explanation to sink in for the audience. During this time, Francisca thought about the attempted assassination again.
Even if this method had a low probability of being discovered, it also had a low probability of success. The compartments might have ruptured and released the liquid when Father was on level floor, and then his fall wouldn't have been so dangerous. Or they might have leaked the liquid upwards, allowing Father to feel it and realise the sabotage. The masterminds must have desperate, trying to get Father out of the way quickly before he could arrest them.
…Some claim that royalty is blessed by the Chief God. But this is more proof that they're lying through their teeth. If we were truly blessed by the divine, Father wouldn't have almost died… and I wouldn't have this uselessly weak body.
Then Mary raised a hand, immediately drawing Francisca's attention.
"Your Majesty, I have one question. I heard that a maid fell down stairs on the same day; is that related to this?"
"A good question, Hero Wilmarina," Father said. "Gertrude, kindly answer it."
"Th-That maid… was me…" Gertrude admitted. "The note told me to do that as well, as soon as I heard about what happened to His Majesty… so people would be less suspicious… I still have some of the bruises…"
"That is horrifying beyond belief," Mary said in indignation. "Who would be so cruel, threatening children and forcing their mother to injure herself?"
Several of the audience now looked even more nervous than before. Among them was a fat nobleman in clothing of blue and red.
"That, too is a good question," Father said. "I call upon my next witness."
Christina was replaced by the man in nondescript clothing. Francisca hadn't been outside the castle in years, but this man was the sort of person she might have passed on the street without ever noticing his face. That was the impression he gave.
"The name's Crawford, and my job is…" he pulled a face. "Officially, I deliver messages between nobles, and I do a bit of that, but most of my income is from doing jobs the nobles can't let others know about."
There were some outraged shouts from the many accused nobles. These were quickly silence by glares from Francisca's sisters.
"Continue," Father said.
"My latest job was pretty simple," Crawford said. "I picked up a note from my client, then a pair of fancy shoes from a… craftsman, and dropped 'em off at the maid's place, without anyone spotting me."
"You are the true mastermind!" shouted the nobleman who wore blue and red. He stood up and pointed at the witness, his eyes wild with desperation. "Your Majesty, for the atrocious crime of regicide, he should be executed at once!"
"Earl Garth. Sit. Down," Father ordered. "The decision of punishment falls to me. And I, the one endangered by this scheme, decide that the witness should continue his testimony."
"Thank you, Your Majesty," Crawford said, bowing his head. "You might not believe me, but I didn't know what was on that note. If I had, maybe I wouldn't have taken the job. But more importantly… I know who gave me the order to arrange all this. It was a butler, and while he never said who he worked for, my job means I have to know my clients. And that butler, worked for him."
Crawford pointed at Earl Garth, the very noble who'd protested his testimony before. The earl jumped to his feet again.
"This is an abominable lie!" Garth said, his face as red as a tomato. "I assure you that I am innocent—"
"Spare us further lies, Earl Garth," Father said. "As we speak, my troops should now be entering your residence, to search for records of your illegal activities… and interrogate every single one of your servants. They are also searching for the underground craftsman who made the replica shoes, and I expect will soon find him."
The earl sank back onto his chair. Now, he made Francisca look like the very picture of vitality.
"Your Majesty, surely you cannot invade the homes of your loyal subjects," said the judge from before, "on the word of a few commoners and nothing else!"
"I have precisely that right, Marquis Theodore, due to the emergency powers I invoked earlier," Father retorted. "An army of monsters still approaches Lescatie… though it's clear that many of you have forgotten that fact."
The judge sank into his chair as well.
"And since you consider the bloodline of my witnesses relevant," Father continued, "I call upon my fourth witness… Duke Stephen of House Miras."
Crawford left and a young man, hardly older than Francisca herself, walked to the witness' chair. His appearance caused a certain subset of the audience to freeze.
"I am Stephen Miras," Stephen said. "I can only call myself a duke now thanks to the efforts of others." He nodded towards Mary, causing an irrational pang of jealousy to flare up in Francisca. "And I have been shamefully inactive until now… but no longer."
"What was the reason for your inactivity?" Father asked in a grave tone. "In the most recent Senate meeting I attended, you appeared quite eager to make amends for your father's crimes."
"Simply put, Your Majesty?" Stephen said, clenching one fist. "I was blackmailed… with one of my family's most shameful secrets. If I did not stand down, then my enemies threatened to reveal that two of my own ancestors fell for the temptations of monsters, and abandoned Lescatie."
That revelation hit the courtroom like a violent storm. Some desperate voices cried out "He's lying!" and "The blood of heretics can't be trusted!"
"...I see," Father said. "That is certainly a secret you had good reason to hide."
Stephen bowed his head. "It's partly because of that that Lescatie's corruption has worsened, and you very nearly died, Your Majesty. I cannot undo that mistake, but I can provide you some assistance now." He raised his head and looked hatefully at the nobles in the crowd. "By revealing all of their shameful secrets in turn!"
One of those nobles stood up. "Don't be a fool, boy!" he shouted, sounding as if he was at his wits' end. "You're ruining all of the efforts of your ancestors!"
"The only ancestors I care for are those who truly served Lescatie!" Stephan shot back. "The only way I can honour them now, is by tearing out the rot festering in Lescatie!"
And that wasn't all. A middle-aged hero raised his hand. "Your Majesty, this may be abrupt, but I'd like to nominate myself as a witness as well. I've had enough of working for utter scum, just because my children did some stupid things and got indebted to them."
"You are welcome to do so, Hero Eldrich," Father said.
"Wait!" shouted one noble, her cheeks wet with tears—probably genuine for once.
"Y-You need us, Your Majesty!" shouted another, now on his knees.
"Please, be merciful!" shouted yet another. "I beg of you, do not leave my children orphans!"
"The Chief God would not—"
Benella stood up. "Silence," she said, her expression thunderous. "Cretins like you should not besmirch the Chief God by invoking her name!"
The trial from then on involved even more shouting and screaming. It was now too much for Francisca, who'd spent almost all of her life in the quiet confines of her room.
She thus spent the remaining half-hour of the trial just looking at Mary, drinking in every detail of her appearance, making up for eight years of lost time.
-ooo-
Some time after the trial had ended, Francisca was brought back to her room and to her bed. The afternoon sun shone in through the window, the clouds from the morning having now cleared.
"You must be exhausted after all that," Mother said, lightly massaging her shoulders.
"Th-Thank you, Mother," Francisca said awkwardly. "I'm alright now." After some hesitation, she asked, "Was… Was I of any use today?"
"How can you say that now?" Mother said. "Without you, we might still be fumbling around, not knowing how Castor was almost killed."
Francisca lowered her head. It was true, in a sense. The rest of her family had been running short of clues, only for the useless member to discover something crucial.
One sunny morning, Francisca was reading in her bed as usual. She heard footsteps and voices from just outside her room—even if her body was weak in general, her hearing was normal.
"Ah… my back is aching already…" said the voice of one of Francisca's personal maids.
"How about you leave this to me?" said another maid. "I can do the princess' morning routine on my own."
"It's better if we work together," the first maid said. "That princess is oddly heavy for someone so ill, it's hard for one person to change her clothes and wipe her body."
The maids routinely talked about Francisca in this manner, either not knowing or not caring she could hear them outside her room.
"But it's just awful of Gertrude to saddle you with her work as well," the second maid said.
"It's not her fault, I'm the one who asked to take over her work," the first maid said placatingly. "She still hasn't healed up from her fall. And sometimes, I get the feeling she's… no, forget it."
Something in Francisca reacted to those words. She closed her book and pushed it aside.
The maids entered the bedroom. One was carrying a fresh set of clothes. The other had in one hand a tray with Francisca's breakfast—a bowl of milk with various additives, one of the few things Francisca's body could handle—and her other hand held a bucket—needed for another part of the daily routine.
Francisca went through her daily routine without comment. After the maids left, she took a small golden bell from under her pillow and rang it.
Less than a minute later, Selina rushed into the room, her eyes wide. "Sister, did something happen!?"
Francisca shook her head. "No… I'd just like to talk to you about a maid named Gertrude, who apparently fell recently…"
That had been two days ago. The servants of the royal castle might be cooperating with the investigation, but there were still matters they didn't talk about… save when they thought no one else could hear them.
At Francisca's suggestion, Gertrude was brought to her room for questioning. This revealed the chain of conspiracy leading all the way to Earl Garth, one of the middle-ranked nobles who was suspected of corruption. Moreover, he'd done this with the help of various other nobles, including one who'd suggested the assassination method.
That left the issue of how to prove all this in a satisfactory manner. The criminal, Crawford, had been willing to testify if his execution—the normal punishment for helping in attempted regicide—was reduced to a life sentence in a comfortable jail cell. Gertrude, on the other hand, had initially been too terrified to confess what she'd done in front of a large audience.
Mother had spoken to the maid gently, said that it wasn't her fault for trying to keep her children safe. And then…
"...Gertrude…" Francisca said. "I… plan to attend the trial…"
Everyone else in the room reacted with shock. Sister Selina said, "You cannot, you're still not healthy enough for such an event!"
"I plan to be there…" Francisca insisted. "I hope to see the ones who hurt my father… be brought to justice…"
Back in the present, Francisca covered her face with her hands. "Thinking about it now… it feels like I just exploited her guilt…"
"Perhaps…" Mother conceded. "But I believe your presence there, despite your physical weakness, gave her the courage to do the same."
"Perhaps…"
Trying to think of something else, Francisca glanced out the window. She could see clouds billowing through the azure sky, birds chasing each other playfully.
"...I've neglected you, Francisca," Mother said, her eyes sad. "Many have said it is not my fault that you were born like this. But I should, at least, have spent more time with you."
"I'm simply glad… you're here now, Mother…"
The two royals embraced. It felt warm and comforting beyond measure. But it also let Francisca feel how thin her mother was, something that had previously been concealed by carefully tailored clothing.
"M-Mother…" Francisca gasped, as the two of them separated. "Have you been… eating properly…?"
That was met with a sigh. "Castor has been worrying about that as well," Mother said. "I suppose I haven't. Now that things are more or less settled, I can begin paying more attention to my own health."
There was a knock on the door. "Your Majesty?" said Eddard's voice. "Sorry to interrupt, but the meeting has started."
"I'm afraid I must leave," Mother said. "If you need anything, Francisca, Eddard will remain at the door. He'll also ensure that none of our remaining enemies attempt anything against you, now that you've gained some attention. We've arrested most of them now, but there's no sense in taking risks."
After a final round of farewells, Mother left. Francisca was alone again in her room, both more tired and more satisfied than she'd been in a long time.
In the end, it was more luck than anything that allowed me to contribute this time. I still can't fight, cast a spell, negotiate with people, or anything else truly useful. Even in the trial, all I did was sit and listen while others did everything.
...And yet, I managed to see Mary again… I'm not sure when we'll be able to have a proper meeting, she must be very busy, but soon…
Time passed. At one point, a bird landed on the windowsill and pecked at the glass curiously. It reminded Francisca of those days in which Mary and Elt had snuck into her room via that very same window. Though unlike those persistent childhood friends, the bird flew away soon enough.
...How I yearn for her… Even now, I can almost hear her voice…
"—wish to see her?" said Eddard from the other side of the door. "No one can doubt your loyalty, that's for certain. You may enter, Hero Wilmarina."
"Thank you."
Francisca sat up as fast as her body would allow.
The door opened and then shut again. A painfully familiar face had just slipped into the room.
"...Fran," Mary said.
In the blink of an eye, Mary had crossed the distance from the door to the bed. She wrapped her arms around Francisca—much more gently than her mother had, presumably out of fear for her weak body.
"Mary…" Francisca said, tears streaming down her cheeks.
This close contact made Francisca's heart race. She could also feel Mary's heart racing as well, a rapid series of beats that indicated strong emotion.
Mary pulled away eventually. "Fran…" she took a deep breath. "First of all, I have to apologise."
"For what?" Francisca asked, confusion infringing on her happiness.
"For… For pretending not to know you, at that dinner, about four months ago…" Mary said, her face twisted in regret. "I should never have done such a thing. I should have revealed our friendship to all, no matter the consequences."
"With how dangerous Lescatie is…" Francisca said, thinking about recent events, "ignoring me turned out to be safer…"
"I still should never have done that," Mary said. She breathed again. "What can I possibly do to make up for hurting you?"
"You could tell me everything… everything that's happened in the past eight years…" Francisca said. When Mary glanced at the door, Francisca added, "Eddard is someone my parents trust… and if you're worried, you can keep your voice down…"
Mary nodded, leaned in closer and began speaking.
The feeling of warm breath on her ear sent a thrill through Francisca's body, but she did her best to keep that hidden.
-ooo-
"...To think all of that happened…" Francisca murmured. "You've been through so much, Mary…"
"I suppose not too many can say they've met a lilim," Mary said. "Whether heroes or kings."
The two of them now sat side by side on Francisca's bed, hand in hand.
"But I must know this," Mary said. "Just what do you think, Fran? What is your opinion on the idea of peace with the monsters?"
"...I was also asked that a few days ago…" Francisca replied. "When my father revealed how Druella had secretly met with him… My answer to you, is the same as what I said then… I've never seen monsters in person… but most of the humans I know, ignore me, look down on me…"
Mary clenched her teeth in renewed anger. "If I'd just acted sooner, instead of remaining under my father's thumb…"
"It wasn't your fault…" Francisca said, mimicking her mother. "More importantly, the only humans I trust are my family… you… and Elt… So if you think that peace is a good idea… I'm alright with it…"
Mary let out a sigh of relief. "Still, that must have been quite the conversation with your family."
Francisca thought back to that time, recalled the disbelief and the shouting and the arguing. It had only calmed down when… when she'd spoken up.
Perhaps Mother is right… I've been more useful than I thought…
"It was difficult…" Francisca admitted. "My sisters, especially Benella, wanted to try to fight Druella… but in the end, they agreed to one meeting…"
"Then we'll have to hope the treaty is finalised in that one meeting," Mary said. She rubbed her temple with her free hand. "But even if it is, there'll be a difficult road ahead of Lescatie. This country of ours has devoted itself to fighting monsters for so long…"
The conversation continued for a while longer. Then Francisca looked out the window and determined that at least half an hour had passed, judging from the movement of the sun.
"You must have other things to do…"
"I can still stay here," Mary insisted. "There's no need for you to worry about that."
Francisca shook her head, though her lips were curled into a smile. "I'll be fine… Please go and do what you must… Just pass on my greetings to Elt for me…"
"I will," Mary said. She glanced at the window. "It's a shame I couldn't bring him here with me today… But I'll tell him. Though before I go… Fran, you know how I feel about Elt. What about you? Have your… feelings changed?"
"Well… I suppose I'd have to meet him in person, to be sure…" Francisca replied. "But… nothing has happened that would change my feelings… The only other men I know at all are my father, the royal guards… and all those men who ignored me, except when they joined in laughing at me… And even if people start paying attention to me now… I'd never want any man, save the one who paid attention to me from the start…"
Mary looked down at the floor guiltily. "Of course," she murmured. "That's only natural…"
"If you… want me to be happy…" Francisca said, pouting a little. "Then don't hold yourself back… tell me the same thing you did all those years ago… tell me that you won't lose…"
Mary looked up and her smile returned. "Very well. When it comes to Elt… I won't lose, to you or to anyone else. Then, this is farewell for now, Fran."
"Farewell, Mary…"
Mary walked back to the door. Francisca watched her from behind every step of the way, not stopping until she was out of sight. And she continued listening when there was a brief conversation outside the door, in which Eddard thanked Mary briefly.
Only when Mary's footsteps could no longer be heard did Francisca lay down on her bed again.
…Tired… so very tired…
Everyone else in the castle, including the rest of Francisca's family, wouldn't even be able to rest yet. They were busy cleaning out the rest of the traitors and preparing for when the monsters officially arrived, on top of the usual work that had to be done to keep a country running. Much was still uncertain: there might be more traitors still hidden, they might have other plans that would cause trouble, and many Lescatians might violently resist a peace treaty with monsters.
But I was able to talk to her again… and soon, there'll be time for even more—
Francisca suddenly felt a white-hot agony in her chest. She hurriedly brought a hand to her face and coughed, once, twice. When she brought the hand away, there were a few red spots on the palm.
My condition has been better recently… but perhaps today was still… ugh… too much…
Francisca reached out her hand—hating how it and her arm trembled incessantly—and wiped it on a red cloth on her bedside table.
In the end… there isn't much I'm useful for… and others have to take time out of their schedules… to come and visit me…
She closed her eyes. Though that helped with the fatigue, it didn't do anything to dull her pain.
All of the knowledge and techniques of humans haven't been able to cure me… but… in some of the stories I've read…
AN: I spent a while writing about the assassination method. I went from a fast-drying liquid sprinkled on the stairs, then thought that would be too easily seen. I then had the idea of sabotaged shoes that wore down much faster than normal, but then I reread Chapter 14 and realised I wrote all of Castor's clothes being investigated. In the end, I decided to combine the two ideas. The two things that remained constant are the method being completely non-magical and a maid being involved, both foreshadowed by Chapter 14.
Some things in this chapter are, again, taken from Francisca's untranslated chapter of Fallen Brides.
