Chapter 7 - III
"You can't believe I'm involved in this conspiracy!"
"Marquis, we're not trying to believe anything. We have some pretty solid evidence." Snow White sat at Sorton's desk as he complained for several minutes. His lies were becoming increasingly surreal, to the point of insinuating that the sect had manipulated him with occult arts or that there was a curse on his family. His wife and children knew nothing of his plans, but the servants probably knew their master well enough to be able to tell who he frequented in his office.
"That letter is clearly forged!"
"Do you have any proof, Marquis?" Snow White had reached her limit. For the next few minutes, she ignored him completely, ordering the guards to let in the first nobles who would be interrogated. The three who had spoken before the Hunt began, were the first to enter Quentin Sorton's office, and when they saw him handcuffed and lying in despair on the floor in front of the desk where the princess sat, they truly trembled.
The marquis was not a man who would kneel before his adversaries, especially a woman!
"I have no intention of wasting any more time. Tell me what you know, and maybe I'll be merciful." The princess rose from her desk, immediately intimidating the three she was questioning. Her height was not imposing, but the figure she represented was certainly powerful, and at that moment, she represented the law.
"Your Highness, how can we help?" One of the young nobles bowed slightly, keeping his gaze low, far too shy to meet Snow White's eyes. He would never have wanted to participate in Erik's stupid plan! His family continued to pressure him to gain friends and allies among the nobles of his age, but if it were up to him, he would have backed out a long time ago!
He had heard Erik speak of the marquis, saying that he could help the rebellion and that they would restore the country with a monarch worthy of the throne. But what would he do if the princess didn't believe his words?
Erik would surely kill him.
As the young man wrestled with his dilemma, Erik leaped forward and raised his voice: "You cannot treat us like this, we are members of the Council! Your Highness, since when have you run this kingdom with arrogance? Isn't justice what makes us different from a pack of animals? You should release us! The king would never—"
"Power decides what's right and wrong. This is the justice you yourselves have chosen to believe in." The girl's voice made his blood run cold, and he stepped back, colliding with a guard who glared at him.
How dare he raise his voice at the princess? He would have to pay for his mistake!
When the armed man was about to draw his sword, the princess raised a hand, stopping him. "There will be no need for violence... too much blood has already been shed in this land. I ask you, one last time, to cooperate with the investigation, otherwise I'll be forced to detain you until we find the culprits."
"Your Highness, if you would allow me..." The young nobleman, a sect follower, raised his timid eyes and his lips trembled; his posture made it clear; he didn't want to draw attention to himself.
"Speak." Snow White sat down, holding back a sigh. Court advisor Federik clearly noticed that the princess was already exhausted by the many worries weighing on her shoulders. The queen was wounded, and the assassins had not yet been found; it had been a stroke of luck to obtain the letter compromising Marquis Sorton Quentin.
Astrael looked carefully at the human who had just spoken and noticed the irate look on the face of the nobleman named Erik Devilis. The boy was truly on the wrong track if he thought he could threaten and exert his influence in that office.
"Your Highness, will you guarantee your protection if I tell the truth? I wouldn't want my family to suffer because of my confession."
"I will certainly ensure that no harm comes to you. After all, we are trying to bring justice here." Snow White was tired of all the secrets and intrigues. There were far more important things than the power dynamics between the new generation of nobles, and this was not the right day or place for a conversation of this kind. She knew that bullying was not uncommon among the noble ranks, and she also readily acknowledged that Devilis was not a good man, but rather he had subjugated other peers of distinguished origins to get what he wanted.
"What do you think you're doing?" Erik Devilis raised his voice and turned toward the young man. He was about to strike him, out of habit, but this time the guard silenced him, grabbing his arm and forcing him to kneel before the princess.
"Be silent. You were not spoken to."
"Your behavior is deplorable, Devilis."
"I offer my humble apologies, Your Highness." Devilis fell silent, finally embarrassed by his behavior. Despite his subsequent silence, he stared at the boy who wanted to speak, so that he understood the weight of his choices. If he betrayed their pact, he would suffer the consequences.
It had been a mistake to trust Sir Demitrik and the demon Morpheus! They had promised success and power, but where had they gone? Not only had they failed to kill the queen, they had allowed themselves to be destroyed!
The guards had captured the wounded; he had seen it with his own eyes. He knew that one false step would make him the scapegoat; he had to be careful.
Meanwhile, the young man named Ronald Senderson gathered his courage and decided to confess what he knew: Erik Devilis was not a murderer, but he had come into contact with the mysterious and dangerous man named Sir Demitrik. Ronald told them everything he knew, under the furious gaze of Devilis and Quentin Sorton.
For a moment, Erik was tempted to stop him, accusing him, but something stopped him, something that scared him to the core; It was a visceral sensation, unleashed when his eyes met those of royal advisor Astrael.
The demon had been watching a meaningless interrogation for too long. Not that it was the princess's fault, but they already had a lot of information, and the investigation would only be superficial. Astrael knew most of the culprits; he could have named them all, but concrete evidence was needed beyond testimony, at least in that kingdom. One of the king's first reforms, after his second marriage, had been to change the rules governing investigations and judicial processes. It had been a first step, one that Grimilde herself had followed despite her young age. The reforms the king had introduced during his reign had not been many, but in the previous centuries, change had been even slower. Some local historians had noted that over the years, the regents had been involved in increasingly rapid processes of change, and predictions said Grimilde of Arran would be no exception.
As the widow of the old king, the wisest of all, she had been shaped by the man's mentality; at least as regent, she would have followed a similar political line, even if it was clear that she had different ideas from Snow White's father.
Historians and political enthusiasts were truly curious to discover what would happen during the reign of Grimilde and princess Snow White, who had recently come of age.
"Your confession has been officially recorded. Do you confirm that what you say is the truth? Do you swear it before the crown?"
Federik had taken care of transcribing Roland's words, and when the boy nodded timidly, he wasted no time and closed the file, signing it with the royal stamp. Having written testimonies was essential to ensure a minimum of objectivity and concreteness during trials with witnesses.
Federik specialized in law and had become an advisor precisely because of his in-depth knowledge of the subject and his skills in calculations. He handled taxes, working alongside his assistants at the royal palace, and had a series of unspecified duties that made him an important figurehead for the royal family.
He was shocked when he was appointed to the position. The queen herself had invited him to stay in the royal palace and work alongside her, when young Federik had distinguished himself from his peers during his years attending the Royal Academy of Arran, intended for nobles and deserving commoners.
At the time, he could never have hoped (nor would he have imagined) that the queen herself would call him! And here he was, working loyally for the princess and the regent, whom he personally respected. It was truly the perfect opportunity to grow as a person and provide his support to the royal family, safeguarding the kingdom.
As the councilor pondered these thoughts, smiling inwardly, Astrael had reached the point of boredom and decided to expedite the investigation, even if only slightly...