Garris the Black looked like a man walking to his own execution.
Flanked by two hulking Royal Guards, the small, wiry merchant was dragged into the center of the courtroom. His face was ashen, his eyes wide with a terror so profound it seemed to suck all the air out of his immediate vicinity. He was trembling so violently that the light chains on his wrists produced a constant, faint rattle.
Duke Theron watched from the defendant's box, his own chains feeling heavier than ever. His entire gambit, his very life, rested on the courage of this terrified man.
The courtroom was just as packed as the day before, but the atmosphere had shifted. The air of smug certainty was gone, replaced by a tense, hungry anticipation. They had smelled blood yesterday; today, they expected a slaughter.
King Aldric Valendor sat upon his throne, his expression grim. "Let the court reconvene," he commanded, his voice echoing in the sudden silence. "Bring forth the witness, Garris the Black."
Garris was shoved forward. At the King's signal, two robed figures, the court's mages, stepped up. Their hands glowed with a soft, silver light as they began to chant in an ancient, melodic tongue. A circle of shimmering energy formed on the floor around the merchant, pulsing in time with his frantic heartbeat.
"The truth-seeking spell is active," one of the mages announced. "The witness is now bound to speak only the truth."
Lord High Prosecutor Ravencroft stepped forward, a predatory gleam in his eyes. He clearly believed Garris was Duke's co-conspirator and that the truth spell would be the final nail in Theron's coffin.
"State your name for the court," Ravencroft began.
"G-Garris," the merchant stammered. The silver circle around him glowed steadily. True.
"And your trade?"
"I am… a merchant." True.
Ravencroft paced before him like a wolf circling its prey. "And did you, Garris the merchant, recently sell a potent nightshade-based poison, contained within three ornate wine bottles, to the man who stands accused before this court, Duke Theron?"
This was it. The moment of truth. Duke held his breath, his knuckles white where he gripped the edge of the defendant's box. He saw Garris's eyes flicker toward him, a silent plea for reassurance. Duke gave a single, almost imperceptible nod.
Garris swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "No," he said, his voice barely a squeak.
The silver circle around him pulsed once, brightly. **TRUE.**
***
A tidal wave of whispers crashed through the courtroom. If Duke hadn't bought the poison, then his story of being framed was plausible. Ravencroft was visibly stunned, his carefully constructed case crumbling before his eyes. He quickly recovered, his expression hardening.
"If you did not sell the poison to Duke Theron," the prosecutor pressed, his voice sharp, "then who did you sell it to? Name them!"
Garris began to tremble again, his gaze darting towards the gallery where the highest-ranking nobles sat. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Fear had stolen his voice. Duke's heart sank. He was stonewalling. This was the failure state he had feared.
"Answer the question, witness!" Ravencroft demanded.
Garris looked at Duke, then at the King, his eyes pleading. He was a man caught between two lethal threats: the court's judgment and an assassin's blade. Duke met his gaze, trying to project strength, to remind him of the promise he had made—his daughter's future.
Finally, Garris took a shuddering breath. "It was… it was Lord Chancellor Verin," he whispered.
The name dropped into the silent courtroom like a boulder into a still pond. Shock rippled through the hall, followed by outrage. Lord Chancellor Verin, the King's most trusted advisor, a man of impeccable reputation and immense power, shot to his feet, his face a mask of purple fury.
"This is absurd! An outrageous lie!" Verin bellowed. "This gutter rat is trying to save his own skin by slandering his betters!"
"SILENCE!" the King roared, his voice cracking with authority. He stared down at his Chancellor, his expression a mixture of disbelief and cold fury. He turned his gaze back to the mages. "Is the witness speaking the truth?"
The head mage bowed. "The spell holds, Your Majesty. The statement is true."
Verin's face went bone-white. All eyes in the room were now on him, the whispers turning from Duke to the second most powerful man in the kingdom. Ravencroft, thrown completely off balance, could only stammer, "Lord Chancellor… what is the meaning of this?"
***
Lord Verin, though pale, was a master of politics. He quickly regained his composure, his expression shifting from outrage to one of grave seriousness.
"Your Majesty, members of the court," he began, his voice smooth and practiced. "It is true that I purchased a sample of poison from this man. However, I did so for the same reason Duke Theron claims to have acted: I was conducting my own investigation."
He had stolen Duke's defense. The sheer audacity of it was breathtaking.
"I had heard whispers of a plot against the crown," Verin continued, his confidence growing as he wove his narrative. "A plot originating from the southern trade guilds. I bought the poison to trace its origin, to confirm its potency, and to identify the conspirators before they could strike."
"And why did you not report this to the King's council?" Ravencroft asked, his suspicion now divided between the two powerful men.
"And risk tipping our hand?" Verin countered smoothly. "I was gathering irrefutable evidence before making such a grave accusation. I acted alone to protect the integrity of the investigation and the safety of the crown."
The court was in turmoil. Both Duke Theron and Lord Chancellor Verin had the same story. Both claimed to be secret patriots. One of them had to be lying, but which one?
"This is an unprecedented situation," King Aldric declared, his brow furrowed in deep thought. He looked at his Chancellor, a man he had trusted for decades. "Verin, if your hands are as clean as you claim, you will not object to submitting to the truth-seeking spell yourself."
Verin gave a short, confident bow. "Of course not, Your Majesty. I have nothing to hide."
***
The mages moved from the trembling merchant to the composed Lord Chancellor. The silver circle of truth flared to life around him, its light seeming to reflect the confidence in his eyes. Duke watched, his mind racing. Something was wrong. Verin was too calm, too willing. He was walking into the spell knowing he could beat it. But how?
"Lord Chancellor Verin," Ravencroft began, his voice now cautious. "Did you, at any point, intend to use the poison you purchased to harm His Majesty, the King?"
"No," Verin said, his voice firm and clear.
The circle glowed. **TRUE.**
Duke's blood ran cold. How was that possible?
Ravencroft continued, "And did you, or anyone under your command, plant the poisoned wine bottles in Duke Theron's manor?"
"No," Verin stated, looking directly at Duke with an unreadable expression.
The circle flared brightly again. **TRUE.**
The courtroom descended into chaos. According to the magic, Garris was telling the truth, and Verin was telling the truth. Both men seemed innocent of the primary crimes. Duke was being framed, but the man who bought the poison wasn't the one who framed him. It made no sense.
Duke's mind flashed back to the wording. The spell compelled truth, but it didn't read intent or interpret nuance. It answered the literal question asked. That was the key. Verin wasn't lying; he was navigating the questions with surgical precision.
"Your Majesty!" Duke called out, his voice cutting through the din. "I request permission to question the Lord Chancellor myself!"
The King, desperate for clarity, slammed his gavel. "Permission granted!"
***
Duke stepped forward, the chains on his wrists a mockery of his newfound agency. He faced the Lord Chancellor, who stood within the glowing circle, his expression a mask of calm indifference.
"Lord Verin," Duke began, his voice ringing with authority. "You testified that you did not plant the poison, nor did you command anyone to do so. A carefully worded denial. So let me ask a different question." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "Did you, through suggestion, manipulation, or the giving of a vague order, *cause* someone else to plant the poison in my manor?"
Verin's composure finally cracked. A flicker of panic flashed in his eyes. He hesitated. "I… no."
The silver circle around him sputtered, its light turning a murky, unstable grey. **PARTIAL LIE,** the head mage announced, his voice filled with awe.
Gasps echoed through the hall. Duke pressed his attack. "You're lying. Or at least, not telling the whole truth. Let me be more direct: Who was the instrument of your 'suggestion'? Who did you manipulate into framing me?"
Verin's face was a storm of fury and fear. He refused to answer.
"The spell compels you, Lord Chancellor!" the King boomed from his throne. "Answer the Duke!"
Trapped, Verin finally broke. "My steward," he spat, the words tasting like ash. "But he acted without my full knowledge of his methods! I was simply—"
"You were simply trying to frame a rival to remove them from the board while you played the hero of your own secret investigation," Duke finished for him. "Is that not the truth?"
Verin glared at him, his hatred a palpable force. "…Yes."
The circle flared, a brilliant, damning silver. **TRUE.**
The courtroom erupted.
***
The King was on his feet, his face a mask of pure fury at the betrayal. "You used this plot as a weapon against a fellow peer! You deceived this entire court!"
"Your Majesty," Ravencroft interjected, trying to salvage the proceedings. "It is clear both men have acted outside the law. I argue that both Duke Theron and Lord Chancellor Verin should be detained pending a full investigation into this conspiracy."
"I object!" Duke declared loudly. "I cooperated at every turn. I presented evidence. I submitted to your authority. Lord Verin lied, manipulated, and attempted to frame me for a crime I was trying to solve. We are not the same."
Before the King could rule, Elias Brightblade spoke up. "His Majesty's justice should reward cooperation, not punish it. Duke Theron has been instrumental in uncovering this treachery. He should be freed."
Then, from the gallery, Seraphina stood, her voice trembling but clear. "I will vouch for Duke Theron's character, Your Majesty. He is an honorable man who has been gravely wronged."
The King looked from Duke's defiant face to Elias's earnest one, then to Seraphina's plea. He considered for a long moment, the fate of two of his most powerful nobles resting in his hands.
Finally, his gavel struck.
"Lord Chancellor Verin, you are hereby suspended from your duties and confined to your estate under guard. An investigation into your actions will begin immediately." He then turned his gaze to Duke. "Duke Theron, for your cooperation in this matter, you are released from custody pending the final outcome of this investigation."
The guards moved forward, but instead of dragging him away, they began to unlock his chains. The heavy iron fell from his wrists with a loud clatter. He was free.
Duke walked out of the courtroom a free man—for now. But as he passed the glowering face of Lord Verin and the confused looks of the other nobles, he knew this wasn't over. It was just the beginning.