---
"Nameless noble."
"Nothing comes out of people like that."
"She's no different from a commoner."
Those were the translations Melinda gave to the looks she received as she was led into the court.
Her simple, elegant brown dress, paired with the complete absence of jewelry, made her appear humble and bereaved. Clenching her fists, she prayed bitterly and desperately for acquittal.
As the policemen guided her to her seat, it felt like she was approaching her own guillotine. Desperately, she searched for a look of encouragement among the crowd.
All she found were faces of disgust, pity, and mockery—until her eyes fell on Rivan, whose reassuring look she gratefully accepted. But then her gaze shifted, and she saw her.
Their eyes locked briefly before Melinda averted her gaze. Her mood soured further.
"Ugh, the nerve of this woman," she thought bitterly. "She sits there with such nonchalance, like an unbothered queen. It irks me… it—" Her thoughts broke off, a wave of frustration overcoming her. "I just hate how she makes me feel. I hate her."
Meanwhile, Mahalia's mind was elsewhere, preoccupied with what the king was planning. She had asked Rachel to step back from this phase of the case for a reason…
Marie, seated beside her, tapped her on the shoulder. "What are you thinking about so intensely? You're even biting your nails"
Startled, Mahalia lowered her hand, embarrassed. "Sorry. Force of habit."
"What?" Marie raised an eyebrow.
"Mother, what did you want to ask me?"
Marie hesitated, as though carefully choosing her words. "What do you think? About this case."
Mahalia shrugged. "Melinda Charmale is going home an innocent woman."
"But you were so certain she was the culprit."
"I still am. But I doubt the king would let her go so easily. He'll dispose of her eventually—when she's outlived her usefulness. Just not today, and not in this way."
"Then why are you so invested in this case? I thought you wanted justice for the victim."
Mahalia remained silent, thoughts churning. "From the beginning, I knew I couldn't just get rid of her. I don't want her out of the picture yet—not like this."
The chatter in the room quieted as the presiding judge, Zachary, entered. No one was surprised; word had already spread that Awin wouldn't oversee the case.
"Calculative man," Mahalia muttered under her breath.
The proceedings began as Zachary called on the new head of the investigation team to present their findings.
The man stepped forward, bowed, and began.
"After an in-depth investigation, analysis, and clarification, we have concluded that, without a shadow of a doubt, Melinda Charmale is… a false positive."
Melinda exhaled deeply, as though she had been holding her breath for hours. She glanced up and caught Mahalia's gaze.
"What?" Zachary's voice cut through the murmurs in the room. Though outwardly calm, he was clearly perplexed. During the investigation, the evidence had overwhelmingly pointed to Melinda. What had changed? "I smell a rat. A royal rat," he thought grimly.
The investigator continued. "Yes, Melinda Charmale is not the culprit."
"Proceed," Zachary instructed flatly.
"Our attempts to probe the suspect proved futile, as she remained tight-lipped. So, we broadened our investigation, questioning others connected to the case. During this process, we discovered an individual we were unable to contact—Riley Khantell, the lady-in-waiting to Sir Milton's wife."
The room stirred with murmurs of curiosity.
"We looked into her whereabouts and found that she is deceased."
Zachary's brow furrowed. The case had taken a complicated turn.
The investigator continued, "Your honor, I'd like to call a witness to testify on this matter."
"This is an investigation disclosure meeting, but… I'll allow it."
"I call Jane Onceoff to testify."
Jane Onceoff, the head maid of the Milton household, approached and greeted the court.
"Jane, can you introduce yourself?"
"I am Jane Onceoff, head maid of Sir Milton's household. I was close friends with Riley."
"How would you describe Riley Khantell?"
Jane hesitated, visibly pained. "She was very quiet and kind. She treated everyone like family—loyal, reserved, but fiercely dedicated to the lady of the house."
"Did you notice anything unusual about her behavior before her death?"
Jane nodded slowly. "The morning after Qaya Wright was found, Riley seemed off. At the time, I thought it was because of the trauma of seeing a body or something from her past. She looked visibly uncomfortable and shaky. I asked her about it, but she only asked for time off and for me to cover for her. She looked so… regretful."
"Do you know the details of her death?"
Jane shook her head. "No. Her daughter wouldn't tell us much—only that she had passed."
"Thank you for your testimony. You may step down."
Jane nodded and returned to her seat, her steps heavy.
The investigator resumed. "Sacred court, we discovered Riley Khantell's cause of death—suicide."
Gasps erupted throughout the courtroom, followed by a wave of whispers and murmurs.
Mahalia bit her nails again, her mind racing. "What's going on? Did this Riley person truly have a hand in my death? Or… was an innocent woman dragged into this?"
She bowed her head in bitterness.
Zachary snickered, his thoughts venomous. How convenient, the person you're trying to pin as the murderer... is dead. He turned his gaze toward the investigation head.
"And how did you conclude that?" Zachary asked.
The man stood straighter, his voice steady. "She was found hanged in a place she referred to as her asylum. Only she and her daughter knew of its existence. There was also a suicide note."
He handed the document to Zachary, who inspected it carefully.
"And you're certain this note is genuine?" Zachary's tone was skeptical.
The investigator nodded. "Many experts and coroners have confirmed the note's authenticity."
"If that's true, then the claims in this note and the confession seem ludicrous. Are you suggesting Riley Khantell acted under a misconception?"
"No, my lord," the investigator replied, then addressed the courtroom. "According to Riley Khantell's suicide note, she admitted to killing Qaya Wright. She claimed it was a mistake—a result of confronting the deceased about her illicit affair with Sir Milton."
A collective gasp swept through the courtroom. Mahalia subconsciously shot up from her seat.
Marie tapped her arm.
Mahalia turned, startled. "What?"
"Where are you going?" Marie asked, her tone low but firm.
It was then Mahalia realized she was standing, drawing unwanted attention. "Oh... it's just stuffy in here. I need some fresh air," she said, quickly excusing herself.
As Mahalia left the courtroom, the investigator's voice seemed to echo louder in her mind.
"This affair…" Zachary's voice trailed off, leaving space for the investigator to continue.
"Yes, there's proof. We searched the deceased's home and found these letters, confirmed to be from Sir Milton."
The letters were passed to Zachary, who sighed after reviewing them.
"So, there was an affair between the deceased and Sir Milton. Riley Khantell found out, confronted Qaya, and somehow ended up with a knife in her hand... a mistake that cost a life?" Zachary stopped himself, realizing he sounded more like an investigator than a judge.
"Yes," the investigator replied. "Riley was known for her loyalty to her lady. Unable to confront her employer, she chose to confront the mistress. This explains Qaya's presence at Sir Milton's house that day. We suspect it was a case of blackmail gone wrong. Riley was in possession of letters sent by Qaya to Sir Milton and planned to use them against her. After all, Qaya was a prominent journalist while she was alive."
Zachary frowned. "That still doesn't explain Melinda's lack of alibi. How can we be sure she isn't an accomplice?"
Melinda raised her hand hesitantly.
"Now you wish to speak?" Zachary asked coldly.
She nodded meekly. "I... I was an accomplice."
The courtroom erupted in whispers.
"I left Sir Milton's room that night because I wanted to speak with Riley. I was searching for her when I found her stabbing Qaya." Melinda's voice quivered. "She begged me not to tell. She explained how Qaya was Sir Milton's mistress and claimed it was a terrible accident. She made me promise to keep quiet. Now that the truth is out, I've decided to come forward."
Melinda paused before continuing, her tone shifting to one of bitter justification. "I also witnessed Sir Milton being framed. Honestly, I didn't pity Qaya Wright. She was a homewrecker, destroying a married man's family. Her death felt like karma, an end befitting a wicked mistress."
The murmurs in the courtroom turned to nods of approval.
Zachary clenched his fists so tightly his pen snapped. His fury simmered under a calm façade. This is why Awin made me judge—to manipulate the truth so effortlessly.
Despite his outward composure, rage burned within him. The proceedings neared their end, and it was time for Zachary to deliver his verdict.
---
Outside the Courtroom
Milton ascended the courthouse stairs briskly. He had avoided today's session, thinking it unwise to attend, but now he regretted it. The lies being spread were intolerable.
"Awin, you truly are a vile man," he muttered under his breath.
As he reached the courtroom doors, he noticed Mahalia standing just outside, her expression grave.
"My lady," he greeted her, voice tinged with urgency. "I heard the rumors. I'm going to set the record straight."
"Don't," she said flatly, her tone calm but resolute.
Milton blinked. "What? Why?"
"Just don't," she repeated, her shaking hands betraying her outward confidence. "This is Awin you're dealing with. Prolonging this fight will only make things worse. Retreat now and prepare for a stronger comeback."
Milton hesitated. "I'm not so concerned about my reputation. The king has already exiled me to Ragnabor. When I return, the nobles will have moved on to some other scandal. The only person whose opinion matters to me is my wife's, and she believes I'm innocent."
Mahalia nodded slowly. "You see? There's no need to trouble yourself further."
"But—"
"No buts," she interrupted, her voice firm. "The public opinion has already shifted. They believe Qaya Wright deserved her fate. There's no point reopening old wounds. Let it go."
Milton sighed, defeated. He nodded and walked away.
---
The case was concluded, and everyone was heading home. Some were chattering excitedly about the thrill of the trial as though they had witnessed a gripping play or read an enthralling book.
Zachary had charged Melinda as an accessory to the murder, acknowledging her moral culpability. However, as a noble and a member of the king's court, the law required her punishment to be lenient. She was fined an enormous sum and suspended from her duties for a month.
Riley Khantell, the actual murderer, could not be punished—she was already dead. According to the law, her family was held responsible. They were required to pay a fine and perform restitution. Additionally, based on their religious customs, Riley would be denied the liberty and respect traditionally afforded to the dead because of her crimes.
"Let's get going," Marie said, gently grabbing Mahalia's arm.
Mahalia shook her head. "Go ahead. I'll meet you later."
Marie frowned, reluctant to leave. But after a moment, she gave a small nod of understanding. "Okay. Don't take too long."
Mahalia slumped into a nearby seat, staring blankly into the distance. She felt overwhelmed, unsure how she should feel—or if she even had the right to feel anything.
A few rows behind her, two women were busy cleaning the courtroom.
"This case was quite the roller coaster, don't you think?" one of them remarked as she wiped the seats.
"Absolutely," the other agreed, sweeping beneath the benches. "I certainly didn't expect that outcome. Who would have thought that Qaya Wright, the victim, would end up being seen as the villain?"
"That's what confuses me," the first woman replied. "She was murdered in cold blood. Why did public sentiment turn against her? Personally, I think no one deserves to be killed."
"What do you mean?" the second woman shot back. "Are you out of your mind? She was a vixen who destroyed a man's home. It was her vice that drove a loyal servant to commit suicide. Haven't you heard of mistresses ruining families to the point where the legal wife falls into depression—and sometimes even dies? If Qaya Wright hadn't been dealt with, it would've been the innocent wife who suffered."
The women eventually reached Mahalia's row and asked her to move so they could clean. But Mahalia didn't budge. She said nothing, her eyes fixed on some faraway point.
Her thoughts raced. I deserved to die because I might have ruined someone else's life?
The thought pierced her deeply. Even though she hadn't been Milton's mistress, she had to admit that her actions had caused others pain. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she silently sobbed. Was my death justice? Then is my life as Mahalia punishment? She clutched her chest, confusion and despair threatening to overwhelm her.
She heard footsteps approaching but didn't look up. Whoever it was, they surely weren't there for her—or so she thought.
A hand holding a handkerchief appeared in her line of vision. Startled, she looked up to see Zachary standing beside her. He offered her the handkerchief with a faint, almost sad smile. She took it, returning the smile weakly.
"Thanks," she murmured, dabbing her face. "I bought some very spicy pepper puffs earlier. That's why I'm tearing up."
Zachary raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. He took the seat beside her.
Mahalia sighed in annoyance. She wanted to be left alone—she didn't want anyone seeing her in such a vulnerable state. She had even been prepared to lash out at him, but instead, that ridiculous excuse had escaped her lips.
"Pepper puffs, huh?" Zachary chuckled, shaking his head. "Here I was thinking you felt some connection to the victim or something."
Mahalia flinched. "Why would I?" she snapped, her voice tinged with bitterness. "She almost ruined my family."
Zachary turned to face her, his gaze sharp and unrelenting. "It's not strange to feel that way," he said firmly. "I barely knew her, but even I feel disgusted with myself for how I ruled on the case."
Mahalia blinked, confused by his sudden candor. "Why would you feel that way? You did nothing wrong. Based on the evidence, you ruled justly."
"Do you truly believe that evidence was the whole truth?" he asked, his voice heavy with frustration. "If I were more capable, I would've uncovered it. Justice wasn't served—not really. And now people are saying someone deserved to die… It's upsetting."
Mahalia stared at him, caught off guard by the conviction in his voice. She crossed her arms defensively. "What do you mean? Qaya Wright deserved to die. She ruined people's lives."
Zachary frowned. "Not you too, Mahalia Heris," he said quietly. "No one deserves to be killed. Everyone deserves a chance to redeem themselves—especially someone like Qaya, who clearly had a difficult life. I stand by it: she was gravely wronged. No one had the right to take her life."
Mahalia opened her mouth to argue, but no words came out. Her body refused to betray her true feelings. She looked down at her feet, the tension in her chest easing slightly. For the first time since her death as Qaya, she felt a flicker of relief.
She sniffled, then began to sob in earnest. She didn't know why, but Zachary's words gave her solace. And this time, she didn't hold back. Her tears fell freely, her sobs echoing through the courtroom.
Zachary blinked, taken aback. But he quickly recovered, awkwardly patting her back. "Wow… those pepper puffs must've been really spicy," he muttered. "There, there."
---
To be continued