From some point, information that he was unaware of began to surface.

Facts unearthed from my independent investigation, not shared with him.

From now on, the trial would unfold in a direction that no one had anticipated.

“At the time of the fire at Fisher Mansion, all the town people mobilized to put out the fire died.”

“What are you talking about now?”

“All of that, too, happened after Lady Fisher’s lawsuit was settled.”

“…”

“Is it just a coincidence that a lot of people died around the same time?”

It wasn’t a question seeking an answer.

In the changed atmosphere, I spoke again.
The current topic being discussed had deviated from the trial’s purpose, but the judge was bewildered and unaware of this fact. Now was the opportunity.

“I will ask again, Lady Fisher. Is it really a coincidence that so many people died, including your father?”

“It’s a slander! I [dash].”

“The maid who raised Lady Fisher suffered from a long-term illness. Even if left alone, she would have died. However, Lady Fisher still killed her.”

“Rivianna!”

“Why, I wonder? The answer is simple.”

Because it was advantageous for her.

I stared at Margaret without taking a single breath.

The true face of a friend, whom I had seen again through resentment after casting aside affection, was much more vile than I had imagined.

On that day, when she found out, did the woman sitting across from me know how blood-boiling it felt? Perhaps not. To her, the most pitiful and wretched thing would be herself.

Even after inflicting harm on others, she would say that the small wound inflicted on her was the most painful.

“The maid who raised Lady Fisher couldn’t continue working for Lord Crayton’s household due to a prolonged illness. However, she was still connected to Crayton.”

“……..”

“That’s why, in the past, Crayton’s young heir tried to use her to pass on information. Long ago, there wouldn’t be many paying attention to a retired maid.”

“It’s all nonsense! No, no! Respected judge, this is irrelevant to the current trial! Please stop her statement right now!”

The now attention-seeking judge rolled his big eyes.

In principle, my words should be stopped, but his face showed hesitation.

Despite wearing a ridiculous wig and a worn-out gown, he was still a person. It would be challenging to shake off his interest. His eyes were no different from the audience looking down on us from above.

Lady Crayton engaging in such a farce was not a common sight.

Instead of raising the gavel, the judge expressed regret to Margaret by shaking his head.

It seemed he wanted to hear more of my story.

I willingly continued for the sake of meeting his expectations.

“Over a decade ago, evidence that could prove Crayton’s innocence was in the hands of that maid. And Lady Fisher knew this fact.”

“Don’t lie!”

Of course, it was a lie.

At that time, what Margaret’s stepfather possessed was not evidence to prove Crayton’s innocence, but rather a message from my brother, intending to reveal the meeting place to deceive me.

However, would there be anyone here capable of judging whether it was a lie or not?

Repeated lies only create contradictions, but one lie mixed with truth is difficult to discern. I had built trust until now for this moment.
I strengthened my eyes, shining even brighter, as I faced a trial where I couldn’t see a step ahead.

Now Margaret’s face was paler than ever.

No matter how foolish, she should have an idea of the repercussions my accusation would bring.

However, there was no sympathy in that appearance. It was simply disgusting.

“Lady Fisher, or rather Margaret Fisher, has been targeting Crayton for a very long time.”

“No!”

“As someone’s daughter, friend, wife, sovereign, wearing various masks and treating people, she didn’t hesitate to sacrifice others for her own purposes.”

“Are you going to keep listening to this absurd nonsense?”

Today’s trial was not to dispute inheritance rights. So far, enduring Margaret, waiting for her to rise higher, was for this very moment.

Exposed in front of countless eyes, ridiculed, and eventually, rolling into the abyss.

One thing, it’s not over yet.

What you’ve done is by no means trivial to end it like this.

I suppressed the choked sob, raising my finger.

I could finally utter the words I had longed to say.

“My daughter is dead. Because of that woman.”

“Daughter? You, too [dash].”

“I want to ask again. Whether the unusual incident at the academy was just a coincidence. And who benefited from that incident.”

“It’s not me! Oh, yes! I’m not such a remarkable person! I’m just [dash].”

“Felt von Biden.”

The courtroom, which had been noisy, fell silent at the name that hadn’t been mentioned for a long time. It was a dangerous statement. It was a name that should never be called, especially from the front.

Felt von Biden. He was the Emperor’s half-brother and a traitor. And he was dead.

Mentioning him would cause a significant stir.

“Lady Fisher was acting under his orders.”

Nevertheless, I willingly chose to be the whistleblower.

To see that face.

I twisted my lips into a crooked smile as I gazed at Margaret.

You wanted what was mine. If that’s the case, I’ll give you anything.

But you need to know.

What to give is not chosen by the recipient; it depends on the giver’s heart.