CHAPTER 98…………………………………………….
Archibald’s trial was held at the Eckhardt Court.
A summons had been sent to the Count of Bright’s family, but they sent back a written refusal, saying he was a “disowned son.”
There had been too many witnesses who saw him kidnapping a child.
Child abuse was considered a serious crime in the Empire — once caught, there was no escape from ruin.
I sat quietly with Ayla in the corner of the courtroom, watching the trial.
It was at her request — she wanted to know how criminals were punished.
The atmosphere was so tense that Ayla clung tightly to my arm, visibly frightened, though she didn’t look away.
“Therefore, the accused, Archibald Bright, must be given a heavy sentence under Imperial law. Furthermore, as you can see from these materials, there are additional crimes to consider.”
The prosecutor’s mouth didn’t rest for a moment as he revealed Archibald’s wrongdoings.
The evidence I had gathered proved very useful in sending Archibald away for good.
“He knew how to handle explosives. Disguised as a miner, he planted explosives throughout the mines and detonated them. The mines collapsed, and the thousand-year forest — the pride of the Eckhardt Duchy — suffered severe damage. By a miracle, no lives were lost, but many were left disabled, and all of them suffer from horrific trauma.”
The prosecutor approached Archibald and raised his cuffed hands high.
“These hands have done nothing but evil. Had fortune not intervened, how many lives would have been destroyed by these hands?”
At his words, the anger that had been barely contained among the spectators burst forth.
“Give my wife’s legs back!”
“You bastard! Because of you, my brother will live with burns for the rest of his life!”
“Die for your crimes!”
If the guards hadn’t performed a thorough inspection of the audience beforehand, Archibald would already have been stoned to death by the victims.
The fury filling the courtroom was palpable.
Crude insults flew through the air, and I covered Ayla’s ears.
“Better not to listen. They’re cursing the criminal.”
“O-okay…”
For once, Ayla suppressed her usual curiosity and nodded.
But no matter how much I covered her ears, the loudest shouts still broke through.
“You damned, filthy bastard!”
A thunderous roar shook the courtroom. Ayla flinched, and even my own ears rang from the volume.
The voice came from a man who stood out even among the crowd — seated in a wheelchair, his body wrapped in bandages as though he had suffered severe burns.
“I thought it was admirable that someone so young worked so hard — you worthless son of a bitch!”
He wept as he hurled curses and hatred like an endless storm.
The courtroom was filled with victims — or their families.
Lloyd had hired many miners for the Cat’s Eye project, which naturally meant there were many casualties.
Generous compensation had been paid, but no amount of money could restore their lives.
There was only one thing the victims wanted:
That Archibald pay for his crimes.
Even the prosecutor seemed moved by the outcry, turning toward the judge’s bench.
“Your Honor, I beg you — please deliver punishment to this criminal.”
The judge was none other than Lloyd Eckhardt, the duke and lord of the territory.
He listened silently, then struck his gavel once.
Bang.
The deep sound of black wood echoed heavily through the court.
Since Lloyd could not yet speak publicly, Pablo read the judgment for him.
“Now, His Grace the Duke will pronounce the sentence—”
“Please wait a moment.”
The voice came unexpectedly.
Everyone turned — it came from the defendant’s stand.
Archibald’s appointed lawyer had remained silent throughout the trial. So who was interrupting now?
It was Archibald himself.
“Defendant, do you still have something to say in your defense?”
“I have no excuses. However…”
Archibald’s eyes shifted — toward me.
Was he planning something again?
Would he reveal Aslan’s existence?
But I was already bound to Lloyd by a marriage contract.
Revealing that here, in Lloyd’s court, would gain him nothing.
My mind raced.
I waited tensely for his next words.
Then—
“I wish to confess to one more crime.”
“A crime?”
That was far from what I expected.
‘What’s he playing at?’
His eyes were vacant.
He hadn’t looked sane the last time I saw him, but now he looked even worse — dark circles under his eyes, his gaze unfocused, staring past everyone at something unseen.
It couldn’t be just prison exhaustion — he’d only been there a day.
Whatever the cause, his words sent another shockwave through the room.
“Another crime?!”
“What else did that madman do?!”
The courtroom erupted again.
Lloyd quickly struck the gavel.
Bang, bang, bang!
“Order!”
Pablo’s booming voice filled the hall.
The noise died down, though tension lingered.
With visible effort, Pablo suppressed his disgust and asked:
“Defendant, speak. What crime are you referring to?”
“I falsely accused an innocent person.”
“A false accusation?”
“I can also make poison.”
Explosives weren’t enough — now poison too?!
The glares directed at him grew harsher, mine included — though for a different reason.
Was he trying to die taking the blame for everything?
Five years ago, Mars had been poisoned — and I had planned to prove that he had orchestrated it himself, using poison made by Archibald, to clear my own name.
But now—
‘What is he scheming?’
I watched him closely, ready to intervene and reveal my identity as the princess if needed.
Then Archibald glanced at me and — with a twisted, broken smile — said:
“The one who tried to poison Prince Mars was not Princess Minerva… but me.”
The courtroom roared.
Gasps and exclamations broke out everywhere.
But his voice alone rang clear.
“I hated that man — sitting beside Gabriel, pretending to belong there. I wanted him dead. Please, punish me for that crime as well.”
He denied my guilt — and invented one for himself.
Meanwhile…
Aslan slowly regained consciousness, still dazed.
His last memory was of the dressing room in the annex.
He’d been feeling unwell since the storm clouds began to gather but had tried to hide it — until he eventually collapsed.
He had never been this sick before.
His whole body burned unbearably hot.
Tears welled in his eyes, but he didn’t have the strength to wipe them away.
Instinctively, Aslan sought Minerva.
‘Mama…’
But no sound came out.
Still, as always, a familiar, gentle touch brushed his cheek — wiping his tears away.
A soft, delicate hand stroked his hair.
‘Ah… Mama’s hand. It feels nice…’
The coolness of the touch felt as though the hand had been dipped in cold water.
Each stroke seemed to draw the heat out of his body.
He didn’t know how long it went on — until at last, he managed to open his eyes.
“Huh?”
And froze.
He thought he’d be lying in his room, with Minerva beside him — but instead, everything was pitch black.
“Mama!”
Panicked, Aslan ran around, calling for her.
No matter where or when he called, Minerva always answered — but now, there was only silence.
“Mama, where are you…?”
Tears welled again.
Had he really been kidnapped? Would he never see his mother again?
“Uwaaaah!”
Aslan sat down and cried loudly.
Then, as he lifted his arms to wipe his tears—
“Huh? Huhh?”
He stopped crying and stared at his hands.
Were his hands… this big before?
His once-chubby fingers were now long and slender.
His arms — his legs — all of them were stretched and grown.
Mesmerized by his longer limbs, Aslan thought—
“Did I… already become an adult?!”
