Chapter 55: The Vote
The judge made a swift motion with his large hand, urging the courtroom to co back to order, and addressed Altair in a serious voice,
"This is indeed a concrete piece of evidence, Revered Altair. However, given young Lord Ashter’s reputation, one cannot dismiss the possibility that the opium pipe might have been planted at the scene to fra him for Lady Rosalie’s abduction. After all, Lord Raphael had no motive to commit such a cri."
The judge’s words pierced Damien’s heart with a painful spear of frustration. He furrowed his perfectly-shaped black eyebrows and rushed to interject, his voice acquiring a loud, almost nacing tone,
"Allow
to convey my utmost respect, Your Honor, as I present my argunt in response to Revered Altair’s evidence. While reputation remains an elusive notion, susceptible to manipulation, a concrete confirmation of one’s misdeeds holds undeniable weight. I fail to comprehend how sothing as transient as reputation could be prioritized over a definitive revelation of culpability!"
The duke’s impassioned plea resonated with a touch of fervor, though the Imperial Judge, ever composed, returned a stern, reproachful gaze and issued his response with a hint of caution, a forewarning tone underlying his words,
"I humbly implore Your Grace to exercise restraint, for we must avoid any actions that may lead to your exclusion from this significant trial. The matter at hand encompasses not solely Lord Raphael’s esteed reputation, but the entire House of Ashter, whose honor might be jeopardized. Hence, each statent and accusation warrants ticulous examination, even considering the possibility of subjecting them to a comprehensive discussion and, perhaps, even a democratic vote."
Damien’s deanor revealed a tinge of exasperation as he directed an uneasy glance at the Emperor, whose unwavering gaze fixated on Raphael’s pale yet composed countenance. Although Damien acknowledged the importance of adhering to the law and the prescribed judicial process, he couldn’t shake the feeling of utter helplessness and vulnerability, particularly as Rosalie’s hopeful gray eyes sought solace in his own.
Finally, wearied by the theatrics of unfolding events, Loyd Rische inclined his head towards Lord Hemill, signaling him to rise—a gesture that the man complied with sowhat reluctantly. Stepping forth, Eugene positioned himself beside Damien, turned towards the Judge, and released a brief exhale, only to follow it with a resonant and firm voice.
"Your Honor, regrettably, the trial must proceed now. The connection between Lord Raphael and his sister, Lady Rosalie, is not as straightforward as it may seem."
The Judge arched an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair with arms gracefully crossed before his chest.
"Please elaborate, Lord Hemill."
The Judge’s assistant pivoted once more, his warm brown eyes beseeching Rosalie for permission to continue. In response, she offered a deliberate yet assured nod, encouraging him to proceed. Her only wish was to bring this ordeal to a close.
"Lady Rosalie Ashter’s portrayal as an adored and cherished daughter, doted on by her brother, is a notion that once prevailed. However, it is with profound regret that I must apprise all those gathered in this esteed chamber that Lady Rosalie has endured a perpetual cycle of both physical and... sexual abuse by her own brother, Lord Raphael Ashter!"
"How preposterous! What an utter disgrace!"
Duke Amado exclaid, his emotions almost propelling him to his feet, his agitation evidently contagious, for a murmur of disapproval rippled through the assembled crowd. However, with a subtle yet commanding gesture, Lord Hemill entreated the Duke to resu his seat, thus restoring a semblance of decorum to the gathering. Lord Hemill proceeded, his resonant words perating the room once more with a sense of authority.
"I have diligently questioned the staff who served the Ashter residence, and their unanimous testimony corroborates Lady Rosalie’s claims. Furthermore, when we consider her recent betrothal to His Grace, Grand Duke Damien Dio, it strengthens the argunt that young Lord Raphael Ashter indeed possessed a clear motive for abducting his own sister."
As Eugene ticulously substantiated the allegations, Damien’s keen golden eyes remained steadfastly fixed upon Rosalie. Her countenance bore an unyielding composure, akin to sculpted ivory, though her luminous gray eyes glistened with teardrops like radiant dew. Nothing could wrench his gaze away from her—neither the distressing utterances emanating from Lord Hemill’s lips nor the tumultuous, stunned whispers echoing throughout the courtroom, plunging it into an abyss of bewildernt.
Amidst the chaos, one thing remained certain—the nauseating churn within Damien’s stomach, akin to tightly bound knots, and the painful sensation akin to hundreds of needles and nails piercing his heart.
As Lord Hemill, at last, concluded his statent, an ominous hush once again enveloped the courtroom, broken only by the faint, stifled laughter that escaped Raphael’s lips as he fixated on his sister’s pallid countenance. This proved to be the final straw.
In an instant, Damien sprang from his seat, bridging the distance to Lord Ashter with remarkable swiftness. His eyes ablaze with fury, he unleashed a blow of unparalleled strength upon Raphael’s face, sending him sprawling to the ground. The echoes of shocked gasps reverberated throughout the chamber, but Damien was beyond caring at that mont—all he could perceive was a crimson haze of anger, and all he yearned for was to exact retribution upon this wretched mockery of a human being with his very own hands.
"Your Grace, I implore you! Please, regain your composure!"
Sir Logan swiftly leaped over the bench, enfolding Damien in his powerful arms as the Duke continued to struggle with the fervor of a trapped and untad beast, yearning to break free from his subordinate’s firm grasp.
"Order! Your Grace, compose yourself, else I shall be compelled to remove you from these proceedings!"
Despite the Judge’s resolute admonition, it seed to have little effect on the Duke. Even with three of his mightiest knights now restraining him, Damien’s strength tested their abilities. Alard that such tumultuous behavior might jeopardize Damien’s position in the trial, Rosalie stood up and raised her voice, a blend of fear and desperation coloring her words,
"Your Grace, I beseech you, compose yourself. Trust , it’s alright! Everything is alright."
To everyone’s astonishnt, the girl’s voice seed to weave a magical enchantnt over him—his tense fra eased, and the encroaching shadows of madness vanished from his countenance. Adjusting his attire, he gently released himself from the firm grip of his knights and directed a swift glance towards his betrothed, whose eyes remained wide, attentively observing his every move. With a gesture, he signaled for everyone to resu their positions, offering an apologetic nod to the Judge, even as his gaze bore an intense glare toward the captive Raphael, now firmly held by other guards.
The Judge released a long, weary sigh and resud,
"The House of Ashter stands as a venerable lineage, steadfast in its allegiance to the Imperial family for generations, thereby upholding the stability of political power. Nevertheless, grave accusations shroud Lord Raphael Ashter, including one that has long evaded scrutiny. Hence, according to the tenets of Imperial Law, the grave decision of capital punishnt rests on a joint vote encompassing both the esteed mbers of the Imperial Council and the Imperial family itself."
A fleeting sweep of his weary eyes traversed the assembly, pausing montarily upon the vacant seat that once belonged to Sebastian Steinhem. With a brief mont of contemplation, he redirected his gaze toward Rosalie.
"In light of the current... absence of Lord Steinhem, I request Lady Rosalie Ashter to step forward and participate in the voting process as a representative."
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