They Hated Me in My First Life, But Now I Have the Love System Chapter 592: The Defense has... One More Witness

The hall was still echoing with Daniel’s final words when a chair scraped sharply against the stone floor. Heads turned as a young woman rose from the defense bench. Lora, the housekeeper’s second daughter.

She gripped the edge of the table for a mont, gathering herself, then stepped forward. Her hands trembled, but her voice rang out with a strength that surprised many.

"Your Honors. Everyone in this hall." Her eyes swept over the room, stopping briefly on the Pri Minister, then Daniel. "I am not just here as a trained lawyer or as a subject of his highness but also as a daughter."

A murmur rose in the chamber. A few of the younger servants lowered their eyes, unwilling to et her gaze.

"My father is many things, strict, demanding, sotis even harsh. But a poisoner? A traitor? No." Her voice cracked slightly, but she pressed on.

"He has served this household longer than most of us have been alive. He raised and my siblings under this roof while giving his life to protect His Highness’s. And now you ask to believe that the man who regards his highness highly, taught honesty, who punished when I lied, who would rather starve than steal, suddenly decided to betray everything he stood for?"

Lora turned toward the bottle placed on the evidence table. Her jaw tightened. "You call that proof? A single bottle found in a pantry anyone can access? A recording from a hidden cara, conveniently placed and conveniently checked only after suspicion fell? Tell , what loyal servant would stand openly over His Highness’s food to pour poison if he truly wished him harm? Who poisons slowly, in plain sight, instead of striking cleanly if their heart is so dark?"

Several attendants shifted uneasily at her words. A few exchanged quick looks, as though the question had forced them to reconsider.

"My father is no fool," Lora said fiercely, her eyes flashing. "If he wanted to betray, he would not be so clumsy. The truth is simpler, uglier: soone is framing him. Soone who knew the court would believe the worst. And now we are so desperate for answers that we’ll sacrifice a loyal man to protect our fear."

The Pri Minister’s brow furrowed, though he said nothing.

Lora’s voice softened suddenly. Her eyes shimred as she looked at the crowd, then at the bench where her father stood in chains. "I cannot stand here and tell you who the real culprit is. I cannot unravel plots spun in the dark. But I can tell you this: my father is innocent. And if you condemn him today, you will not just destroy a man, you will stain Riverum’s honor by silencing loyalty in favor of convenience."

Her last words shook with emotion. "My father does not deserve this. Please... see the man, not the lie placed before you."

The hall was silent. Too silent.

So of the servants looked stricken, blinking rapidly to hold back tears. Others clenched their fists, torn between reason and the rawness of her plea. The nobles sat stiff, masks of neutrality on their faces, though their eyes betrayed flickers of doubt.

And Nnenna... she sat frozen, heart pounding. She could see the conflict breaking across the room. Logic against love. Proof against loyalty. Truth against appearances.

The air itself seed to tighten, waiting for the hamr of judgnt to fall.

"Barrister Lora" Daniel called out almost unwillingly. "You seem to have forgotten that another bottle was found on him at the ti of arrest and another in his room when it was searched. What explanation do you have for that?"

Silence

Lora had no words.

The evidence was just too strong.

And so, she slowly sat down in defeat.

Seeing this, the Pri Minister slowly sat up on his seat. His expression was carved in stone, his voice calm but cold.

"We have heard enough," he declared, his gaze sweeping across the crowded hall. "The evidence is clear, the testimonies are damning, and the suspicions undeniable. It grieves , yes, it grieves , that such betrayal could co from one so trusted. But Riverum’s justice must be blind to sentint."

A low ripple ran through the crowd. The housekeeper’s shoulders sagged, nanny, his daughters clutched each other’s hands tightly.

The Pri Minister lifted the gavel, wooden mallet poised above the circle on the desk. "For attempted regicide, the punishnt can be no less than death. The court shall—"

"Your Honor!"

The voice rang sharp, respectful, but firm enough to cut through the silence.

All eyes snapped to Nnenna, who had risen from her seat.

"The defense," she said, her chin lifted, "has one more witness to call to the stand."

A gasp rippled through the courtroom.

Daniel slamd a hand on the table. "Objection! This is absurd! The defense has already rested its case. We will not allow a child to—"

"Order," the Pri Minister barked, though his brow twitched with irritation. His gaze bore into Nnenna. "One more witness? Who?"

Even the defense lawyers twisted in their seats, glaring at her. One of them hissed under his breath, "You’re jeopardizing everything! This isn’t a ga—"

But then Lora, trembling, turned her eyes toward Nnenna. She saw sothing there, calm, unshaken, determined. For reasons she couldn’t explain, trust sparked.

"Let her speak," Lora whispered hoarsely. "Please... let her."

Nnenna nodded once in thanks. Then she took a step forward, her voice steady as she declared:

"I call... the housekeeper to the stand."

The words rang through the hall like a bell struck in silence.

Gasps rippled across the court. Heads turned sharply. Whispers swelled like a restless tide.

Daniel shot up to his feet, eyes blazing. "What is the aning of this?! You cannot call the defendant as your witness—"

"Yes, I can," Nnenna cut him off, her tone calm but edged with steel. She didn’t so much as glance at him; her gaze was fixed on the Pri Minister.