Chapter 38
Eden stared down at his hand. Even such a light touch sent his heart racing like a teenager’s, his throat tightening.
“…It was a promise I’d already made.”
It was ridiculous—yet he didn’t dislike it. Strange, really.
“With a heart as soft as yours, I worry how you’ll manage in such a harsh world.”
His voice was a shade lower, tinged with something unreadable. Cecilia let out a quiet laugh. That he was worried about her—for not letting traitors die easily—was amusing.
“With you by my side, Your Grace, what could I possibly fear?”
Her voice was soft as she slowly moved her hand atop his. Her slender fingers brushed lightly across his manicured nails, then traced the length of his long fingers, one by one.
“…Isn’t that right?”
At last, her fingers reached the back of his hand, and the two of them fully intertwined their hands. Eden let out a faint sigh when he realized they were holding hands.
“Yes.”
Eden wrapped one arm gently around her waist. Because he sat at the edge of the bed, Cecilia’s body shifted with him, sliding closer like a paper doll drawn toward him.
“If I give it my all, everything else will follow.”
As he spoke, Eden pressed his face against the curve of her neck. Cecilia lifted her hand and ran her fingers through his soft brown hair. Then she relaxed, leaning into him—like someone who trusted her partner completely.
“You’re right.”
Eden chuckled quietly at the sensation. He tightened his embrace, pulling her closer. In his arms, Cecilia closed her eyes. She couldn’t know everything, but one thing was certain.
Everything was changing. The fate of House Rain. Her fate. And the fate of those who once threatened her in a previous life.
It meant the future she knew might no longer come to pass. But Cecilia had no intention of losing this war—not in this life.
She wouldn’t allow it.
Not long after, House Nova stood trial for their crimes. With all the evidence already gathered, there was no reason to delay proceedings.
“What were they thinking?”
“Who knows…”
Cecilia sat behind Eden and the Crown Prince, listening to the hushed murmurs of the audience.
“Pretending to be a tiger in a den without one… maybe they convinced themselves they truly were.”
The click of a tongue conveyed not sympathy but scorn. After all, such a downfall could happen to anyone. Noble houses often left their estates in the hands of deputies while staying in the capital’s townhouses.
“The trial of Count Oliver Nova for embezzlement and abuse of authority as a steward begins now.”
But rarely were such rights given to a mere vassal house, let alone the promise to grant any wish once. Even if Count Nova had once saved Curtis’s life, it had been far too much trust to show someone outside the bloodline.
“Count Nova used his delegated authority to deceive Duke Rain, extort his people, and embezzle taxes meant for the Crown.”
The prosecutor spoke forcefully, each word heavy. Count Nova and his son bowed their heads slightly, saying nothing.
“We have witnesses and documentation to present. First, we call the commoner, Hamil.”
All the evidence was already laid bare. The only way for Count Nova to seek a lighter sentence was to follow Cecilia’s terms.
“I paid every tax—head tax, tolls, even liquor tax. I had no idea I’d been reduced to a slave.”
“You truly didn’t know? Were you not given special treatment?”
“If I were a slave, why would I pay taxes? I’ve been wronged!”
Pressed by the investigator, Hamil protested, clearly aggrieved. He was right—if he truly had become a slave, then collecting taxes from him had been illegal.
“Then why is your name on this list? Any idea?”
“S-someone at the tavern…”
Hamil hesitated.
“They said if I signed, I’d get a tax discount… I didn’t think much of it!”
It had been nothing more than idle banter at a tavern—something done in jest among commoners.
“If I knew I was becoming a slave, why would I pay taxes the same as before? What would I gain?”
He’d never imagined his name would end up in such a ledger. He hadn’t even signed it himself—he couldn’t read or write.
“There are countless victims like Hamil. We’ve brought two more just in case…”
“Bring them in.”
At the judge’s command, those who’d been reduced from commoners to slaves entered the courtroom, shuffling nervously. All of them echoed Hamil’s testimony.
“We also submit three ledgers: one listing the enslaved, another detailing the taxes collected from them, and the third—the falsified records intended for submission to Duke Rain.”
The dates when these people were listed as slaves matched the dates they’d encountered shady figures at the tavern. Moreover, the ledger showing money received listed them, while the ledger meant for Curtis had their names and taxes erased.
“Count Nova, do you have anything to say for yourself?”
The judge cleared his throat with a low, deliberate cough, then opened his mouth to speak. The evidence was overwhelming, and House Nova offered no defense—only repeated claims of remorse.
“There is no rebuttal, so there can be no doubt.”
The outcome of this trial had been sealed from the start. Even if Count Nova had tried to argue, the judge was bound to deliver the verdict the Emperor desired.
“Embezzlement of taxes owed to the Crown. Dereliction of duty. Exploiting the common folk under the guise of stewardship, while deceiving their rightful lord.”
At least things had gone smoothly. The judge began reciting the verdict like a memorized script.
“These crimes cannot be repaid with mere coin.”
“Therefore, all assets are to be confiscated, and the family struck from the registry of nobility. However, as such matters are typically handled under customary law, the court will consider this precedent in its judgment.”
Count Nova clenched his jaw, lips pressed into a thin line. His son bowed his head, face dark with despair.
“First, the status of those wrongfully enslaved shall be restored. The confiscated assets are to be split evenly between House Rain and the Imperial Treasury.”
Neither Ilina nor her mother would be spared the crushing weight of this downfall. The Countess of Nova was already sobbing, and Ilina bit her lip hard, her eyes red with unshed tears.
“Furthermore, the ringleaders—Oliver Nova and Jason Nova—are hereby sentenced to three years of forced labor.”
Cecilia watched it all in silence, her expression blank, as if merely observing a play.
“However, given that House Nova served House Rain faithfully for over a decade…”
The judge’s commanding voice echoed through the hushed courtroom, where even the fall of a pin would have sounded loud.
“And because Duke Rain and His Majesty the Emperor have expressed willingness to show leniency for what they deemed a brief lapse in judgment…”
Cecilia’s eyes slowly turned toward the judge. Neither their titles nor their lives would be stripped away.
“House Nova shall be permitted to retain its name in the registry of nobility.”
At that moment, tears spilled from Ilina’s eyes like glistening pearls. The tragedy of a beauty in despair always carried a certain allure, and the eyes of weak-willed men subtly shifted toward her.
“This concludes the proceedings.”
As the final sentence echoed, Cecilia locked eyes with Ilina. The girl glared at them—at Eden and Cecilia—as if she were the wronged party, the victim.
Completely oblivious to the fact that her “pretty little head” remained atop her shoulders only because she still had some use.
“Cecilia, don’t respond.”
Ilina was a perfect actor in Cecilia’s play. Someday, Cecilia wanted her to take on the role of killing Eden.
A tragedy in which one kills the person they loved most, only to die at the hands of that same beloved—what a delicious tale that would be.
“If only the letter hadn’t gone missing…”
As Ilina murmured bitterly, Cecilia turned her eyes to Eden. He was calmly surveying Ilina and the Countess Nova where they sat.
“Let’s not speak of it, Your Grace. It was a mistake, that’s all. No amount of regret can undo it.”
The letter exchanged between Ilina and her father—their proof of conspiracy—was lost. It had been meant as key evidence, but Cecilia’s momentary lapse in oversight had allowed a maid to discard it. By the time they realized, the letter had already been burned.
“It doesn’t matter. There’s no way they can recover from this.”
And no one had been punished for the loss of such vital evidence.
“Wandering in limbo might be the greater torment.”
Eden already suspected that Cecilia had protected Ilina, sparing her from being tried as an accomplice.
“Let’s go.”
Cecilia took Eden’s hand and stood. Aster was already striding down the central aisle, leaving the hall. As the Emperor’s proxy, no one else could leave before he did.
“I want a drink tonight.”
Cecilia murmured impulsively.
“I’ll join you.”
Eden agreed without hesitation. Cecilia turned her gaze back toward Ilina. Their eyes locked—Ilina’s, still burning with resentment.
“….”
Cecilia wanted her to know—true despair lay far deeper than she could possibly imagine.
Cecilia smiled slowly, her lips curling in a quiet, cutting smirk—the same kind of mocking sneer Ilina had once given her.
