Chapter 186: The Court Assembly
Frederick paced the room restlessly, unable to keep his hands still. He raked his fingers through his hair or rubbed his face repeatedly. Never in his life had he felt such overwhelming anxiety. The moment a court assembly was scheduled to address the accusations of treason against him, his emotions reached a fever pitch.
Damn those Vandermirs.
He muttered under his breath. In all the years he had been plotting rebellion, he had never imagined a situation like this. He had been so confident, believing he could manipulate anyone like a pawn on a chessboard. But the impulsive actions of the Duke and Duchess of Vandermir had shattered his plans.
He had assumed they would never dare speak out, knowing that exposure of their own involvement in treason would bring ruin upon them as well. Yet, the Duchess, blinded by grief over her son’s death, and the Duke, resolved to cut ties despite the cost, had put Frederick’s entire life on the brink of collapse.
Hah, who could’ve foreseen this downfall? Misjudging them was a mistake we both made.
His crimson eyes glinted darkly with resolve. He had no intention of backing down. Desperately, he racked his brain for a way to escape the crisis, but no matter how he turned it over, there was no path to freedom without shedding blood.
If it’s come to this, I have no choice but to strike back, even if it means taking losses.
Having made his decision, Frederick addressed the nobles of his faction, including the Duke of Lester, who had come to discuss future plans. “We’ll admit to the lesser crimes but pin the charge of treason on the Vandermir Dukedom. Once their entire house is branded as traitors, Damian Vandermir will be dealt with automatically.”
“Your Highness, are you sure about this?” one noble ventured cautiously. “The risks of failure are immense. Wouldn’t it be safer to deny all accusations outright?”
Though the suggestion was reasonable, Frederick reacted sharply. “Do you think your approach carries less risk, Count? We’re already in a dangerous position—why waste time debating degrees of risk?”
“M-My apologies, Your Highness,” the noble stammered.
“If you’re going to waste my time with nonsense, keep your mouth shut and follow my orders,” Frederick snapped. “Remember, if I fall, every one of you in this room goes down with me.”
The nobles shrank back, cowed by his menacing warning. They had no choice but to obey the highest authority in the room. Satisfied with their silence, Frederick continued, his voice cold and commanding. “First, we shift the blame for treason onto the Vandermir Dukedom. If that fails…” He clasped his hands behind his back, standing tall. “We resort to our final measure.”
The court assembly convened in the southern hall of the imperial palace, where the Emperor resided. As the appointed hour approached, attendees began to arrive. Nobles aligned with the Crown Prince and those backing Prince Lucas glared at each other with barely concealed hostility as they took their seats. The air crackled with tension, each side determined to crush the other.
Amid this charged atmosphere, Frederick, Lucas, Damian, and Aracila made their entrances in turn. Frederick’s pallor betrayed a sleepless night, while the other three appeared relatively composed. Irked by their calm, Frederick broke the uneasy silence with a barbed remark. “You look remarkably well, brother. It seems you have no intention of helping your poor, unjustly accused sibling?”
His words dripped with sarcasm, but Lucas responded with unruffled ease. “Don’t take it so personally, Frederick. I’m here to thoroughly investigate these treasonous allegations and uncover the truth, ensuring no injustice is done to you.”
“Is that so?” Frederick shot back. “It seems your mind is already biased. I’m not holding my breath for fairness.”
“Oh, I think you might be surprised,” Lucas replied with a faint smile, abruptly ending the exchange. Frederick glared at his half-brother, his mood souring. While his own nerves were fraying, Lucas’s calm demeanor grated on him. It hadn’t always been this way.
The atmosphere grew heavier still when the Emperor entered. The attendees rose as one to offer their respects. “We greet Your Majesty, the Emperor.”
“Be seated,” the Emperor commanded with a wave of his hand. Once everyone was settled and no seats remained empty, his aide stepped forward, standing solemnly at his lord’s side. “We now commence the court assembly. Today’s agenda is to determine the truth of the allegations recently raised against His Highness, Crown Prince Frederick.”
Treason and the murder of Oscar Vandermir.
The mere mention of these grave accusations—either one troubling on its own—prompted uncomfortable coughs from the Crown Prince’s faction. The aide continued, “We will first hear from the Vandermir Dukedom, who initially brought these charges.”
At his signal, the doors swung open, and the Duke and Duchess of Vandermir entered. They crossed the hall with confident strides, stopping before the Emperor. Frederick fixed them with an icy stare.
“Your Majesty, we are grateful for this opportunity to address our grievances,” the Duke and Duchess said, bowing respectfully. The Emperor acknowledged them with a slight nod.
With all eyes in the hall fixed on them, the Duke began. “One year ago, my son Oscar was murdered in the imperial palace, his life cut short. The culprit is none other than His Highness, the Crown Prince.”
He turned sharply, directing a venomous glare at Frederick before continuing. “We have brought a witness to prove it.”
“Bring them in,” the Emperor ordered.
A knight from the Vandermir household escorted Brady into the hall. Overwhelmed by the oppressive atmosphere, Brady trembled and dropped to the floor in a deep bow. Though he had known this moment was coming, facing the Emperor and high-ranking nobles filled him with fear and tension.
“G-Greetings,” he stammered. “My name is Brady.”
The Duke nudged him lightly with his foot. “The Crown Prince hired the guild you worked for to assassinate Oscar. Is that correct?”
Brady nodded cautiously. “Y-Yes, that’s correct. At first, a man in a robe marked with an owl hid his identity, so we didn’t know. But after the job, when guild members started dying mysteriously, we investigated and learned the truth.”
He paused, swallowing hard before continuing clearly. “The owl is a symbol of those who serve under His Highness, the Crown Prince.”
At the mention of the owl, Frederick’s brow twitched faintly. To think that failing to eliminate this insignificant man had led to this moment—it made his blood boil. Suppressing his rage, he struggled to maintain his composure as the Duke raised his voice, now louder and more forceful.
“His Highness attempted to slaughter the entire guild to silence them, but this man survived, foiling his plan! So why did the Crown Prince orchestrate such a deed?”
Turning toward Frederick, the Duke pressed his accusation with dramatic flair, the Duchess nodding vigorously in agreement. Both had come with unwavering resolve, showing no hesitation. “It’s simple! His Highness conspired with the Lester Dukedom to swallow the Vandermir Dukedom whole and eliminate me, who knew of his treasonous plot!”
The Duke had struck at the heart of Frederick’s intentions.
If Damian were to inherit the ducal title, Frederick, who held dangerous secrets, would become expendable—a ticking time bomb. To neutralize the threat, Frederick had orchestrated Oscar’s assassination, planning to eliminate his rival first and later the Duke himself.
That way, the Vandermir Duchy would fall entirely into his grasp, with no fear of secrets leaking out.
“Is there definitive evidence that the Crown Prince was preparing a rebellion?”
The Emperor, who had been sitting silently until now, posed the question. The Duke responded as if he’d been waiting for it.
“Yes, Your Majesty. For about four years, His Highness the Crown Prince coerced us into procuring weapons for his rebellion. Until just two years ago, we were forced to collaborate with Marquis Grant’s family.”
This admission implied that the Vandermir Duchy had been complicit in the rebellion to some extent, but at this point, the Duke had no choice but to confess openly.
Quickly and cunningly, he added, “Of course, I intended to inform Your Majesty of this later, before His Highness made any grave mistakes.”
Frederick, fully aware that the Duke had no such intentions, let out a hollow laugh. Ignoring him, the Duke raised his voice again.
“But after Marquis Grant’s fall, exposed for purchasing dark magic artifacts, it’s clear His Highness brought in the Lester Duchy to orchestrate a new scheme!”
“Watch your tongue, Duke!”
The Duke of Lester slammed the table in retort. As a heated glare passed between the two dukes, Frederick spoke up.
“Your Majesty, grant me the right to speak. I can no longer tolerate the Duke’s one-sided, distorted claims.”
He rose and made his request with measured courtesy. The Emperor, deeming the Duke’s accusations sufficiently heard, nodded.
Finally given the floor, Frederick countered calmly. Pointing at the Duke, he declared, “The ones truly plotting rebellion are not me, but the Vandermir Duchy. Caught red-handed, they’re now trying to pin the blame on me!”
“That’s preposterous! Absolutely not!”
The Duke, pale with shock, immediately denied it, staring at the Crown Prince with incredulous fury.
Frederick brushed it off effortlessly and continued.
“Let me be frank. Years ago, I discovered the Vandermir Duchy was engaging in tax evasion and smuggling through a certain merchant guild. To confirm this, I asked Marquis Grant to deal with that guild.”
Better to be seen as a Crown Prince who took bribes than a traitor. That was his calculation.
While preparing for the court assembly, Frederick had abandoned the idea of remaining an untarnished prince. His opponents held too many cards.
Instead, he decided to admit to lesser faults, focusing on deflecting the gravest charges.
“The Duchy, realizing I was onto them, forced bribes on me and threatened me to look the other way. Since Marquis Grant was already in their pocket, I, powerless at the time, had no choice but to comply.”
With a practiced expression of shame and guilt, Frederick artfully twisted the Duke’s testimony.
“Afterward, I played along with the Duke and Marquis while quietly building my strength, waiting for the moment to strike back.”
Seamlessly distancing himself from Marquis Grant, he spoke with the same dramatic flair as the Duke had earlier.
“Then, when it came to light that Marquis Grant was purchasing dark magic artifacts, I grew suspicious and investigated further. That’s when I uncovered the Vandermir Duchy stockpiling weapons illegally to prepare for rebellion.”
Aracila watched Frederick’s performance—half in awe, half in disbelief—like he was a one-man theatrical troupe.
His relentless malice, clinging to the Vandermir Duchy even at death’s door, was nothing short of tenacious.
“When the Duchy realized I had caught them again, they sent their heir to deceive me. Of course, it didn’t work. But it worried me.”
“What do you mean?”
“One of the empire’s three great ducal houses, a pillar of the nation. If even one of them rebels, the empire would suffer immense damage.”
In an instant, Frederick transformed from a bribe-taking prince into one who genuinely cared for the nation, placing a hand over his heart.
“So I decided to eliminate the heir who followed his father into treason, to weaken their forces. If it meant staining my hands with blood, so be it.”
Clenching his fists, Frederick adopted a resolute expression.
If the Vandermir Duchy were branded traitors, Oscar’s death would hardly matter—especially if it was framed as an act to thwart rebellion.
“But in the end, the Duke, unrepentant even after his son’s death, harbored resentment and sought to frame me for treason.”
Frederick touched his forehead, sighing pitifully. At that, his allied nobles leapt to his defense, lambasting the Duke.
“This is worse than beastly! How can someone so shameless wear a human face?”
“Your Majesty, the Duke claims he purchased weapons on His Highness’s orders, but not a single one ever reached the Crown Prince!”
“Frankly, I find this entire accusation suspicious. It all unfolded so grandly at Sir Vandermir’s party, didn’t it? The whole family must be conspiring to trap His Highness!”
As if they’d forgotten their earlier calls for Damian’s execution, they now painted him as part of the plot, brandishing their accusations with sharp conviction.
Despite the worsening situation, Aracila and Damian remained calm. The Duke, however, turned ashen with rage.
He had merely dipped his toes into the rebellion before being betrayed, yet now he was being cast as the mastermind.
“Who’s the shameless one here? Didn’t His Highness order us to procure weapons and hold them until the time was right?”
“That’s your one-sided claim, Duke. Where’s the proof? Even a letter?”
The Duke flinched, falling silent.
He had burned every incriminating letter exchanged with Frederick, fearing they could become liabilities. After all, he had gone along with the Crown Prince’s treasonous plans.
Unable to produce further evidence, the Duke faltered, and the Duke of Lester seized the moment, bellowing triumphantly.
“There’s no clear evidence that His Highness was plotting rebellion! The only claims come from the Vandermir Duchy, his sworn enemies, and are utterly unreliable!”
No one countered or challenged him. Frederick covered his mouth, a smile playing on his lips.
His faction’s nobles, sensing victory, grinned—until a low, smooth voice rang through the assembly hall.
“Then I suppose I’ll have to present credible evidence.”
All eyes turned to Lucas. The prince, who had watched the proceedings with unruffled composure, was speaking for the first time.
Frederick’s shoulders stiffened. Despite his efforts to uncover Lucas’s hand before the assembly, he had failed completely.
He glared at his brother, a mix of unease and resentment in his eyes.
“Is Your Highness the Prince claiming to have evidence of the Crown Prince’s treason?”
“Indeed. In case my younger brother was unjustly accused, I, as his elder, took it upon myself to investigate.”
At the sanctimonious remark, Frederick couldn’t hold back a disbelieving laugh. When had this weakling, who once wandered aimlessly outside the empire, become so brazen?
Unfazed, Lucas smiled serenely at his brother and spoke with gentle ease.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
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