The Case of the Commandery Princess and the Prime Minister’s Narrow Escape
Chapter 25
Azula’s gaze settled on Dio, who was still holding the Nerasa Kingdom’s letter from Trevan Pearcliff. He hoped the Basileus wouldn’t tear it up, because it was the only copy. Of course, he could not let anyone know that truth.
The only other person who knew the truth was Alise, who knew to ask for a new one if the island needed it. Azula and Alise had promised each other that if he was truly lost in the Lyria Kingdom, she could visit Trevan and renegotiate a deal that would serve Sura Island. He had left her the crossbow blueprints, and his master knew how to forge the unbreakable sword. She could use them as leverage as a last resort.
Azula hoped they would not have to resort to that, and that Raithion would come through for him and his people. Still, facing a Basileus was no small matter. Dio was no small tiger. He held the power to crush his clan and his life. So, even with his brave showing earlier, he was still uneasy.
His heart raced wildly against his ribs from having Basileus Dio point a sword at him. His audacity had needed an extra layer of nerve to keep a straight, calm face as he threatened the Kingdom of Lyria’s uncontested ruler.
Hiding a shiver, he returned his gaze to Raithion, who raised his right hand and silenced the court with one glance. It was clear that his man could be intimidating. Raithion glared at the few persistent court ministers who still wanted to put across a point.
“The forged silver coin case was complicated,” Raithion said, his voice full of authority. “There were many variables that were not explored. It should not have been closed prematurely.”
“Then,” Dio said, “present your concerns, and the imperial court will retry the case.”
Raithion glanced at Dio for a moment, then paced to a table on the right side of the hall and lifted a small wooden box.
“Shall we start with the forged silver coins?” Raithion asked. “The exchange bureau collected thousands of forged silver coins during the case and stored them in the Inspector General’s office. They should still be stored there as evidence, but the current Inspector General insists the forged silver coins were all destroyed.”
Azula’s brows rose in surprise. A few murmurs rippled among the courtiers as Raithion started pacing the length of the dais.
“Thankfully, the palace military office planned. Duke Maenaer had collected samples from the exchange bureau to present to Basileus Dio’s office,” Raithion said, opening the wooden box and lifting one of the silver coins inside. “And so, we still have solid samples of the forged silver coins. Isn’t that a relief?”
Azula hid a smile at Raithion’s pointed question as he studied the coin in his right hand.
“This little coin caused economic damage to thousands of people in this city,” Raithion said. “The case caused an uproar and riled up the people’s ire, leading to an unprecedented massacre of Sura Clan members. There can be no mistakes made. And so, I’ll call on the original assayer from the Inspector General’s office.”
“How are we to know the silver coins you hold are the original samples?” Gesi Ajai asked. “They could be coins that were collected from previous incidents that do not match the original forged silver coin case.”
“These forged silver coins were kept by me in my private vault,” Dio said. “There are three more chests. I’ll have the imperial guard bring them to court shortly. They are still in the exchange bureau chests they were stored in. Do you doubt my credibility?”
Gesi kept quiet, but the Prime Minister stood and gave a respectful nod to Dio.
“We trust Your Majesty’s personal care on this matter,” the Prime Minister said.
“Prime Minister Armad Valerius,” Dio said. “Your support is duly noted. The kingdom is lucky to have you as a prime minister. Truly.”
Armad nodded and sat when Dio waved his hand, urging him to settle down.
Raithion met Gesi Ajai’s gaze. “Are you still in doubt?”
“No,” Gesi said, his tone unwilling.
“That’s a relief,” Raithion said. “As I was saying, the first piece of evidence is this forged silver coin. I will now call the first witness, Master Sinsa, who worked in the counterfeit inspectorate under Inspector General Rinde, along with his apprentice, Master Lachan. They were the first to name the Sura Clan. Master Sinsa should explain why he did so.”
Raithion placed the coin he held in the box and handed it to a royal scribe who worked for Basileus Dio’s office.
The court doors opened, and Lieutenant Vadisi let in old man Sinsa, who walked slowly, supporting himself with a cane. Murmurs erupted in the court as Sinsa and Lachan made slow progress to the front of the hall.
One of Raithion’s lieutenants brought a chair and placed it facing the Basileus. Lachan led Sinsa to the chair and stood next to him.
“Master Sinsa, Master Lachan,” Raithion said. “Did you work for the Inspector General’s office five years ago?”
“Yes, Your Highness,” they both answered.
Then, Raithion stopped before Sinsa.
“Did you write an assaying report for the forged silver coins that spread through the capital?” Raithion asked.
“I did,” Sinsa said, his raspy voice trembling with age and regret. “I submitted the report to Inspector General Rinde. We had named the Sura Clan simply because the iron core matched the island’s unique burnt ore. It was never intended as an accusation, merely a metallurgical fact. But someone weaponized my findings to frame the Sura. Three days after I submitted it, assassins broke into the workshop to destroy the report and silence us. My apprentice and I barely escaped with our lives.”
A tight, heavy knot in Azula’s chest finally loosened. For years, he had harbored a bitter resentment toward the assayers who had unwittingly damned his clan. Now, hearing the old man’s truth, Azula realized Sinsa harbored no malice. His scientific report had been twisted by the real architects of the slaughter. The Sura Clan had suffered an unspeakable tragedy, but they were not the only victims of this deadly, orchestrated plot.
“Do you remember what the assassins looked like?” Raithion asked.
“I do,” Lachan said, reaching into his pocket. He produced a worn gray cloth. “I tore this from one of them as they escaped.”
Raithion took the old, torn fabric, holding it up for the court to see before he handed it to the imperial scribe in charge.
“Do you have the assaying report you made about the forged silver coins?” Raithion asked.
“I have the report, but it may be deemed forged,” Sinsa said. “So, I asked Lieutenant Vadisi to set up a table for me and my apprentice to create a demonstration. I will show the court the differences.”
Raithion looked up as a side door opened and three burly men walked in. Two hauled a sizable table that could be used to hold the instruments; the third man carried in a leather bag.
Lachan moved to the table once it was arranged before Sinsa’s chair. Lachan took out two round, dense blocks of charcoal, and a long, tapered brass tube called a mouth blowpipe. Vadisi brought in a lighted lamp with high-temperature oil and a burning flame. Lachan then reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a single silver coin denarius.
Lachan got to work right away, placing the silver coin in a dent in the middle of one of the round, dense charcoal blocks. Using the long, tapered brass tube, Lachan blew a continuous stream of air through the lamp’s flame, redirecting the flame and concentrating it into a hyper-focused blue jet flame that he aimed directly at the silver coin. He used a circular breathing method, inhaling through his nose while squeezing air out of his cheeks to maintain a steady flame for minutes at a time.
Azula was impressed with Lachan’s skill. Lachan understood how to melt silver into a liquid. In minutes, he melted the silver coin, and the liquid was held in the round dent in the middle of the dense charcoal block. Lachan tossed a pinch of crushed glass from his bag onto the melting coin, and the silver turned into a glassy layer, preventing the silver from absorbing oxygen and bubbling. The silver coin glowed a dull red, then turned to a bright cherry red before finally transforming into a shimmering, molten liquid mirror.
Azula nodded in approval.
Sinsa stood and spoke up. “This is the result of melting a silver coin denarius used every day for commerce. As you can see, the coin melts in full and leaves a liquefied mirror substance in the block. This is an authentic silver coin.”
Dio stood and walked down from his throne; he came to see the liquified coin and nodded in understanding.
“What’s the difference with the forged silver coin?” Dio asked.
Lachan moved the first dense charcoal block to the side. He placed the second block on the table and took the coin Raithion handed him from the box of forged silver coins. Lachan repeated the process of melting, and soon a strange phenomenon started.
The coin turned bright cherry red as it heated. Soon, the silver started sweating on the surface of the coin. The liquid silver beaded and trickled down, pooling at the bottom of the charcoal block in a shimmering puddle. Lachan was left with two parts of the forged silver: the silver liquid and a blackened, crusty, solid lump of iron that had not melted. He placed his mouth blowpipe down and pulled out metal tongs from his bag. He used them to lift out the lump of iron.
Sinsa pointed to the lump.
“This is the iron the forger used at the core of the forged silver coin,” Sinsa said. “The forger used a bit of silver to coat the iron to mimic the true silver coin denarii and fool the eye. In time, the silver plating would fade away with daily use and leave only the iron. At the time of assaying, I said the core iron ore used had the traits of the burnt ore mined on Sura Island. However,” Sinsa looked at Azula, “Your Highness, Prince Azula, may I borrow something from you?”
“What would Master Sinsa like to borrow?” Azula asked.
“The silver button from your guard’s uniform,” Sinsa said. “I happened to see one earlier and noticed it was plated livery iron.”
Azula turned to Wolfe, who reached for a button on the left wrist of his coat. He twisted it off and handed it to the scribe who approached him.
Sinsa received the button from the scribe and took a careful look at it, pulling out a small magnifying glass from his pocket. After a moment, he nodded and faced Raithion and Dio.
“This button is silver-coated iron. It should be similar to the forged silver coins,” Sinsa said. “I will now demonstrate the difference in skill. The Sura are masters in metallurgy. We have all seen the quality of their weapons and products. If they dared to make a coin, it would be no less skillful.”
“You mean the skill techniques will stay true to the master forger,” Raithion said.
“Yes,” Sinsa said. He glanced at Lachan. “Find the magnet.”
Lachan reached into the bag on the table and pulled out a round, black block the size of his palm.
“This is a magnet,” Sinsa said. “Now, I need one of the intact forged silver coins.”
A scribe retrieved one from the box Raithion had been holding earlier. He brought it to the table, and Azula sat forward to see how Sinsa would prove the coins were not made by the Sura.
Sinsa held up the button and the forged silver coin.
“The forged silver coin already shows signs of peeling on the edges and a hint of dark iron under the top silver layer,” Sinsa said. “This button has no bleeding of the dark iron and no peeling signs. And now, we shall use a magnet to show the amount of silver used.”
Sinsa placed the button and coin on the table. He took the magnet from Lachan and held it over the button and the coin. It took less than a minute for the forged silver coin to attach to the magnet. The button shifted slightly on the table, but it did not attach itself to the magnet.
“The forged coin has a small amount of silver coating the iron. This is why it is easily attracted to the magnet. The button has a thick, heavy layer of silver which dampens the iron’s magnetic pull. This demonstrates the difference in skill. Whoever made the forged coin has little understanding of plating and perhaps had little care about the method, as long as it achieved the means. Lachan will hand you my report on the differences.”
Lachan reached into the bag on the table and pulled out a thick green book the size of a small novel. It was written with care and included diagrams. He handed it to Raithion with deep respect.
“Thank you, Master Sinsa and Master Lachan,” Raithion said, taking the report and handing it to Dio.
Dio took the report and returned to sit on the throne, leafing through it. The scribes took over the clean-up of Lachan’s demonstration, spending a few minutes carrying away the dense charcoal blocks with their melted silver. Soon, the table was gone, and Sinsa sat in his chair with Lachan standing next to him.
Raithion faced the court just as Gesi Ajai stood.
“Is it true that the iron ore in the core of the forged coin is the burnt ore from the Sura mine?” Gesi Ajai asked.
Sinsa sighed. “Yes, the source ore used in the core has levels of iron and titanium. It is called burnt ore and is mined on Sura Island.”
“Then it is natural to come to the conclusion that the Sura forged the coins,” Gesi Ajai said. “After all, they know how to coat iron with silver, as your demonstration with their button has proven. Skill is relative.”
“Skill might be relative, but the Sura’s metallurgy skills are not so easily dismissed,” Sinsa said. “An iron button silver-coated by the Sura for everyday use is enough to show you how great their workmanship is compared to the forged silver coin. The silver coins were created with inferior plating techniques.”
“They could do that on purpose to throw off an investigation,” one of Gesi Ajai’s supporters said.
Azula scoffed at the ridiculousness of the moment. These people would rather see them arrested than imagine someone else had ruined people’s lives, or even believe that the Sura were innocent victims of a deadly plot.
****
“They could pretend not to know how to do it right to pretend they did not make it.”
Raithion noted that the second comment came from Magistrate Firo Briale, one of the Dowager Basilina’s close friends. He lifted his hand to calm the murmuring court before an argument began.
“Master Sinsa’s work was to establish how the forged silver coins were created. We’ve also established what the forged silver coins were made of,” Raithion said. “Master Sinsa’s job is done, and his report and demonstration have been recorded by the court scribes.”
Raithion’s patience thinned, a cold, protective ire settling deep in his chest. As Commandery Prince, he tolerated no insubordination, especially not when it threatened the fragile truth he was deliberately uncovering. He turned his heavy, unyielding gaze on Gesi Ajai, letting the sheer weight of his absolute authority bear down on the contentious minister.
“Wait for the next witness before you ask questions,” Raithion commanded. His voice dropped to a soft, lethal register that easily cut through the cavernous hall.
Gesi withered under the oppressive stare. His indignant glare faltered, and he sank back into his wooden seat with a quiet huff.
Raithion turned to Master Sinsa.
“Please, have a seat on the chairs behind the Minister of Justice,” Raithion said, urging Vadisi to show Sinsa and Lachan their seats.
A lieutenant took away the chair Sinsa had used, and Raithion faced Azula.
****
Azula lifted a brow as Raithion watched him for a long moment, before Raithion cleared his throat and turned to the court.
“The burnt ore used in the forged silver coins was mined on Sura Island,” Raithion said, making Azula frown. “At this point, I would like to submit a report to the imperial court. I would also ask Prince Azula to answer a few questions.”
Azula stared at Raithion.
The Commandery Prince stood with immovable authority at the dais where they had kept the weapons earlier, the exact spot where Dio had pointed a sword at Azula’s chest. Raithion held the court’s attention in an iron grip, radiating a ruthless, commanding efficiency as he sought the truth.
Azula sighed, a knot tightening in his stomach, and inclined his head. “I will answer from here,” he said.
“That is acceptable,” Raithion said, his tone heavy with authority. “Is it true that burnt ore is mined on Sura Island?”
“It is,” Azula said.
“How did you transport it to the Lyria Kingdom?” Raithion asked.
Azula sat up straighter, his hands curled into tight fists as he faced the court. “We shipped the ore from Sura Island to Lyria’s shores. Then we used specialized cargo carriages to transport it to the capital. The cargo carriages were manned by two drivers. They were locked at port and opened with a specialized key once they reached the Doriel Manor in Genad City. We kept logs of each delivery, because the imperial mint and the inspectorate needed a record of all our current ore stock.”
Raithion nodded, his imposing posture never faltering as he turned to Vadisi, who waited by the minister of justice’s table.
Vadisi picked up a thick book covered in cracked black leather from the table and brought it to Raithion. Raithion opened the heavy logbook, the scent of old paper wafting outward, before he carried it to Azula.
Azula tried to meet Raithion’s gaze, but the man was focused on laying out the facts. Azula took the book. A soft gasp escaped him when he opened it and found his father’s signature on the inside of the cover. He traced the familiar ink with reverent, trembling fingers, fighting back a sudden burn of tears at the sight of his father’s name in his own hand. A heavy wave of grief and pride washed over him.
“Is this the log you are referring to?” Raithion asked.
Azula swallowed around the tight lump in his throat and nodded. “Yes, this is the log my family submitted to the inspectorate and the imperial mint officers when they came around for inspections.”
Raithion nodded. “Can you open it to the last page?”
Azula did as asked, finding a list of expected delivery dates. They were all set weeks before his father’s death, five years ago.
“What do you see?” Raithion asked.
Azula traced the entries on the fragile paper. There were six expected deliveries. The first two were written in by Yemin, who had reported the loss of two carriages and four drivers in the notes area. The last four deliveries were written by Alise and Marius. Both of them noted the loss of four carriages and eight drivers. The last expected delivery was the one Azula was to bring to Genad City in the modified carriage he had built. It was marked with a star by Marius, but there were no notes.
Azula took a deep, shuddering breath.
“The last page lists expected deliveries of the burnt ore from the Endless Port to Genad City. There are six carriages listed,” Azula said, his voice heavy with unshed tears. “Six carriages were then listed as lost or stolen, along with the deaths of twelve carriage drivers.”
“Thank you,” Raithion said, reaching out for the logbook. Azula held on to it for a moment longer before he closed it and reluctantly handed it back.
Raithion gave it to the imperial scribe, who took it and opened the last page. He walked up to Dio’s throne to show both Dio and Soriel the entry.
“The twelve drivers,” Soriel said. “What happened to them?”
Azula swallowed hard. “They were murdered. The patrol officers found them dead on the roadside. The carriages disappeared.”
“Did you report the theft?” Dio asked.
Azula looked at Raithion, who was still facing the court.
“Yes, I did,” Azula said. “I made a report at the Endless Port’s magistrate’s office, where I also asked for protection, as we needed to transport a shipment of burnt ore to the capital.”
“Do you have the report?” Gesi Ajai asked. “How can it be proven after five years?”
“Why do I need a report when the general who escorted me and the shipment to the capital stands in this court?” Azula asked. “Isn’t that right, Draeya General?”
Raithion finally glanced at him once, then turned a cool gaze on Gesi Ajai.
“The Endless Port Magistrate recorded the report and the request for security support,” Raithion said, turning to Vadisi, who stood up holding the reports and the request for everyone to see. “I was Draeya General at the time, and my legion officers successfully transported Prince Azula to the capital. During the journey, we apprehended and stopped a robbery attempt by the mercenaries terrorizing the Sura Clan carriages.”
“Your testimony is biased,” Firo Briale said. “You have had contact and received help from the Sura Clan. How can it be trusted?”
“You do not need to listen to my testimony,” Raithion stated sharply, as Vadisi handed the reports from the Endless Port magistrate to the court scribe.
“I have a witness,” Raithion said.
The court doors opened, and Haedor led in Huga Nedin, who walked with his hands clasped before him, his eye patch neat over his left eye. His gray hair was combed back from his face. He did not look around the court as Haedor gripped his elbow and brought him to stand before Raithion.
“What is your name?” Dio asked from the throne.
Raithion stepped aside so that Huga Nedin could see Dio.
“My name is Huga Nedin, a man from Witia State,” Huga said. “Your Majesty.”
“What is your testimony?” Dio demanded, his tone clipped.
Azula watched Basileus Dio closely. The acute tension in the room spiked as Dio’s piercing stare darted momentarily toward Gesi Ajai and Dowager Basilinna Olneth. He frowned, wondering why Dio was so interested in those two.
Huga glanced at Azula with a wary look, took a deep breath, and faced the throne. “I was one of the two men who led the mercenary team that hijacked the Sura Clan carriages.”
“One of the two. Who is the other?” Dio pressed without missing a beat, driving the pace.
“His name was Hulan,” Huga answered. “He was from my clan in Witia. He died soon after returning to the capital. There was another named Levi, who died during the fight with the Draeya General’s legion as he protected a Sura carriage on the road from the port to Genad City.”
“Is it true you murdered twelve Sura Clan drivers?” Dio asked. The room went dead silent.
“Yes,” Huga confessed, his tone heavy. “We had to stop the carriages to hijack them. The process wasn’t easy, and the drivers could not be saved. I wasn’t alone in this.”
“Of course,” Dio replied, his voice laced with veiled anger. “May the court note the deaths of twelve Sura Clan drivers at the hands of mercenaries led by Huga Nedin, Levi, and Hulan.”
The court scribes scrambled to record the order.
Dio stood and stepped down from the throne, his boots echoing sharply against the marble. He walked closer to Huga, invading the mercenary’s space.
Azula felt the suffocating pressure in the air; Dio was not an easy man to face.
“Where did you take the stolen carriages? What did you do with the burnt ore?” Dio demanded.
Huga Nedin shivered under the suffocating scrutiny. He shuffled his feet and dropped his gaze to the floor.
“We took the ore to a blacksmith in a hidden compound on the border of Storait province and Naga state. Some of it we kept for our own use, and to sell to workshops in Witia. The rest we left with the blacksmith. As for the carriages,” Huga glanced at Azula with a regretful expression, “we left them in a yard behind the busiest Sura Clan warehouse on the business street in Genad City. The blacksmith made sure there were coin molds in the carriages.”
Horrified gasps filled the court at Huga’s confession. The Sura were being exonerated, the framing laid bare. Yet Azula noticed Gesi Ajai remained rigidly quiet, a muscle ticking in his jaw, while Olneth’s face paled.
“Who hired you to hijack the carriages, or was this your own plan?” Dio pressed relentlessly, sensing the kill. “You were mercenaries hired to do a job. Who paid for it?”
Huga Nedin sighed. “I never met him. All I know is that he was called Sazama. We obeyed his orders, and the money would be sent to us through a courier.”
Dio studied Huga Nedin for a tense minute before he turned and strode back to his throne. He sat and motioned for an imperial guard.
“Take charge of the living witness,” Dio ordered. “We need a written confession from you, Huga Nedin. The Ministry of Justice will decide your fate.”
Huga nodded, gave Azula one last glance, and then followed the imperial scribe and the guards.
“Commandery Prince, do you have more witnesses?” Dio asked.
Raithion walked to the table where his father and the minister of justice sat. He picked up the two letters of confession he had given to Azula when they were in Draeya County.
“I have a confession from Hulan, a mercenary who was planted at the Endless Port magistrate’s office. He used bribes to keep the old magistrate from taking the theft reports by the Sura Clan seriously. He was also involved in the hijacking of the Sura carriages. Hulan died when we brought him to the capital, after a skirmish with his guards.”
“He is dead and cannot defend himself,” Gesi Ajai pointed out. “How can his confession be accepted at court?”
“The confession is signed with his thumbprint. He has also named Sazama as the man who hired the mercenaries hijacking the Sura Clan carriages,” Raithion said with unwavering resolve. “This confession was obtained by Lord General Haedor and Prince Kailu. I will submit it to the court for judgment.”
Raithion handed it to the imperial scribe.
“This is enough proof to exonerate the Sura Clan,” Raithion said. “It at least proves that the ore used to forge the silver coins was stolen from them.”
“The evidence is five years old,” Dowager Basilinna Olneth spoke up for the first time. “The witnesses could be paid.”
“I support the Dowager Basilinna,” Firo Briale said. “Evidence presented after five years cannot be proven. We also cannot trust testimonies given after five years. How can we verify they are accurate?”
Raithion stood before the court and listened as Gesi Ajai, Firo Briale, Olneth, and their supporters attempted to tear holes in every piece of evidence he had presented. Then, finally, Prime Minister Armad Valerius stood.
“Five years is a long time, but facts cannot be changed easily,” Armad said. “It is true, and it can be proven, that twelve Sura drivers are dead. Murdered on the road during six robberies.”
Azula’s brow rose at the acknowledgment of the dead.
“Second,” Armad continued, “the mercenary Huga Nedin has confessed to stealing the burnt ore and giving it to a blacksmith. This is enough to cast doubt on the theory that the Sura forged the coins. They would not need to steal from themselves and murder their own drivers to forge silver coins using their own ore.”
“I happen to agree with Prime Minister Valerius,” Dio said. “The Sura would not need to steal the burnt ore and murder twelve drivers to forge coins with their own ore.”
“It could be a conspiracy,” Gesi countered.
“You are right,” Dio said. “One fully planned by an unknown man named Sazama. This court needs to meet him so that we can get to the bottom of this conspiracy. I believe there is enough proof of doubt to overturn the verdict that the Sura Clan forged the silver coins.”
“This cannot be deemed enough to reopen a closed case,” Firo Briale said. “What—”
“What if there was more?” Kailu finally spoke. “Would you agree to reopen the case?”
“Five years is too long to wait to overturn a case,” Olneth said. “The evidence you have provided might have been tampered with; witness testimonies are unreliable after all this time. The court should not overturn a five-year-old imperial verdict on cold claims.”
“What more can there be?” Gesi Ajai asked with a scoff. “Aren’t you just a dog working for the Maenaer family? You’re reaching for nothing.”
“Where we’re reaching, you will have to see,” Kailu said, looking at Olneth with no sense of fear. “I have a task to complete.” He turned to Dio. “Your Majesty, allow me to present my findings.”
“Go ahead, Prince Kailu,” Dio said.
Raithion’s intense gaze lingered on Azula for a moment before he moved to sit next to his father at the minister of justice’s table.
Kailu moved to stand at the dais. “This court has been caught in a storm this last month, seeking to restore Magistrate Pamplona’s good name. There were supporters for this petition, and those who asked for more evidence of Pamplona’s innocence. I would like to present my findings, as I was tasked by His Majesty to find concrete proof.”
Kailu turned and smiled coldly at Gesi Ajai, before lifting his hand to alert the guards at the doors.
“I would like to invite an important witness,” Kailu said.
A moment later, the doors opened, and a beautiful young woman walked in. She was dressed in a simple yellow dress that reached her ankles, where she wore sturdy black boots. Her brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she wore a heavy brown overcoat over her dress.
She walked with determination and purpose, coming to a stop right next to Kailu. She gave him a nervous look before she placed her right hand over her chest and faced Dio and Soriel.
“Nana Pamplona greets the Basileus and the Basilinna of the Lyria Kingdom,” she said.
“Welcome to the imperial court,” Dio said.
Nana nodded and dropped her hands to her sides. She took a deep breath and waited for Kailu.
“Nana Pamplona is Magistrate Pamplona’s surviving daughter. She is the only witness I would like to present to this court,” Kailu said, turning to her. “Go ahead. Tell the court everything you wanted to say.”
Nana reached into her overcoat’s pocket and pulled out a five-by-eight bound book, the pages looking well-used and softened by time. She faced Dio. “I would like to submit to the imperial court my father’s case notes and observations. He collected them during the investigation of the forged silver coin case. He never got a chance to submit them to the court.”
A scribe approached her and took the book, carrying it to Dio.
“Magistrate Pamplona notes in his findings that the stolen carriages were found behind the Sura clan’s busiest warehouse. They were placed separately from where the Sura parked their cargo carriages, which was in a warehouse inside the Doriel Manor. The cargo carriages had broken locks on the doors. The metal on the locks was cut and sheared with tools,” Nana said.
“As legitimate owners of the cargo carriages, the Sura Clan members would not need to break their carriage locks. They would have keys to open the carriages, you see,” Nana said. “So, the proof of their innocence lies in the forced entry. This forced entry validated Marius Doriel’s claim that the carriages had been hijacked and the ore stolen.”
Nana took a deep breath, and her fingers clenched into tight fists.
“On the night Chief Marius Doriel of the Sura Clan was arrested, my father went to submit this evidence to the magistrate holding Chief Marius and his people,” Nana said. “However, he was shot with a poisoned arrow on the way and did not reach his destination. My father did not survive the poison on the arrow. He gave me his notes on his deathbed and asked me to keep them safe. His death did not stop villains from attacking my family’s home. My mother died, and my little brother did too. I am the only surviving member of my family.”
“Explain the villains better,” Kailu coaxed.
Nana scowled at him for a moment, but she looked to Dio.
“I mean, on the night of my father’s funeral, assassins wearing gray clothes attacked our home. They rummaged through my father’s office, and when they saw us in the front hall, they tried to murder us. They fatally injured my mother and younger brother. I was saved by our neighbor,” Nana said, her voice shaking.
Shocked murmurs filled the room. Azula looked at Gesi Ajai, who had been protesting throughout the trial. He sat rigidly quiet, his head lowered, refusing to look at Nana Pamplona.
“I managed to hold on to the poisoned arrow that struck my father, and a scrap of gray fabric from the assassins who invaded our home,” Nana continued. She pulled an arrow from the deep pocket in her coat sleeve. It was wrapped in gray cloth. She handed it to the scribe, who carried it to Dio.
Azula’s brow rose when he noted Basileus Dio’s sharp look of surprise as Basileus Dio examined the arrow. Something about the weapon, Azula realized with a flare of vindicated hope, was about to sweep the tide permanently into his clan’s favor.
****
Dio unwrapped the arrow, and Soriel took the stiff cloth from him, studying it for a moment. Dio’s gaze was on the cold arrowhead and the white feathers on the tail end of the arrow. Dio frowned.
“Theod,” Dio said, making his guard move closer. “This. Why does it look familiar?”
Theod took the arrow when Dio handed it to him. “This belongs in the Adertha Imperial private arsenal,” Theod said after a moment. “They were used by the late Basileus’s personal guard. When he died, the workshop stopped making them like this, and changed the tail-end feathers to crimson to match your reign. These were stored in the arsenal as relics.”
A vicious thrill spiked through Dio’s veins as he locked eyes with Olneth. His heart hammered a relentless rhythm against his ribs. Finally, after years of chasing whispers, he held the physical, irrefutable proof of his mother’s treason. She had meddled in state affairs; she had sanctioned the assassination of more than one court official. The net was snapping violently shut, cornering both the Dowager Basilinna and Gesi Ajai on the courtroom floor. With the Sura Clan’s exoneration all but secured, Dio could practically taste the blood in the water. He was going to drag them all into the light.
“Dio,” Soriel said, her voice drawing his attention. She still held the cloth from Nana Pamplona. “There is something I brought from my fight with the gray assassins near the Maenaer residence.”
Dio shifted his gaze to his wife. “What is it?”
“A gray assassin wearing clothes made from this same fabric,” she said with a small smile.
Dio exhaled and looked at Nana Pamplona.
“You said your father examined the stolen Sura carriages,” Dio said. “The imperial court never received them as evidence. Do you know where they are?”
Kailu stepped forward, protecting Nana behind him. “Your Majesty, this prince took the liberty of finding the carriages from the hiding place where Magistrate Pamplona had kept them. I had legion officers dismantle them to bring them into this court. Please forgive the noise the process will cause.”
Dio nodded and waved his hand, giving Kailu permission to bring in the carriages.
****
Azula glanced at Wolfe and Sennin in surprise as a horde of legion officers proceeded to open the heavy double doors of the courtroom. The aisle was wide enough to fit two carriages, so, to everyone’s surprise, the legion officers rolled in the carriages without the harnesses for the horses.
They wheeled them in on large platforms and brought them to a stop at the front of the court, facing three of the carriage doors toward Dio, while the rest faced the courtiers.
Azula stood, walking slowly to the nearest cargo carriage. It had been a long time since he had seen them, and despite the dust caking the exterior, a sudden wave of nostalgia rushed through him at the sight of the familiar wood and iron. He touched the rough siding slowly and moved to the back, where the doors were still closed.
Here was the foolproof evidence that would finally exonerate the Sura Clan. The intricate lock they used was completely broken. The metal had been cut with a saw or blowtorch; the steel looked melted, and the seams were violently pried open with a crowbar. There was no mistaking that the carriages had been ripped open to get to the inside.
A dizzying surge of elation hit Azula’s chest, followed by a profound, breathless wave of relief. His clan’s innocence was undeniable now, staring the imperial court in the face. But the sweet taste of victory quickly turned to ash.
As he stared at the mangled lock, a crushing sadness weighed on his heart. Twelve of his people had been brutally slaughtered on the road for this. Their blood had been spilled merely to orchestrate a theft and create a political conspiracy, meaning their violent deaths were so utterly, tragically unnecessary. Not to mention his father, Yemen, Wolfe’s son, and all the others who had died.
Azula shook his head, giving the broken doors one final look before he looked to Raithion, and then to Dio, who was approaching the same carriage. He then turned and returned to his seat, waiting for the next part of this ridiculous, heartbreaking show.
****
Dio had no words to express the remorse he felt as he imagined the six carriages represented the souls who had been murdered to gain access. Twelve Sura Clan souls who had died before the purge. He could not imagine the true number of the dead after the purge started.
He thought of the death of Chief Marius Doriel, and the boy who had been lynched outside an exchange bureau. He touched the cold, ravaged iron door and shook his head.
It was time to close the net.
“The court receives and records the evidence found on these carriages,” Dio said, motioning for the imperial guards to take custody of the vehicles. “Prince Kailu, thank you for your findings. There is one more thing we need to manage before we make a ruling on the Sura case. Please have a seat.”
Kailu gave him a nod. Then, with careful consideration, he guided Nana to sit where Master Sinsa and Lachan sat. Kailu then sat next to Raithion, and they all waited while the carriages were taken into custody by the Imperial Guard and wheeled out of the court through a different door.
Dio stood at the dais and clasped his hands behind his back, staring at Gesi Ajai for a minute before he turned to his mother.
“This court has faced many crises,” Dio said. “Some minor, others catastrophic, but today, we’re facing a pivotal moment in this kingdom. Pivotal because the evidence provided so far is enough to tell me that an unknown individual has worked hard to turn the Sura Clan into a villain. Which means innocents were hurt, and we are all complicit in the damage it has caused. Before the court considers the repercussions, I invite Basilinna Soriel to present her important findings.”
The court murmured in surprise as Soriel stood, and Dio moved to sit on the throne. Soriel paid no attention to the murmurs.
“Earlier today, I went out to support Lord General Haedor as he escorted the Sura Clan carriages through the capital to the Maenaer residence. General Haedor was attacked by assassins dressed in gray robes. I offered support with my guard. We brought back one of the assassins who tried to assassinate me,” Soriel said, her tone harsh as she spoke.
Her revelation shocked the room; someone had dared try to assassinate the basilinna.
“I stand here now because the arrow Lady Nana Pamplona has presented is similar to the arrows we collected after the gray assassins attacked the Sura carriages. The cloth she says belongs to the assassins also matches the clothes today’s assassins wore.”
As she spoke, Vanya and Meira came from the back of the throne. They led two men who were guiding a rolling table to the dais. The assassin in gray was dead, but he was still in his bloodstained robes, and a pile of the arrows Soriel had collected was placed on the table at the assassin’s feet.
“So, you tell me. Is it a coincidence that on the day the Sura Prince was to arrive in this court, these assassins attacked the Sura carriages and even tried to kill me for helping?” Soriel asked the court. She fell quiet and walked back to the throne, leaving the room to ponder her words for a tense moment.
Dio held her hand as she sat, squeezing her fingers tight. A fierce, electric thrill surged through his veins, making his pulse race. Fate had not only protected his wife, but it had finally handed him the blade he needed to sever the rot in his kingdom.
The puzzle pieces had snapped together. The Sura were blameless, the conspiracy was laid bare, and the untouchable masterminds were almost trapped. The crack he had been hoping for had appeared.
He nodded when she squeezed his hand back. Then, Dio stood. He faced his courtiers, his heart pounding a relentless war drum against his ribs. It was time to blow a fatal hole in this court. He locked his gaze onto Gesi Ajai, watching the minister’s smug composure begin to fracture, before his eyes slid to his mother.
“Imperial Guard Theod,” Dio commanded, his voice cutting through the heavy silence like a whip. “Where are these arrows from?”
Theod stepped forward. He didn’t waver. When he spoke, his booming voice echoed off the vaulted ceilings. “The arrows used by these assassins belong in the Adertha Imperial private arsenal, Your Majesty. They were used exclusively by the late Basileus’s personal guard. When he died, the workshop ceased making this specific design, changing the tail-end feathers to crimson to mark your new reign. These gray-feathered arrows were stored in the deepest vaults of the arsenal as relics.”
The silence in the room was absolute, suffocating. Every eye darted to the lethal, undeniable proof lying on the table.
Dio stepped down from the dais, closing the distance. His eyes burned into the Dowager Basilinna. He had her. The acute, undeniable thrill of the kill roared in his ears.
“Only one person holds the key to that vault,” Dio said, his voice dropping to a lethal, carrying pitch that left absolutely no room for debate. “Who has access, Theod?”
Theod didn’t flinch. “The Dowager Basilinna, Olneth.”
The name dropped like an executioner’s axe.
For a split second, the court froze in suspended shock. Then, it descended into absolute chaos.
Olneth’s face drained of color as Gesi Ajai’s supporters erupted, desperately trying to scream over the damning revelation, while Prime Minister Armad bellowed his righteous outrage at the ultimate betrayal.
****
Azula clutched the carved wooden arms of his chair as he watched Dio stare down the Dowager Basilinna, his heart pounding as he wondered what would happen next.
Then, amid the uproar, Raithion stood when Theod finished saying the Dowager Basilinna’s name. The ministers were exchanging heated words, in full witch-hunt mode. The Prime Minister’s faction wanted to confine the Dowager Basilinna and begin an investigation, while Gesi Ajai’s people called it a witch hunt.
Raithion’s and Dio’s gazes met, and Azula’s eyes widened as he watched Raithion walk to the dais with determined steps.
Raithion brought his right hand to his chest and bowed his head in respect.
“Your Majesty,” Raithion said, his voice ringing above the arguments, silencing the room. “I move to exonerate the Sura Clan from the accusation of the forged silver case. I move that the case of the forged silver coins be reexamined, and all efforts be made to find the villain named Sazama. I move,” Raithion said, glancing at Olneth for a moment, “that the gray assassins mentioned by Her Majesty Basilinna Soriel be investigated for the sake of the royal house, and to bring answers to the court about the Imperial arsenal regarding the stolen arrows.”
Azula sat up, his fingers digging into the polished wood as his heart pounded in excitement. His clan was so close…so close…
The Prime Minister stood fast, mirroring Raithion’s gesture. “I second the Draeya Commandery Prince’s motion.”
Silence filled the court, so absolute, a pin drop could be heard.
“The motion is granted,” Dio said.
Azula closed his eyes. Hot tears pricked his lashes, thick and fast, spilling over his cheeks before he could stop them. Granted. The single word echoed in his mind, shattering years of heavy disgrace. How strange fate was, how one man sitting on a gilded throne could restore the soul of a whole clan with a mere handful of words.
Azula had prayed, bled, and cried for this moment for years. Now that it was finally here, the sheer magnitude of it crushed the air from his lungs; he could barely draw a breath through the agonizing tightness in his throat.
He opened his eyes when Sennin’s warm, calloused hand clamped onto his left wrist, and Wolfe did the same to his right. Both men were trembling with barely contained emotion, and Azula offered a ragged, tear-streaked nod to show that he understood. They were finally free.
Dio moved to sit on his throne, his tone changing as he faced his court.
“Prince Azula of the Sura Clan, rise,” Dio said.
Azula stood, followed by Wolfe and Sennin. His guard rose along with them, and Azula held his ground.
“Your Highness and your kin have suffered under the weight of false accusations,” Dio said. “Today, this court has received sufficient evidence that clears your clan’s name of wrongdoing. In exonerating the Sura Clan of these false charges, this Imperial court seeks to find the true culprit of the forged silver coin case. Prince Azula Doriel of the Sura Clan, today the truth clears your clan’s name. May the scribes proclaim it across the land.”
Dio faced Azula’s tear-stained face then. “We wash away the stain of guilt from your clan. Your ancestors may rest in peace, for the honor of your clan is untarnished. Let no person speak ill of the Sura Clan, or answer to the Imperial Court and myself in person.”
Azula bit his bottom lip hard enough to taste copper as profound relief slammed into him. Sennin, Wolfe, and his guards let out breathless cries of victory, jumping with joy and pulling one another, and him, into fierce hugs.
Azula could only swallow back the thick knot of tears, knowing he still needed to respond to Basileus Dio’s decree.
He brought his right hand to his chest and lowered his head a small fraction to acknowledge Dio’s declaration.
“The Sura Clan thanks Your Majesty for seeing the truth and restoring our clan’s honor,” Azula said.
“Prince Azula, your clan’s standing is restored,” Dio said, his formal cadence slipping just enough to reveal the desperate man beneath the crown. He leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes locking onto Azula’s with quiet, urgent entreaty. “The Imperial Court shall formally record your grievances and your devastating losses. But…please. I ask that you do not turn your back on this city just yet. The Imperial Court invites you to stay in the Doriel Manor. Give us the time to reach a satisfactory agreement based on the proposal you presented earlier. Stay, so that we might make this right.”
Azula started to protest, but Raithion shifted, drawing his attention. Azula met his gaze, his eyes widening when Raithion gave him a sharp, warning look.
“I will make sure His Highness, Prince Azula, is comfortable at the Doriel Manor,” Raithion announced to the court.
Azula’s brow lifted. Because his clan was already exonerated and they needed the court to announce it widely, plus the court looked occupied with a much larger problem regarding Olneth, Azula held his tongue.
He smiled instead, startling both Dio and Raithion.
“I’ll be happy to stay at the Doriel Manor, provided the Imperial Court agrees to negotiate with the Sura Clan,” Azula said with a single nod, sitting down and ignoring the curious looks he received from the courtiers.
Dio gave him a relieved, approving nod.
When Dio shifted his focus to the Dowager Basilinna Olneth, his fleeting vulnerability vanished, replaced by the cold, unyielding iron of an absolute monarch. He straightened his spine, staring her down with terrifying authority.
“This court has delayed the truth of the forged silver coin case for far too long,” Dio thundered, his voice brooking no dissent. “The Palace Commandery Office will immediately assume control of the investigation. Draeya Prince and Prince Kailu, you have two weeks to hunt down the villain Sazama, expose his ties to the ore thefts, and deliver the true mastermind behind the forged silver to this throne.”
Dio stood, his imperial robes snapping as he swept his commanding gaze across the silent room.
“Furthermore, since Basilinna Soriel has presented hard evidence regarding the gray assassins, I assign Lord General Haedor to assist her in conducting a thorough inquiry into the Imperial arsenal thefts. They will interrogate anyone involved, regardless of rank or station.”
Dio turned his piercing stare back to Olneth, his final decree falling like an executioner’s blade.
“The Dowager Basilinna Olneth is stripped of her privileges and confined to her quarters under heavy guard until my final decision is reached. Let no one question the crown’s justice. This court session is adjourned.”
*****
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