Chapter Text
It had been a shock to the entire city—and, if word got out, the country would be next to marvel in horror.
It wasn’t as though death was an impossibility within the Tournament for the Throne, given the nature of the competition. Only the top candidates were insulated from assassination thanks to the Royal Magic, after all. But with some exceptions (the battle with Gideaux came to mind, as did the political platform of their erstwhile ally Catherina), no candidate seemed to be coming into Brilehaven with murderous intent. Everyone had their opinions, and their platforms to share them—if death were to wrap its hands around any of them, it would’ve likely been when the tourney’s next task was revealed. At least then, there might be easy ways to get around the bad publicity of it all… or, at least, that’s what Will had heard Fidelio muse during their exit from the Charadrius.
It was unfortunate, then, that the Paripus was proven wrong in a matter of days.
Also rather unfortunate: that crier—Batlin? — was very good at his job.
“People of Brilehaven! May I have your attention, please! The public trial of Eiselin Burchelli Meijal Hulkenberg in the murder of Milo Adriano Narcissus Maurizio will commence tomorrow morning! It’s bound to be a showstopper, one way or another, so be sure to get here bright and early if you want the good seats!”
“This is ridiculous!” Strohl slammed his fist into the wall behind him, and Will could almost feel the room shake from his anger—not that the Spider Den was the sturdiest inn this side of the port to begin with. The din from outside was nearly deafening. “She’s not the killer!”
Heismay sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “While we know this to be true, it’s our word against the so-called witnesses—all candidates to the Throne, with much more standing than we have. The victim being a candidate as well is… well, it doesn’t look good for us.”
“I thought that…” Will looked away, briefly, before locking eyes directly with Heismay. “I thought that our standing had changed after the Exhibition. So why…?”
“Mm. You received more attention, surely—but not more trust .” Heismay’s ears sagged as he lowered his hand from his face. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if there were unsavory sorts looking to get you out of the competition as promptly as possible.”
“As much as I hate to admit it, he has a point.” Strohl leaned forward, his fist reddened from its sudden journey to the back wall. “There’s still time left before Louis’ soiree. If you were to suddenly drop out, it would be far easier for someone to slip into the vacuum we leave behind, given that we are in his ‘employ,’ so to speak.”
“That’s so… so stupid, though!” Gallica sighed, burying her face in her hands. “She’s an angel! Most of the time! When food isn’t involved!”
Will grumbled. “Really making her case there, Gallica.”
“I’m just saying, I don’t see any reason beyond the whole… Milo-got-stabbed-with-a-pointy-thing thing for her to be blamed!”
“Gallica.”
“Look, it looks bad, okay!? I don’t believe it was her one bit, and neither should anyone else, but it—” Gallica grimaced. “If I didn’t know her, it’d be suspicious.”
“Truthfully, it’s likely a matter of convenience at its core.” Heismay scowled. “I and Strohl were in the marketplace, and the stall owners can attest to our visit. Strohl has made his mark as an honorable type, for better or for worse—”
An indignant squawk came from Strohl. “I was helping an old woman cross the street! That’s common decency! ”
“—and I was just cleared of my own dire charges, so the public would at least find it somewhat odd if I immediately aimed to have a new bounty placed on my head.” Heismay closed his eyes. “If the Captain were to be directly accused, certainly, I wouldn’t doubt they’d find a reason to blame this tragedy on an Elda—but he was seen in the Coliseum at the time of the murder, so unless they suddenly start to claim Elda have the ability to split themselves in twain, he’s out of contention.” As he opened his eyes, the eugief caught the fairy’s wary stare. Heismay coughed into his hand. “Yes, yes—I know it’s possible to learn that skill with my Archetype, but fortunately for us, the shadow cloning technique is limited to a radius of no more than a few feet.”
“Not to mention,” Strohl pointed out, “We haven’t exactly advertised that any of us can perform that skill, so it would likely be a moot point. Either way, Hulkenberg is the perfect target—outside of those who claimed her appearance at the crime scene, none have come forward to state that she was seen elsewhere…”
“...and the last we saw of her, she was on her way to grab a bite at the tavern,” Will realized. “Damn it… we should have stuck together. I didn’t—if I had thought for even a second— ”
Heismay frowned. “Do not blame yourself. It was not something any of us could have predicted.”
Strohl snorted. “Speak for yourself. All due to the dead? Milo had it coming. All that talk of beauty, insulting the other candidates within and out of earshot… I’m only surprised it took more than a day.”
“Yikes. But, speaking of that…” Gallica maneuvered herself toward Will, giving him a small pat on the shoulder before turning to Heismay. “Wouldn’t she need a motive? She didn’t know Milo personally.”
“ That is where our dear Captain would likely be involved.” Strohl stood up, approaching Will with a concerned look. “The prosecution could easily conjure up some motive based on evidence and timing, but if that were to fail, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d simply claim the Captain ordered her to do it, as revenge for a perceived slight or somesuch.”
“Lovely,” Gallica drawled. “Just fantastic. We finally get into Louis’ good graces, and he’s probably already prepping something like—” She put on an affectation, her eyes going cold and her grin going wicked. “‘I do not know these people, and they were never associated with me.’”
“...you should do theatre,” Will marveled. “That was spot-on.”
“Huh?”
“Let’s keep focused,” Strohl cut in. “The fact that they’re having a trial at all is a miracle, and it’s only happening because you’re a candidate. Unfortunately, the gallows are looming all the same. We need to start mounting a defense—”
Gallica raised her hand. “I think the Captain should use the Faker to—”
“No, not with our Archetypes,” he clarified, much to the fairy’s obvious chagrin. Then, Strohl paused. “Actually. We should be ready in case things go south. Good thinking.” Gallica beamed. “For now, though, I’m referring to a legal defense.”
“Wouldn’t this sort of oratory work be your expertise?” Heismay asked with a cocked eyebrow. “You are the noble here.”
Strohl shook his head. “I need to focus on the investigation. It’s my noble heritage that will likely allow me even a modicum of access to the scene and any other clues available to the constabulary. And like Heidmay said, I’ve made a name for myself and my character.” He turned to Heismay. “However, as far as Hulkenberg's defense goes, that all can be a double-edged sword. The masses may see my style of speech as bloated posturing or honeyed words. We need someone like you, someone who can cut to the quick and make harsh, incisive statements.”
“Not sure how much of a compliment that was, lad, but I see your point. I would be happy to, but…” Concern clouded Heismay’s face. “I was only recently cleared of my supposed crimes. It’s no guarantee every citizen is aware of this—or that they care. Still,” he agreed, “I’ll do my best to—”
“No.” Strohl and Heismay, eyes wide, turned toward Will. “I’ll take on the case.” As they—and Gallica, who looked at Will like he’d grown a whole new head—opened their mouths to argue, Will held up a hand. “Hulkenberg is in this mess… no, all of you are because of me. I’m the candidate for the Throne, and I put you all at risk for the mission to begin with. It’s my responsibility.”
“Captain…” Heismay hesitated, words hovering at his lips.
Will pushed forward. “Elda or not, I’ve made an impression. Whether or not they believe me, they’ll listen. And if they listen, maybe—just maybe—they’ll start to come around to the truth on their own. But,” he added, “I’ll be relying on you all to make that happen. Strohl, I’m trusting you to take a good look at the crime scene. Don’t leave any stone unturned.”
“Right.”
“Heismay, would you be willing to listen in on the locals? Try for the tavern, the inns, Nightprowler—I want to get a feel for what we’re up against, and any arguments we might be able to refute if we prepare well enough.”
“Aye aye, Captain.”
“Gallica, we’re headed for the prison. We need to talk with Hulkenberg and get her side of the story before tomorrow. We can all reconvene and put our case together before dawn.”
Gallica let out a hum. “I’m impressed, Captain—you’re on top of this! Does your book have a chapter about murder investigations?”
Will grinned, a shaky, nervous thing. “Not exactly.”
Gallica frowned. “...what does that mean, Will?”
“I may have… borrowed a book from Basilio the last time we were at Nightprowler. It’s pretty addictive. Hopefully he hasn't noticed yet.”
“You did wh—wait, that muscle-brain can read?! ”
Will shrugged. “I guess?”
Gallica's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “Huh. You think you know a guy.”
“Oi, Del. Y’know where m’copy of ‘I Rest My Case’ went?”
“What?”
“The one with the guy who becomes a kid because of some creeps and an igniter deal gone wrong, solves crimes, keeps finding dead bodies?”
“...oh, that one. Not a clue.”
“Damn. Maybe Lord Louis borrowed it.”
“...I highly doubt that. Keep better track of your shit, Bas.”
Strohl crossed his arms. “In any case, do we know who’s prosecuting, let alone acting as judge?”
Heismay shrugged. “I’d expect a local lawman for the prosecutor, if only to save time. As for the judge, considering the victim was a candidate…”
Will's shoulders slumped. “Let me guess. Forden?”
Strohl shuddered. “Most likely, yes. Or Gideaux, if we’re lucky.”
Gallica let her head fall into her hands again. “We’re doomed.”
“Not necessarily!” Strohl clasped his hands, rubbing them in an obvious attempt to distract himself from his own words. “After all, if the opposing counsel is incompetent, or if our evidence is convincing enough, we don’t need to convince Forden of anything. The court of public opinion will overwhelm him. I'm certain of it.”
“You might be onto something.” Will sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just hope it’ll be enough.”
“Won’t know until tomorrow.” Heismay turned toward the door. “Shall we be off?”
“Yeah.” Will clenched his fist as the others began to file out of the room. We’re gonna save you, Hulkenberg—we’ll find the truth and get you out of this alive. I swear it.
Nothing’s going to stand in our way.
The stack of papers landed on the podium. Fading daylight filtered through the stained-glass windows of the gauntlet runner. “...I have to admit, your credentials are rather impressive.”
The man offered a deep bow, his azure locks illuminated by the evening sun. “Thank you, Father Gideaux. I hope that this serves as proof enough of my ability?”
Gideaux shrugged. “On paper, at least. Without actual records, there’s only so much I can presume—but you seem the reliable sort, if you can convince us.”
“You honor me.”
Gideaux nodded absentmindedly, his eyes focused instead on his sanctifex. Forden cleared his throat. “As you are aware, the defense is likely to involve the Eldan candidate, but I will make an early judgment that he cannot be allowed to speak for the defense. I can’t imagine the trial will last more than an hour—if that. Ensure that this production of ours goes as discussed.”
“By your grace, it shall be a show to remember.” The man turned to leave. “I must prepare, then—it will be quite the busy day tomorrow.”
“Wait.” Forden’s gaze narrowed. “While your devotion to Sanctism is truly commendable, to offer up such expertise to aid us in this affair… I presume you’re looking for prestige?”
The man peered over his shoulder. “What makes you think that, your eminence?”
Forden rolled his eyes. “It would not behoove you to play the fool. You’d be known nation-wide as the man who brought down a killer knight and her heretical master, smothering the latter’s chances at kinghood in the cradle. Naturally, that would come with no shortage of recognition.” His words carried a certain weight, as he emphasized, “From all walks of life.”
The man shook his head. “While that kind of notoriety would certainly be a benefit for most, I have little interest in it. I promise you that I offer you my services with nothing but the best of intentions.”
Gideaux’s grip on his staff tightened. “What would those intentions be, Mr. Cuculus?”
“Nothing untoward, I assure you.” Alonzo smiled, showing none of his teeth as he donned his hat. “I wish only to perform my civic duty, and see justice done. Closurei.”