“Not many people can say that they’ve entered the Grandis Court of Noble Law, right?” Schwarz asked, looking around the place. “It’s neat.”

“The fact that few people entered, or the place in general?” Farah asked. “Well, it’s the usual court set up, just that there’s a throne for His Majesty to sit in. We’re a bit early, I think. Court is not yet in session…well, it usually isn’t, until something happens. Then it is in session.”

“Is that how it works?” Dia asked.

“You don’t know?”

“Well, most disputes within Lustre are settled informally. Most of the time, it’s my father making concessions in exchange for gains, and vice-versa. And there’s this noble pride thing going too. People would rather lose their arm than to default on their contracts…probably.”

“And those nobles who are knee-deep in all kinds of sin don’t even qualify to be formally charged,” Risti added. “They’re just executed on the spot, extra-judicially.”

“I see. Well, put that way, this whole thing sounds even rarer,” Farah mumbled.

Dia looked around the courtroom. The notion of a court of law was, frankly speaking, quite unique. Most cases in Lustre were heard in the Lustre court, whose layout was quite simple — her father’s throne at the rear end of the long court, and his subjects at the right and at the left. People pleading a case would be in the middle portions of the court, typically on their knees.

This set-up, however, was quite novel. In front of the elevated throne was a long table with multiple seats, and in front of the long table, at a good distance away, were three tables that were spaced evenly apart. The centre table aligned with the centre of the long table, as well as the Emperor’s throne; Dia could tell that it was where the speaker presenting his or her case would stand.

Behind these tables were theatre seats of sorts. Was this intended to be some sort of spectacle? Dia couldn’t help but think so.

“I like this layout,” Schwarz muttered. “Right, where do we all sit?”

“Me and Miss Beverly will be occupying one of the tables there,” Farah replied. “You guys will be in the audience seats.”

“There’s no ticket fee, right?” Dia asked.

“I know this whole thing looks like a stage play or something, but no. There’s no audience fee,” Farah replied. “Anyhow, you guys should take a seat. I’ll go meet with Miss Beverly outside. Don’t bother waiting for me to come back; I’ll have to follow her into the actual court itself.”

“Okay…”

Dia found herself missing the little bundle of warmth as she sat down with the others on the mahogany chairs.

“So, a lawsuit, huh.” Schwarz made a face. “I’m going to memorise the proceedings and everything, just so I can have a nice story or something. Gotta entertain my customers!”

“You haven’t really done much serving for a few years, though,” Risti pointed out.

“True, but this does not mean I’ll ever return to them again,” Schwarz replied. “Hmm. This atmosphere is a bit stifling, though. Guess we can’t really use this for bars, right?”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think anyone’s going to drink here,” Risti replied. “But this is the audience’s seating, right? Maybe some of the audience members might see it fit to pack some alcohol and food. Who knows?”

“Considering that the Emperor has to drop by, I think anyone who dares to do such a thing would be the bravest of them all. Probably braver than the Thief of Time.”

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

“Tot stole the Cosmic Egg while it was being watched by the gods and the rulers of the world,” Dia replied. “I don’t think slighting Emperor Grandis tops that.”

“True. How about—”

The doors behind them opened, cutting off Schwarz’s words, and people began to pour into the courtroom. A single glance at their clothes was enough to reveal their noble origins; at first glance, the thread and cloth involved in their production was way too luxurious.

“Audience members,” Dia muttered. “Are people that free? Or are they this starved of entertainment?”

She tracked the incoming people. Were they people that Farah’s parents had rallied to their side? Or were these people who had been tracking the Farah County situation for a very long time and wanted to see its finale and how it culminated? Dia couldn’t tell, but for some reason, she believed that a good portion of these people were actually here for a very inane reason.

They were just bored.

Before she could say anything else, however, the sounds of more doors opening followed, and three distinct groups of people filed into the courtroom. Emerging from the door to Dia’s left was Farah and Miss Beverly, while the door to the right opened to reveal a middle-aged couple with green hair.

The long table further away was swiftly populated by stately looking men and women, but Dia could not feel any particular threat from them, or, for that matter, anyone else in the courtroom.

Except for the person standing in the table between Farah’s and that of her parents. Before Dia could examine the youthful-looking man any further, however, the man in question rapped the table once.

“All rise, for Emperor Grandis, the sun of the Empire.”

There was a faint compulsion in his words. Dia, if she wanted to, could easily resist it, but there was no point in trying to stand out like an idiot right now. The others didn’t resist it either, and everyone rose to their feet as the highest and furthest door slid open.

A slender man with a gold crown on his head took his place on the opulent throne, and Dia shivered. This was not the first time she had seen the legendary Emperor, but this was indeed the first time after the Trial of Aeons that she had seen him. There was a slight chance that Emperor Grandis might have spotted her there too, but if he did, he didn’t give off any indication.

More importantly, however, were the nine-coloured robes and the nine halos that adorned his body. Dia had seen them precisely during the Trial of Aeons; she knew that this was Emperor Grandis’ combat attire.

Was he prepared to fight? Or did he come here after fighting? What was the reason behind him wearing his combat gear right now?

Dia frowned as these questions bombarded her head, and she fervently hoped that the only reason why the Emperor was in full battle regalia was because he was returning from a fight.

“Subjects of mine, be seated.” The Emperor paused. “Rare is the occasion that I am invited to preside over a matter as serious as this, but there is no other choice. Nonetheless, I am glad to see that the usual faces are here.”

He gestured once. “My dear bailiff, please do continue.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” The young man bowed. “Today’s case, Your Majesty, is Countess Farah versus Pleoa and Aplis Epiekeia.”

Dia blinked for a moment, and then remembered that Farah had abandoned pretty much her old name and everything. As it turned out, the original Farah County was probably called Epiekeia County…which was disappointing, since there seemed to be an ongoing theme related to light in the Istrel Sovereignty.

While she cleared her head of these thoughts, Emperor Grandis nodded and asked, “Are both sides ready to present their cases?”

Farah, her parents and their legal cases got up, and their voices echoed as one. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Very well. Bailiff, record the attendance of the defendants and their counsel.” Emperor Grandis glanced casually at Farah’s parents. “Hmph. Then begin.”

Dia couldn’t help but think that this case was going to fall in Farah’s favour from the get-go. After all, the judge himself was already biased towards the plucky little countess who picked up what her parents had abandoned…and Emperor Grandis was one with an eye for talent.

Miss Beverly stood up. “Your Majesty, I am Beverly Julan, and I am representing Countess Farah in this case. Countess Farah seeks to disinherit the people she grudgingly calls her parents in order to avert a replay of the tragedy that struck her territory two decades ago, the perpetuators of which are…”

Dia listened on with rapt attention as the dapper little lawyer refreshed everyone’s memories about the severe misgovernance of Farah’s parents. She couldn’t help but note that the defence counsel hadn’t even bothered to listen; it was as if Miss Beverly’s opponent was already accepting that defeat was inevitable.

“In that case,” Dia murmured, “they must be relying on that out-of-court settlement.”

“Seems like it,” Risti added. “It’s like watching students who, the moment an exam begins, get up and leave with utter confidence…”

Dia chuckled. “Yes, I do remember seeing that in school.”

“Even nobles do that?”

“They do, trust me.” Dia chuckled. “Anyway, I suppose we’ll need to lend Farah some support. Let’s go get the lovebirds and the baby over once they move to the private moments bit, shall we?”