Chapter Thirty - The Crown’s Case
CHAPTER THIRTY
The Crown's Case
THE CROWN CLERK began his case with the presentation of the Iron Keep logbooks.
He held up the ledger so all could see Dorian’s signature for the removal of the schematics for the Iron Keep and the Onyx Tower.
It was indisputably Dorian’s handwriting, as confirmed by Prince Cedric who also confirmed that he had spoken with Dorian the night he came to collect them.
Though the worst confession had come from another brother.
The Clerk had turned to Osric and asked, “and of course, you saw the plans that night, did you not Prince Orsric?”
The young prince had glanced up at his wife, who in return had given him a pleading expression. Sweat had poured down the side of his face as he looked down at his hands, “I…do not recall.”
Marianne relaxed beside her until Bastian said, “oh come now brother, you told me yourself you had seen the plans in Lady Valehart’s hands as Prince Dorian carried your wife.”
Again Osric looked to Marianne who stared back at him with disbelief, with a wince he looked back at his hands, “I…yes…that’s right.”
Marianne had crumpled in on herself, and Rosamund had placed an arm around her.
“I’m sorry,” the young girl had whispered into her hands.
Osric looked wretched as he looked back up to her.
Rosamund wanted to be annoyed at him, but she could not blame him.
It was the truth after all. It was the one thing that none of them had been able to determine; why Dorian had the plans in the first place.
Neither Corvin or Wulf had an answer, and despite all their theories they had been unable to figure it out.
Then, witness after witness was paraded in front of the court.
There were servants of the Darnwell household who confirmed that Dorian had been seen at their townhouse.
Servants that wore gloves and scarfs, that hid every inch of their body and the marks of torture upon them.
Though Corvin would draw the courts attention to these facts the Crown Clerk argued that torture was sometimes necessary to produce a true confession.
There were Lords who testified that they had heard Dorian conspiring with Lord Darnwell at the betrothal ceremony and at Aurelian’s Ball.
Rosamund recognised one of them from Lavinia’s salon.
A weasel like young man who had vied for her attention until Leoric Darnwell had supplanted him.
A young man out for revenge or to advance himself.
Likely both. The tale he spun was believable, and Rosamund recognised the signs of Bastian’s tutelage.
There were hints of it in the way he spoke, that same bombastic style of the third brother that looked pathetic on the weasel lord.
There were so many of them. Each worse than the last. All of them spouting lies of Dorian’s involvement in the Darnwell Plot to free her brothers.
The last witness however was the worst of the lot.
Her heart sank and her breath caught in her throat.
As with the others, every inch of her was covered up to hide the marks of torture.
Her expression defeated, Rosamund looked at the Darnwell daughter with despair.
What had they done to her? What had they promised her?
She clutched her gloved hands together, her eyes red rimmed, her hair and clothes dirty from the road.
Or from a cell. She felt as if she was looking through a window to the past. This could have been her.
If her mother and aunts had not spirited her and Evelyne to the countryside.
It could have been her sat here, forced into testifying against an innocent man.
Her testimony would be as damning as the rest. A woman of noble birth, the daughter of Lord Darnwell. Even those prince’s they felt would be on their side would be compelled to listen. It would introduce doubt, which could take root within them.
She had to do something.
“Marianne, I need you to faint.”
“What?”
“I need you to faint. The more dramatic the better.”
The young princess panicked, “I, I can’t just faint on command.”
“Just pretend. Please.”
“Okay, okay!”
Marianne flopped her head on to Rosamund’s shoulder gently.
“A bit more dramatic than that,” said Rosamund out the corner of her mouth.
“Oh for the love of the goddess,” said Isolde as she jumped to her feet, “this is how you do it.”
For her small height the red head made quite a show as she gasped loudly and collapsed to the floor of the box in a fake faint.
“ISOLDE!” cried Aurelian, leaping from his seat in a similarly dramatic fashion, and climbing up the stepped viewing gallery towards her.
The people gathered stood, voices rising as they craned their necks to get a better view.
The Templars quickly moved forward to create a circle around Dorian, though he made no move to escape.
She saw the slightest sneer on his face as they moved towards him.
It was the first ‘him’ thing she had seen since he had risen out of the ground.
He was still in there. He wasn’t just this empty shell.
She did not have time to focus on it; she only had a few minutes.
Rosamund pushed against the crowd towards the witnesses.
She heard the clerk try to restore order and the Queen call out, “Give them a moment man. Her highness is overwrought. Give her time to compose herself and perhaps fetch some ice. It is damnable hot in here.”
She leaned perilously over the edge of the gallery and whispered, “Lady Darnwell.”
The frightened young girl turned to face her, and if it were possible, looked even more afraid, “Lady Valehart! I, I’m so sorry! They came in the night and-.”
Rosamund gave the young girl a reassuring smile, “You have nothing to apologise for. I am sorry for what you’ve had to endure. But you don’t have to do this.”
The girl looked on the verge of tears, “It, it was the only way to save you.”
Rosamund stared at the girl in surprise. Save her? What was she talking about? She had assumed the girl had come here to testify to save her own life.
“What do you mean?” asked Rosamund as the raucous continued.
Isolde got to her feet, saw Rosamund and immediately fainted again into Aurelian’s arms.
The girl reached up for her hand, “We might not have freed your brothers, but we could free you from the monster.”
Dorian. She means Dorian.
“Please Lady Darnwell, he isn’t what you think, I promise,” said Rosamund quickly, “refuse to testify and he and I will protect you. You can stay with us in the Veil. We won’t let any harm come to you, just don’t testify against him, please.”
The girls face crumpled and she pulled back her hand from Rosamund, “I have too. For you. They told me what had happened. The Prince of Death has enchanted you, Lady Valehart. I will save you, even if it is from yourself.”
Rosamund’s shoulders sank as she watched the young girl turn her back on her.
She had seen in her eyes the same fanaticism that had been in Lord Darnwell and in his sons.
Such devotion her father had inspired in his followers, it would be their downfall.
And now hers. Across the centre of the floor she saw the grin on Bastian’s face.
He had watched their exchange with delight.
Had he put these thoughts in her head? Had he played on her devotion to her father, to her family, to make her do this.
Rosamund felt her stomach churn at the thought as she returned to her place in the Royal Box.
Isolde made a miraculous recovery the moment she was seated.
“What happened?” she heard Aurelian whisper to his wife.
“I’ll tell you later,” she winked at him as she sat back down on the bench, giving her audience a ‘I will struggle on’ look which earned her an applause.
Aurelian hid his amused smile and returned to his stone throne. Rosamund was grateful that the theatrical couple had so easily jumped in to help, even if it was for nothing. Isolde had given her a questioning eyebrow, but Rosamund shook her head slightly.
“Well…fuck,” said the red head.
It was worse than any of them could have imagined.
Lady Darnwell’s testimony was without fault, no matter how Corvin tried to unpick it, she had an answer for every question, every gap in her story.
And she spoke with such conviction that she left few in doubt of her honesty.
Even Rosamund struggled not to believe her.
She described Dorian’s conversations with her father with such detail that she began to wonder if the two had not in fact spoken.
As she had feared, doubt was clear on even those whom she had hoped would vote in favour of Dorian.
Even the Queen had looked uneasy upon her throne.
When Lady Darnwell had finished, she stepped down from the box and glanced up at Rosamund, giving her a proud, if terrified, smile before being escorted away. The Queen cleared her throat, “We require a short recess before we continue.”
Whilst the Queen and many of those in the gallery cleared out of the hall, Rosamund made her way to where Corvin and Emrys sat.
“It is not as bad as you think.”
Rosamund paced in front of them, “it is worse than I thought it would be. Where did Bastian find all those people? And so quickly!”
“We have to assume that he has been planning this for some time,” said Emrys in the same calm tone as Corvin, it was starting to grate on her, “and your betrothed isn’t exactly the best at making friends.”
“Apart from the logbooks, much of what they have is testimony which cannot be corroborated. We still have a solid rebuttal,” said Corvin patting his scrolls, “and what I might lack in flair we have Sir Emrys for.”
The amber eyed young man grinned and bowed with a flourish of his hand. Despite herself Rosamund smiled. There were few that had as charming a tongue as Emrys. Just as Emrys stood up Aurelian approached them, “can I speak with you?”