"Marquis Benedict, please watch what you say during the conference." The Chief Justice said, shaking his head all the while.
"Well, that woman is also saying what she wants. Why can't I?"
The Chief Justice didn't respond anymore, knowing that Marquis Benedict was too stubborn to listen to anyone.
Count Schatten, who had his hand on the sphere to prevent it from playing the memory, closed his eyes as he sighed. He then clicked his tongue, loudly so it would reach Marquis Benedict's ears.
Without a doubt, it did.
The Marquis gave the Count a scowl, receiving one in return. Thankfully, because of the Count's action, Marquis Benedict was able to calm down.
"Are you willing to watch and listen without raising a fuss?" Count Schatten asked, sighing once more.
Marquis Benedict simply nodded, prompting the Count to take his hand off of the sphere.
[ "How did Hevelia die? Did you kill her with your own hands?" ]
[ "Well, yes, of course. How can I get satisfaction from knowing that Hevelia was killed by someone other than me? I'm not in the mood to discuss the details, so let's leave it. For the time being, I want you to keep that as a secret." ]
[ "Where's your answer?" ]
[ "You can trust me. I will make sure that no one knows of it." ]
While listening, Marquis Benedict balled his hands into fists and clenched his jaw. He had to stop himself from being enraged. It wasn't an easy task, considering that the mere mention of Sorsiana Hamlin's name made him infuriated.
The screen quickly showed another scene. This time, the setting was a room barely lit by a single torch placed by the door. In the center of the screen was a maid kneeling on the ground, her face struck with terror.
[ "Miss, I'm here to tell you about the conversation that I just overheard." ]
[ "The Duchess and the young master, they're planning to incarcerate the entire Bismarck family. I'm sure that you'll be next in line too. After all, if the Bismarck family has no hopes of backing you anymore, you're nothing but a commoner." ]
[ "You're going to die!" ]
The maid's words resonated deafeningly in everyone's ears. The silence that followed wasn't amicable, to say the least. The screen turned black, and so did the gazes of the people inside the room.
No one dared to say a single word. It was difficult for them to formulate anything worth saying in that tense of an atmosphere.
After a good few minutes, the first person to break the silence was Count Schatten.
"Are we here to condemn a dead woman or verify the identity of Lady Ilya Gertrude?" The Count queried as he took his seat. "Please decide within the next second. I have a trial to attend to in an hour."
"Can't you just cancel that? I'm pretty certain that it won't hurt your record if you did."
Marquis Benedict was the one to answer. The two representatives glared at each other like there were sparks in between them.
"In case you didn't know, one of the royals is involved in this case. It's not as if I can cancel the trial on my own volition. That's why," The Count then stood up and slammed his hands on the table, "Can you all please give your verdicts? Is this enough to prove that Lady Ilya Gertrude is the rightful heir to the Gertrude Dukedom?"
Rather than letting the conference drag on, the Chief Justice decided to hold the reigns.
"We have already verified that the Memory Sphere is a genuine one. The latter part of Lady Ilya Gertrude's memories clearly showed that she has relations with the Bismarck Family. However, it's not sufficient as a piece of evidence. We have to acquire a definite proof, one that is irrefutable to declare her as the heir."
While some of the judges contemplated the Chief Justice's words, a few had uncanny expressions on their faces. It's as if they had seen the ghosts of their pasts, or maybe, the ghosts that were still chasing them. And Marquis Benedict noticed their apprehensions right away.
However, he decided not to address them. There were more pressing matters to be put under the spotlight.
"I concur. For Ilya Gertrude to be recognized as the heir, we have to use Manna either to recover the Duke's memories or identify Ilya's relation with the Duke through their blood. The Emperor won't pardon us if we dare present these memories as evidence." Count Schatten said as he took a stand, glancing at Marquis Benedict afterward.
Receiving daggers for a gaze, the Marquis had no choice but to speak his mind.
"Unfortunately, we can't use those methods anymore. The Duke's body is completely barren of blood. We also can't recover his memories since it's been more than a week since his death. His body had already turned into dust."
Another moment of quietude descended in the room. The Count scanned the countenances of the judges sitting around the table.
The longer the silence lasted, the scowl on his face grew nastier. He couldn't bring himself to tolerate their reticence, considering it was after the announcement of his upcoming trial.
'I understand that this issue warrants our full attention. Withal, they don't have to be this indecisive. They're judges, for heaven's sake.' The Count complained merely in his head, but he was on the verge of letting his thoughts spill out.
Thankfully, he was able to hold himself back.
Else, a wave of argument would come anew and take the conversation to another level of lacking in productivity.
To his solace, someone finally had the courage to speak. But the scowl on his face merely became deeper as he listened to them talking.
"We're the only ones who are allowed to see the memories, correct? Moreover, who is more deserving to inherit the Gertrude Dukedom than a relative of the foremost Duchess, Helvetia von Bismarck?"
Count Schatten slammed his hand on the table, clicking his tongue as hard as he could. He then glared at the speaker and uttered, "So, what are you trying to say? That we should go ahead and give the verdict that Ilya Gertrude is the daughter of the late Duke and Duchess?"
"Exactly, isn't that what the Lady wants? Hence, in exchange for allowing us to exploit these memories, we have to declare her legitimacy."
In the end, everything went according to what Ilya had planned.
She threw the bait.
And someone welcomed it with their arms wide open.