The Noble Court of the Haiti Duchy.
The building was constructed from cold white marble, its dome soaring high above, its atmosphere solemn and oppressive.
Inquisitor Brian stood at the plaintiff's bench, his back ramrod straight.
He surveyed his surroundings.
Everything was under control.
Brian sneered silently to himself.
Those twelve jurors were all pawns he had carefully selected.
Viscount Barton, on the far left, had nearly been fleeced by Klein's merchant association last year and hated Lyman to the bone.
Beside him sat Count Drummond, a fanatical believer who spent longer praying before meals than eating them.
Eight sworn enemies, four fence-sitters.
A perfect lineup.
His gaze finally settled on the defendant's bench.
Lyman Klein, that old fox, still looked utterly unruffled.
And beside him, that young man named Veylin... was just as calm?
An inexplicable flicker of irritation rose in Brian's heart.
What a pretense!
He cleared his throat, his resonant voice echoing through the courtroom.
"Silence!"
Then he abruptly spread open the dossier in his hands and began reading the charges he had prepared long ago.
"I, Brian, an inquisitor of the Inquisition of the Eternal Radiance Church Sea Land Diocese, hereby accuse Lyman Klein, Count of Greenvein City, of organizing the sale of and selling forbidden drugs that profane divine grace, in flagrant violation of the Bloodline Purity Act!"
As his words rang out, he submitted one piece of "evidence" after another.
"This is a magical recording of the underground auction venue we raided!"
"This is an anonymous letter of denunciation from a courageous believer!"
"And this is the forbidden drug itself, recovered from Viscount Ferrier's residence!"
As the evidence was displayed one item at a time, murmurs filled the courtroom.
Count Lyman slowly rose to his feet and looked calmly at the judge.
"Your Honor,