Less than half an hour later, the largest Council Hall in the Lord’s Manor was already filled to capacity.
Officials from all corners of the city had clearly occupied every seat in the meeting room, yet at this moment, the vast chamber was deathly silent.
The sound of expensive fabric rubbing against muscle, the adjusting of breaths, the beating of hearts, and the ever-burning hearth fire—these were the only noises to be heard.
Mell, the one who attempted to assassinate Cecilia, was dead.
The city had been abuzz with the news in recent days.
Every day, people connected to Mell were dragged away, but none were ever released.
It was as if they had vanished into thin air.
Those who had even the slightest connection to Mell naturally could not escape suspicion.
Some had prayed that no one would uncover those links.
Others wanted to flee the city but feared arousing suspicion.
Still, some had even considered destroying evidence.
But no one truly dared to take action.
Days passed in silence, though the sword hanging over their heads remained—its presence unyielding and seemingly endless.
Today, it was time.
Some even felt a faint sense of relief.
Better to have the sword of judgment fall than to live in constant dread.
Ta, ta, ta, ta.
Footsteps approached steadily, the massive doors of the Council Hall swung open, and Cecilia’s figure appeared at the entrance.
Flanked by a silver-haired girl none of them recognized, Cecilia made her way to the head of the hall and took her seat.
Silence continued to deepen.
Behind Cecilia, the crackling of the hearth fire was once again one of the few sounds filling the room.
A few faint sounds of throat clearing and clothing shifting briefly reached everyone’s ears, but soon fell silent, as if those noises might betray the turmoil within.
The silence tightened like a noose.
Amid the silence, Cecilia’s gaze swept evenly across every face.
The figures seated seemed less like living humans and more like rigid statues.
Each lowered their eyes—some staring at the tabletop, others fixated on their clasped fingers.
Some feigned calm; others were at a loss.
Some could no longer hide their fear and longed to leave immediately.
“Rita.”
“Yes.”
“Bring out that thing.”
“Understood.”
The exchange between master and subordinate was terse, yet every eye snapped to the bundle Rita unfurled.
Inside lay a thick stack of Account Books, their contents self-evident.
Some eyes began to move greedily, almost wanting to snatch the ledgers away.
Unfortunately, Rita not only carried the Account Books but also a sheathed sword.
And even those unfamiliar with the Holy Knight Trials had heard of Rita.
There were rumors that she had some kind of connection to the Dream Demon, but that was clearly just gossip.
More importantly, she had defeated the Crimson Spear barehanded on the arena field.
Even without her sword drawn, no one would dare seize the ledgers from her.
“Here, we have an Account Book belonging to Mell,” Cecilia’s fingers caressed the yellowed pages. “It records many interesting details.”
“She is accused of attempting to assassinate the kingdom’s Fourth Princess, monopolizing the Gem Industry, assassination, smuggling, running brothels… I believe everyone here has heard these charges.”
“But she was just a merchant. How could she have done all these things?” Cecilia left the question hanging, causing everyone to hold their breath.
“Because I’ve been told that many among you here have tangled connections to her—and these are the proofs.”
The most direct accusation, the most undeniable evidence, leaving no room for rebuttal.
Cecilia’s fingers slid down the spine once more. “What if these are submitted to my father? What do you think will happen then?”
With a thud, a middle-aged man fell from his chair and scrambled to Cecilia’s feet, but under Rita’s watchful gaze—like a dog guarding its food—he dared not move further.
“Your Highness! Most noble princess! Please spare me! I beg you!”
Thud.
Another fall, this time a desperate plea.
“Your Highness! Please spare my life! I will give you all my possessions! I am willing to be exiled to the Northlands to plant potatoes!”
One by one, the sounds of bodies hitting the floor echoed, chairs toppled, and the hall soon filled with a sea of kneeling figures, their cries of supplication ringing out.
Murmurs broke out.
“What’s going on? Should we kneel too?”
“Better to kneel first. I’ve never seen a scene like this.”
“You— you actually also have connections to Mell…”
“No, I don’t. But seeing everyone kneeling alone seems awkward.”
Those with the leisure to argue were few.
Most were frantic with pleading, many weeping bitter tears, filled with regret.
Witnessing such a scene, for the first time, Rita felt the phrase “widespread grief” (utter devastation) was apt to describe a room.
“Enough.”
Cecilia rose from her chair, lifting the topmost Account Book.
The pleas immediately diminished, leaving only a few lingering sobs.
Confusion, despair, and supplication—all kinds of gazes gathered like a swarm of returning bees, fixated on the slim volume in Cecilia’s hand.
She turned around and casually tossed the ledger aside.
It flipped open midair with a rustling sound, tracing a parabola before landing in the hearth fire.
The pages were swallowed by flames instantly.
Rising heat turned them to charred ashes.
The air seemed to freeze completely.
But Cecilia’s actions did not cease.
Another book was taken up and hurled into the roaring fire, then a third, a fourth.
Within minutes, the thick stack had become a pile of flying ashes, the only proof of their existence the acrid scent of burning paper lingering in the air.
“I have not read a single one of these Account Books,” Cecilia declared. “This is clearly a trap set by those who wish to sow discord within Sorus City. They are not worth even a glance. It’s late, and you all have work to do. I hope you will do your utmost in your respective duties.”
Cecilia sat back down, lifting her golden eyes to survey the officials still kneeling.
“Why are you still kneeling?”
Everything Cecilia said was a lie, and no one was unaware of that.
Yet that lie brought many a sense of great relief.
As they left the Lord’s Manor, everyone replayed the events that had just transpired, the tension felt as if they had danced on the brink of death.
“This is a huge relief… I thought I was done for.”
“But did she really not read them?”
“Are you stupid? No one knows if she has copies! Just do your job! If this happens again, we’ll lose these books too!”
“People say she’s a cursed princess, but… she really saved us all.”
Once the crowd dispersed, Rita no longer held back her praise.
“Lady Cecilia, that move of yours was truly impressive!”
“If you sincerely praise me, then I will accept it,” Cecilia said, reaching out her small hand for Rita to steady her as she jumped down from the chair.
“But do you really think they will abide by the rules?”
“No, but at least they’ll behave for a while. During that time, Angus will have enough opportunity to select new candidates from the List.”
Terrifying—it really was a duplicate! And Cecilia still intends to settle the score with those people?
I was mistaken to think Cecilia was so merciful, generous, beautiful, gentle, and kind!
Oh, the beauty is not an illusion—Cecilia is indeed stunning.
“Rita, I can guess what you’re thinking.” Cecilia lightly pinched the palm of Rita’s hand, causing her to flinch.
“I—I wasn’t thinking anything,” Rita stammered awkwardly.
“Letting them off today is for Sorus City’s sake. But they have sinned. Allowing them to keep their positions would be irresponsible to both the city and the kingdom. In fact, some of them should be grateful just to keep their lives.”
“But… won’t they cling to their original powers?”
“Angus holds the List, and I have signed it in the name of the Princess as guarantee. Do you think they dare?”
Cecilia shot Rita a look of bitter disappointment, as if silently urging her to be smarter and understand her intention.
Rita could only respond with a rather foolish smile.
“By the way, their punishments have already been decided.”
After a few steps, Cecilia suddenly slowed her pace. “Rita, what about yours?”
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