The carriage ride was uneventful, marked mostly by a heavy, strained silence.

  Lord Rockford’s earlier words, “I only wish the circumstances were happier…” echoed persistently in my mind, a knot of unease tightening in my stomach with every jolt of the wheels. What did he mean? What circumstances? No one in the carriage elaborated. I certainly didn't dare ask, and Lady Irene, despite her earlier kindness, maintained a stoic silence, gazing out the window. Did she know more than I did?

  No idea. The not-knowing was almost as bad as whatever the bad news might be.

  We rumbled through the streets of Aegis. I saw glimpses of gigantic, opulent manor houses belonging to other noble families, sprawling parklands with manicured gardens, intricate canal systems crisscrossing the city like silver ribbons, and countless people from every imaginable social class going about their day.

  Aegis truly was a marvel, a testament to architectural and perhaps magical ingenuity. I’d never seen anything like its harmonious blend of nature and construction on Earth, not even in pictures—especially not the subtle thrum of magic that seemed to underpin everything. It all looked so… idyllic, beautiful, almost too perfect on the surface.

  But now, after my brief, brutal stay with the Ainsworths, I knew a darker, uglier reality could fester behind those grand, noble doors. Maybe not all nobles were like Ainsworth, but the doubt was firmly planted. Some of them definitely are.

  It didn't take long for the bumpy ride over the rough cobblestones to end. Peeking out the carriage window, I saw we’d stopped before a large, rather plain grey stone building. It was imposing due to its size but lacked any of the ostentatious decoration of the noble manors or the Arcane Sanctum. A few guards were positioned at the entrance, but nothing seemed particularly out of the ordinary.

  The carriage rolled to a halt. A uniformed footman promptly opened the door, offering a hand to assist. Lord Rockford exited first, his movements fluid and dignified, followed closely by Lady Irene, her expression unreadable but focused. I scrambled out after them, my heart racing, making sure to keep a respectful distance while trying not to trip over my own feet in my haste.

  A handful of other people were getting out of their own carriages nearby—stern-faced men in fine clothes, women with worried expressions, all looking like they’d rather be anywhere else. I didn't recognize any of them, of course.

  Lord Rockford strode towards the entrance of the grey building without hesitation, Lady Irene a step behind him. I quickly fell in line, my stomach churning with every step. Was it the thought of seeing that miserable bastard Victor Shitsworth again, or the impending prospect of standing before the King of this country? Probably a lovely combination of both.

  “Greetings, Lord Rockford, Lady Irene,” one of the guards at the entrance said, holding a clipboard. He bowed respectfully as we approached. Lord Rockford gave a curt nod in return.

  “Are all parties present?” he asked, his voice low and authoritative.

  The guard consulted his clipboard, then nodded. “Yes, My Lord. Everyone on the list has arrived. Shall we escort Lady Irene and the boy inside?”

  Lord Rockford paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping over me briefly. “Please escort Lady Irene in. I will follow with the boy shortly.”

  The guard gestured towards the heavy oak doors, and Lady Irene, after a quick, encouraging glance in my direction, followed him inside. The other people who had arrived in carriages also passed us, each offering a brief, respectful bow to Lord Rockford before being led into the building by another guard.

  And then… I was standing alone with the Archmage of Astoria. The silence felt… heavy. Definitely uncomfortable.

  Lord Rockford stared up at the overcast sky for a while, seemingly lost in thought. Then, without turning, he spoke my name. “Grim.” He didn't continue, just let my name hang in the air.

  “Yes, Lord Rockford?” I asked as politely as I could manage, my voice a little shaky.

  The tall mage finally turned to face me, his green eyes serious, and he let out a heavy sigh.

  “I wish to be frank with you, Grim… we’ve received some information. Information that will unnecessarily complicate the entire trial concerning Lord Ainsworth.” He looked directly at me, his gaze intense. “Therefore, I must implore you, no matter what happens in there, no matter what is said or done… please, control yourself. If you lose your temper and harm Lord Ainsworth—who has not yet been convicted—or anyone else, whether intentionally or not… then no one, not even I, will be able to protect you. Before the law, all are equal in Astoria. Can you promise me that you will maintain your composure? And if you feel you cannot,” his voice softened slightly, “then please, leave the court before it comes to that.”

  I looked into his luminous green eyes, seeing the genuine concern there, then had to lower my gaze. Pip was safe at Irene’s. And I didn't think Ainsworth was stupid enough to try anything physically aggressive in a royal court, especially if he wasn't armed. He wouldn’t dare, would he?

  I looked up again and nodded slowly. “I will try my best, Lord Rockford.”

  Lord Rockford gave a short, unconvinced nod, then did something completely unexpected. He reached into the folds of his deep green robe and somehow produced his enormous staff, the one with the polished obsidian tip.

  Where the hell did he pull THAT from?! It’s huge!

  He must have seen my bewildered expression because a rare, slight chuckle escaped him. “Perhaps, if this day concludes satisfactorily, I might explain that little secret to you. But time presses. Please, step back a few paces.”

  I didn’t need to be told twice. Quickly, I retreated several meters.

  Lord Rockford raised his staff, and the obsidian tip began to glow with an intense blue light, a low hum filling the air. A shimmering blue sphere coalesced around the obsidian, growing rapidly, crackling with contained energy. Tiny tendrils of blue lightning snaked out from the sphere, and the very air around him seemed to ripple and distort.

  Lord Rockford took a deep, steadying breath, then his voice boomed out, deep and resonant, shaking with power, “Bulwark…”

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  He slammed the butt of his staff onto the cobblestone ground with a resounding crack.

  And… nothing happened.

  Ehm…? Was that it? I looked around, confused.

  But then, a split second later, the ground beneath my feet began to tremble. The blue sphere atop Lord Rockford’s staff suddenly exploded outwards, not with a bang, but with a silent, rushing expansion of pure energy.

  A gigantic, translucent blue dome erupted from that point, sweeping over us, over the courthouse, over the entire courtyard, becoming momentarily solid-looking before stabilizing into a shimmering, almost invisible barrier.

  It was breathtaking… Insane. So this was the kind of power an Archmage could wield. I stood there with my mouth hanging open, staring in awe at the protective bulwark he had just created around the entire proceedings.

  Before I could fully gawk at the spectacle, the usually calm man spoke with uncharacteristic urgency, “Come, Grim. We should not keep the court waiting.” And he didn’t wait, striding purposefully towards the courthouse doors.

  We entered the building, and it was… surprisingly plain. Nothing like the opulent Ainsworth manor or even the magically charged clutter of the Arcane Sanctum.

  We stood in a wide reception hall, stone-flagged, leading into several different corridors. The walls were the same grey stone as the exterior. The doors and the few pieces of furniture—benches, a simple reception desk—were made of dark, heavy, unadorned wood. It felt serious, functional, no trace of luxury.

  Lord Rockford proceeded directly into the corridor to our right, then took a left turn after a few meters. Our footsteps echoed loudly in the dim, stone passageway, lit only sparsely by flickering torches set in wall sconces. With every step drawing us undeniably closer to the hearing, my nervousness intensified, an uneasy feeling making itself at home in my stomach.

  After a short walk, we stopped before a pair of large, imposing double doors made of the same dark wood. “Ready?” he asked, his voice calm and reassuring.

  I just swallowed hard and managed a jerky nod. Oh boy… Please don’t let me faint from sheer anxiety.

  But Lord Rockford didn’t give me time to spiral further into panic. He pushed open the heavy double doors and stepped inside.

  An overwhelming flood of light momentarily blinded me. I threw up a hand to shield my eyes, blinking rapidly.

  As my vision slowly adjusted, what I saw didn’t just surprise me; it made me wonder if I’d stepped into another world entirely.

  We were standing in a kind of… indoor winter garden? The ceiling was a massive glass dome, through which soft, diffused daylight poured in. The floor wasn’t stone, but covered in lush green grass and patches of soft moss. Plants of all kinds grew everywhere—ferns, flowering shrubs, even a few small, slender trees, their leaves a vibrant green. It was a beautiful, tranquil, yet utterly surreal place for a court hearing.

  The large, circular room was filled with people, maybe a hundred or so, all seated on simple wooden chairs arranged in curved rows. As we entered, nearly every head turned to look at us. I quickly moved to stand beside Lord Rockford, feeling very small and exposed.

  Now I could see the entire hall. The attendees were a mixed group. There were at least two dozen City Watch guards and perhaps a dozen mages in various robes, stationed strategically around the perimeter. The rest of the audience seemed to be a mix of richly dressed nobles and more plainly attired individuals who looked like middle-class merchants or guild members. They were seated on either side of a central aisle.

  At the far end of that aisle, slightly to the left, I saw him—Lord Ainsworth. He was seated at a table with another man I didn’t recognize, probably his legal counsel. Opposite them, to the right of the aisle, was another table with two empty chairs.

  And then, at the very center of the room, on a slightly raised, circular dais made of simple, light-colored stone, I saw them… the King and Queen of Astoria.

  The King was a surprisingly young man, perhaps in his late thirties or early forties. He had dark brown hair, neatly trimmed, and a dense, full beard that framed a strong jaw. His eyes were a startling steel-grey, sharp and piercing, and as they swept briefly over the room, I felt like they could see right through me. He wore surprisingly simple green clothing, a practical tunic and pants, with a dark brown leather vest over it.

  He looked… incredibly tired. His gaze was as sharp as a sword, but his face, the lines around his eyes, told a different story, one of weariness and heavy burdens.

  The Queen, seated beside him, appeared to be around the same age. She had long, curly brown hair that cascaded over her shoulders, and her eyes were a bright, clear blue. She wore a simple, elegant blue dress that complimented her eyes, without any overt jewels or ostentation. She looked… gentle. Kind. Like a loving mother from a storybook.

  What struck me most, though… I knew, instantly, who they were. Their regal bearing, the way they were positioned at the center of everything, the subtle deference in how everyone else in the room oriented themselves towards them—it was unmistakable. Yet, they wore such plain clothes. Neither of them had a crown, not even a simple circlet or tiara.

  It was so different from any depiction of royalty I’d ever known from my old life. And it made me feel even more out of place, standing there in my borrowed black clothes. My whole life, or what I remembered of it in this world, I’d been an outcast, homeless, someone nobody wanted anything to do with… a 'disgusting person’. And now I was standing before a true King and Queen, the most powerful people in this entire country.

  This is insane.

  A clear voice suddenly cut through my whirling thoughts, pulling me back to the present. “Now that Lord Rockford is present, let us begin the hearing.”

  A man with short, neatly combed grey hair and a dark, formal uniform stood in the center of the room, just before the dais. He was the only person standing besides the guards and us newcomers.

  Lord Rockford leaned down slightly and murmured to me, “Find an empty seat for now, Grim. I will call for you soon. When I do, you will sit at the table beside me.” He gave my shoulder a brief, reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry. You’ve already managed far worse than this.” With that, he strode confidently towards the empty table opposite of Lord Ainsworth’s, but remained standing behind it.

  I looked around nervously. There were a few scattered empty seats. My eyes landed on one next to a man who looked like a simple merchant, plainly dressed and looking rather bored.

  Okay, that’s where I’m going. I’d feel much less conspicuous there than next to some silk-clad aristocrat. I quietly made my way over and took the seat.

  Then, the man in the uniform spoke again, his voice ringing out clearly in the suddenly silent chamber.

  “Welcome to the Chamber of Final Light. I ask you all to please rise and greet King Richard and Queen Isabella of Astoria, and to remain standing in silent prayer for a fair judgment and true justice to prevail this day.” The man turned then, bowing his head deeply towards the King and Queen on the dais.

  Everyone in the room rose to their feet, a collective rustle of fabric as they followed his example, bowing their heads. I stood up, a moment late, feeling utterly perplexed and out of my depth. My hands started to sweat. Copying the others, I quickly bowed my head too.

  After a few moments of profound silence, the man spoke again. “Thank you. You may be seated.”

  Once everyone had settled, he continued, his voice now taking on a sterner, more formal tone. “I, Ambrosius Thorne, Justiciar of the High Court of Astoria, do hereby declare these proceedings open. Today, we have gathered to administer justice and to punish wrongdoing.”

  He let his words hang in the air for a beat, his gaze sweeping across the assembled crowd before turning directly to Lord Ainsworth.

  “Baron Victor Ainsworth, you stand accused before this court. It is alleged that you enslaved an innocent citizen of this land with a cursed Bracelet of Servitude and subsequently assaulted him when he was defenseless. Furthermore, you are accused of the cold-blooded murder of one of your own household servants. To these charges, how do you plead? Guilty, or not guilty?”

  The final words thundered through the hall, sharp and demanding.

  Every head in the chamber turned towards Lord Ainsworth… but Lord Ainsworth, his face a mask of arrogance, slowly turned his head towards me, as if he instinctively knew exactly where I was sitting.

  A slow, malicious grin spread across his face. Then, he turned back to face the court and declared loudly, his voice dripping with contempt,

  “Not guilty!”