Chapter – 37
Chapter 4
The day of the decisive trial had arrived.
When we arrived at the large courtroom, trial officials and spectators were already gathering in small groups.
Most of them had come with the mindset of “let’s at least get a look at the lord who caused all this trouble,” but no matter how much they cursed or threw mud, Count Vécdelace was trembling with worry over his child.
Whether he was strong-hearted or simply sensitive, the count tightly held the hands of Biretta and Iola one by one.
“Please, I beg of you. Bring Lucy back to my arms. Now, you’re the only one I can trust.”
“Of course. I’ll do my best for you and your daughter. If everything goes well, you’ll get what you promised.”
“Ah, yes. Sure. You can borrow whatever you need—people, even… a painting. I don’t know why it’s needed, but I’ll do it.”
He grasped Biretta’s hand without hesitation and shook it.
Iola’s expression became subtly strained. Seeing this, Lanken, who was seated near Biretta in the audience, nervously chewed his nails.
“Another new lawyer has shown up.”
At that moment, the count’s wife, Elena, appeared holding their daughter.
Lucy, cradled in her arms, waved at her father.
“Daddy!”
“Lucy! Oh… oh, are you eating well? Sleeping well? Don’t you miss me?”
“Daddyy~ Why aren’t you home!”
“Lucy! H-How did your hair grow so long in just a month!”
“Hair grows, that’s normal.”
Next to the sobbing count, Iola muttered something reasonable under her breath. Biretta, unable to restrain her rationality, gently nudged her with her elbow and stepped forward.
“Don’t come closer. The trial isn’t over yet.”
As the count and Biretta tried to approach, Elena turned her body to shield Lucy, moving her to the opposite side.
Carrying a fairly big child was a deliberate provocation toward the count. The message was clear: “My child is in my arms, and I will never give her to you.”
She glared fiercely at the count, accompanied by Biretta and Iola.
“Even after losing twice, you still don’t know when to give up? Or did you just bring anyone as a lawyer now because you don’t have one?”
“Elena, come back now.”
“No. I can’t let Lucy grow up under a father as irresponsible as you. Elena must grow up under parents who believe in her potential.”
“What are you talking about! I care about our family sincerely. I—”
Forgetting even that the trial was about to begin, the count tried to approach Elena.
Biretta blocked him humbly but firmly, facing off against Elena.
“Before the trial, minimize contact with your opponent, sir. Lucy will leave the arms of her unqualified mother and come to her father anyway.”
Elena raised her eyebrows sharply at the calm yet sharp words from the bright, cheerful Biretta.
“What did you just say?”
“I’m just speaking as Count Vécdelace’s lawyer. The reason you lost up to the second trial is because I wasn’t here. Now that the undefeated woman has arrived, victory is guaranteed.”
A woman with zero trials, zero victories, and zero defeats confidently pointed at Elena.
Elena clenched her fists in frustration but was stopped by her lawyer.
Her lawyer, a seasoned-looking man, smoothly persuaded her and led her to the courtroom.
The count, left behind, anxiously held onto Biretta’s arm.
“Biretta, what if we end up fighting with Elena?”
“Sir, a couple must show strength to each other. That’s the only way to earn trust and loyalty. Elena is such a person.”
“What do you know about Elena? Even at our wedding, only Dylan came.”
“You heard what kind of person she is yesterday.”
“I only got a five-minute explanation.”
Until just a moment ago, the count was tearful, but now he wore a reluctant expression.
He was curious about the boundless confidence of Biretta Medlidge. After losing two trials, what right did she have to be so self-assured, especially when victory seemed uncertain?
He felt sick trying to decide between “Does she really have faith in this?” and “Is she really just full of hot air like the rumors say?”
“A competent lawyer can see the whole picture just from hearing that much.”
“You’re not even a lawyer yourself.”
“Just saying. You shouldn’t always be so negative.”
“What… Ugh! My neck!”
The count’s blood pressure rose, and he staggered.
As he collapsed, the applause for Biretta, who had toppled the count without lifting a hand, echoed everywhere.
“Magnificent!”
“The best!”
“Impressive!”
Tragically, Biretta Medlidge was an ally of Count Vécdelace.
The trial began.
At the center of the large hall sat the judge, while the parties in the custody case casually approached the trial podiums on either side.
As the room filled, a man holding a thin, funnel-shaped stick raised his voice.
“The trial will now begin!”
He was the trial’s announcer, a presence meant to maximize the court’s dramatic effect.
Iola looked puzzled.
“Does a trial in Philian usually have an announcer?”
“Of course. A trial is a show.”
“Really? I thought trials were sacred arenas to judge right and wrong.”
“That used to be the case. But twenty years ago, after your father’s press conference, the atmosphere changed drastically.”
Cadlurn Medlidge, the second head of the Medlidge family, had altered the landscape with a press conference twenty years ago.
Dressed modestly yet stylishly, he gave a whirlwind interview, blaming the world rather than himself, stirring influential figures everywhere, and making his name a nationwide sensation for a month on the front pages.
Since then, the trial culture in Philian had changed. Civil trials with juries became stages where the side that could move the audience won.
“I am Cadlurn Medlidge’s second daughter. I am confident in my ability to dominate this trial.”
Biretta, always confident, knew she could not be defeated in showmanship. Having holed up in the estate for months, she had even secured the count’s support.
Standing tall and proud, Biretta was subtly questioned by Iola.
“But why didn’t you become a lawyer?”
Her question was calm and innocent—but it hurt.
Biretta gritted her teeth, frowning in discomfort.
“There are many reasons for someone like me to have various circumstances.”
In other words, she wasn’t smart enough to pass the bar exam.
Fortunately, Iola did not pry further. The announcer began introducing the trial participants.
“Blue corner! Our lord! The man who lost two trials and hid in his estate, Count Karl Vécdelace!”
“Die!”
“Write your will and die immediately! Or work, choose work or death!”
“Work or die? Work or die?”
The audience jeered and scolded. The jeers were so sharp that they struck the count physically.
“The lawyers? None other than the Medlidge! Biretta Medlidge and her fiancé will represent him!”
“These are the people who toppled him!”
“It’s Medlidge’s daughter!”
“Knock him down once more!”
“You can do it!”
Biretta and Iola entered the courtroom amid thunderous applause. For the second time in two days, the pair had brought down the count three times—and they were allies of Count Vécdelace.
“Red corner! Rising from the bottom to this stage! Mrs. Elena Vécdelace, former Elena Elfried! And she brought her daughter!”
Elena raised her chin, lifted Lucy high once, then set her down.
Although the three-year-old child could not understand the situation, she walked along under her mother’s guidance.
Even if separated from her father, the mother’s resolve to raise her child well shone brightly. The outcome of this trial was eagerly anticipated.
The opposing party was current Elena Vécdelace, formerly Elena Elfried.
Biretta began analyzing Elena based on the limited information she had received from the count and Moslin.
Young Elena, like the count, had risen from the bottom to become a countess.
Elena Elfried was born in a rural village to a farming family. She had two older siblings and four younger siblings. With no parental support, she had to work together with her siblings to survive.
Determined to become a magician, Elena moved boldly to the magic city, working odd jobs to buy books slowly.
Despite the hardship, her desire to become a skilled magician never waned. Eventually, a prominent mage noticed her, offered sponsorship, and she formally trained as a magician.
It was around that time she met Moslin, asked for guidance, and expressed admiration.
According to Moslin, Elena might not become a great mage, but she was a diligent, ambitious young woman.
“So, contrary to what people say, her marriage to the count was probably a bit complicated.”
Moslin, familiar with both Elena and Biretta, made the comment, and Lanken’s eyes widened.
“Why? Marriage to the count is a fortunate match.”
“That’s precisely the problem.”
Although Biretta and Elena hadn’t known each other long, age allows people to quickly categorize personalities.
“Elena is similar to Biretta. She doesn’t welcome living in someone else’s shadow. Biretta is more extreme, but Elena is no ordinary person either.”
