NOVPUBThe investigation into the Varnaz family—particularly William—was overseen by the king himself, with the assistance of Llyold, his trusted right-hand man.
They uncovered numerous secret letters filled with coded messages, which were successfully deciphered under Claude's lead. Much of the evidence pointed directly to William.
Despite this, House Varnaz denied any involvement, claiming ignorance of William's actions. In response, Claude ordered one of the family elders to be brought in for questioning.
However, instead of an elder, a man around William's age arrived—his demeanor softer, his face friendlier.
He had the same striking crimson eyes as William, though his hair was brown. Regardless, the resemblance was undeniable.
"So, the rumor about the Varnaz family all sharing the same face is true?" Claude remarked, seated comfortably in a plush chair, with Llyold standing at his side.
The man chuckled. "Greetings, Your Majesty. I am Emmet Varnaz, William's brother," he said with a polite bow.
"My father has fallen ill from the news about William and was unable to attend. So, I've come in his place," he continued.
"And to answer your question—yes, we often resemble each other. Our house has a long tradition of marrying within the family—sisters or cousins—to preserve the purity of our bloodline."
"I see," Claude murmured. "Then let's get to the point."
He handed Emmet a partially burned letter, its contents revealed only in fragments. It was a reply from an anonymous sender, boasting that they had successfully altered the contents of imported crops, replacing them with hog feed.
"We found this in your brother's office," Claude said. "It uses the cipher your house is known for, doesn't it?"
Each noble house had its own system of codes and methods to decipher them, especially for sensitive documents.
The Varnaz cipher, however, was notoriously intricate—often relying on wordplay. One line read, for instance:
"Switch Mrs. Belé Vaget with Mrs. Fedge Ho dress at dawn."
It was an anagram.
Emmet read the letter in silence, his expression gradually tightening. Finally, he sighed. "You are correct, Your Majesty. This is our code."
"But just as you were able to crack it," he added, "so could anyone else. This could easily be a setup meant to slander my brother."
"He has been loyal to you for nearly a year, Your Majesty. Our house has served Lord Donovan faithfully for generations—and the lords before him…"
Emmet's expression faltered, as if he himself had been betrayed.
"Why would my brother want to lead a rebellion?"
Claude nodded, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. "I wonder that myself. What about you, Emmet? Do you know why your brother might want to take my place?"
"Is it perhaps because he believes the throne should have been his all along? After all, it remained empty for a long time."
Claude studied Emmet closely, searching his face for a reaction. But Emmet only sighed.
"Your Majesty, I know little of politics," he said wearily.
"As you're aware, I've withdrawn from court affairs for some time now—that's why you haven't seen me at any council meetings."
"Perhaps you're right. Since the fall of Lord Donovan, our house has taken a more prominent role at court. But that's all," he said, shaking his head. "We do not wish to usurp your rule, Your Majesty."
"But... as you say, perhaps my brother did entertain such ambitions. He has always been the ambitious one."
Claude's lips twitched, the corner of his mouth curving upward. "Yes. That may just be it."
Then his tone sharpened. "And what about you, Emmet? Don't you share that ambition?"
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Llyold told me you were very active in the council—leading discussions, even drafting policies."
"Wasn't that foolish tax on commoners your idea?" Claude tilted his head, voice edged with mockery. "Did you enjoy playing ruler?"
Emmet's eyes widened in shock, and he quickly shook his head. "No—of course not, Your Majesty!"
"That policy was meant to help build a war chest. Our priorities back then were survival and defense, nothing more."
"And I had no such thoughts of usurping anything, especially not with a frail body like mine. That's exactly why I stepped down from the council."
He coughed weakly, prompting Claude to frown, suspecting the gesture was exaggerated.
"But… isn't this interrogation about my brother?" Emmet asked, glancing up with a strained smile. "Why are you turning your questions on me?"
"Because William is still part of House Varnaz," Claude replied coldly. "Your house bears the weight of his actions."
"And a rebellion requires more than one man. It needs accomplices. It's not far-fetched to imagine you could be one of them."
"Still, you don't need to worry—your alibi is clean, and frankly, I doubt someone like you could pull off something this elaborate."
Emmet blinked. "What do you mean, Your Majesty?"
Claude leaned back with a cold chuckle. "You said it yourself—you're weak and sick. I also heard all your sons died of the same mysterious illness."
He tilted his head. "Strange, isn't it? For a race like ours—daemons—to fall ill at all."
"You're like a defective product," he added with a smirk.
Emmet's smile faltered—but only for a moment. Then he forced it back onto his face, though his eyes were hollow.
"You're right, Your Majesty," he said quietly. 𝚗ovp𝚞b.𝚌om
"Someone like me would never be capable of something like that."
They continued for a while longer, Claude presenting more evidence while Emmet offered vague and evasive answers.
The king had to resist the urge to roll his eyes—how theatrical this man was.
At last, the interrogation came to an end. Emmet stood and gave a courteous bow.
"If you'll excuse me, Your Majesty," he said.
But before he reached the door, he paused, glancing back over his shoulder.
"I'm certain we'll meet again soon," he said with a faint smile.
"And when we do, I hope it won't be like this—hostile and one-sided. Perhaps then we can speak as equals."
With that, he left the room.
Llyold, who had remained standing beside Claude the entire time, let out a quiet sigh. "You were too harsh on him, Your Majesty. That man has known nothing but misery since his youth."
Claude scoffed and leaned back in his chair. "And? You think that rules him out as a suspect?"
He stood and stretched his shoulders before continuing, "You're the head of your family, Llyold. You've seen all kinds of players on the political battlefield."
'But the ones who hide their intentions behind soft smiles and gentle words—those are the most dangerous."
"I agree," Llyold said, falling into step behind him.
"And his answers were vague at best. He always seemed to steer the conversation away from anything concrete."
"Exactly," Claude muttered.
Llyold nodded thoughtfully. "His ability to deflect and redirect—his negotiation instincts—he could've been a powerful ally."
Claude gave a dry chuckle. "Yes. It's a shame he chose the other side."
He finally stepped into the corridor, his expression grim but resolute. Judgment day for William Varnaz was drawing near—and Claude would be ready.
***
The grand hall of the court was filled with a tense atmosphere as Claude, seated on his elevated throne, surveyed the room.
The assembly of nobles, guards, and advisors could be seen fulfilled all the chairs.
William Varnaz, standing before him, looked every bit the nobleman, though his posture was stiff and still hold his composure.
While on the other side was Shan, standing up in witness section.
Claude rose, his voice cutting through the silence. "Today, we gather to address the treasonous actions committed under the name of House Varnaz."
"The evidence is overwhelming, and yet, despite this, the accused continues to remain silent on the charges."
He turned to the scrolls and documents laid out before him, the whispers of the court growing louder as he began to read aloud.
"Letters intercepted from your office, reveal not only coded messages but also the manipulation of resources, the scheming that sought to undermine my rule," Claude said, pointing to the parchment in front of him and showing all the evident he found that all lead to William.
William stood still, his jaw clenched tightly, but he didn't speak. His silence was deafening. Claude's gaze sharpened.
"Do you deny these actions, Lord William?" he asked, leaning forward.
After a long, suffocating pause, William's voice, when it finally came, was steady but cold. "I neither deny nor accept these accusations," he said quietly.
"The evidence presented is circumstantial at best. I have not been given the opportunity to prove my innocence. Nor have I seen the full extent of your so-called evidence."
Claude's eyes narrowed. "You've had every chance to defend yourself, William. You've been given all the time you needed, but your response has been nothing but vague claims and empty words."
William's face remained impassive. He didn't dare look at the nobles surrounding him, but his body stiffened as Claude continued.
"This court will not tolerate deceit. You have manipulated, deceived, and played the part of a traitor. But the truth, as we all know, cannot remain hidden forever."
Claude motioned for a servant to bring forth a large, ornate box, and as it was placed on the table, he opened it to reveal a shimmering crystal orb. The court was silent as Claude's voice echoed once more.
"A witness, recorded by this crystal, will show the truth. The real mastermind behind the plot." His eyes locked on William. "You will see who it was."
