The Low-Ranking Civil Servant Wants to Achieve Success-Chapter 25

In the end, the guard nodded and started running off quickly.

Seeing that ridiculous sight, Fron snickered as she watched his retreating back.

"Uhihihi, look at him clutching his sword while running! What a spectacle!"

After sending the guard away, Namia once again buried her face on the ground.

Fron looked at Namia, who was lying completely flat, and waved her hand.

"Hey, it’s fine. You can get up now."

Fron rolled onto her side and said lazily,

"This really doesn’t even hurt as much as a mosquito bite, so stop making a fuss. It’s annoying."

"But it’s still true that I dared to injure a member of the royal family."

"You said it was an accident. Just let it go."

But Namia didn’t get up. Instead, words poured nonstop from her small lips.

"But as I mentioned earlier, according to Royal Family Law, Article 1, Clause 4—"

"Ah, what the hell are you talking about. I don’t know anything about that crap. Just let it go."

"I cannot just let it go. Royals are far too precious for that."

"Hey, am I even a Dragonblood? I’m just an ordinary human with a bit of muscle, and you’re making a huge fuss over nothing..."

Fron was yawning with her mouth wide open when Namia lifted her head.

Their gazes met through the iron bars: Namia still prone, Fron reclining sideways.

'What the.'

Fron was startled by Namia’s eyes.

'Why are they shining like that?'

Even though Fron had lived rough as a mercenary, she instinctively felt it.

Her body, seasoned by countless battles, sensed it first.

This woman wasn’t cowed at all—on the contrary, she was confident.

Fron’s expression grew serious too.

'She’s not someone who uses her body... but definitely...'

When she was a mercenary, she had occasionally encountered people like this.

Those who lived hiding their true selves.

'In other words, people so sure of their ability that it didn’t matter if their identity was exposed.'

They were the kind she had always respected most.

No longer wearing a vacant expression, Namia spoke again.

"Please, Your Majesty, forgive me for injuring a member of the royal family."

"Are you gonna keep flapping your mouth and annoying me? That's—"

"In exchange."

Namia smiled sweetly.

"I’ll solve Your Majesty’s difficult problem."

"...Huh?"

Fron blinked blankly, then asked in disbelief.

"Do you even know what my problem is?"

"I can make a rough guess."

Namia answered with full confidence.

"I’ll make it so you can clear your name at tomorrow’s trial."

It was truly absurd.

"What the hell are you saying? Clear my name? How would you know?"

Fron laughed dryly, picking at her ear.

"And I already told you—no matter what, I absolutely, absolutely, absolutely will not say why I had those poisons!"

"Yes, whatever the reason is, you absolutely, absolutely, absolutely don’t have to say it."

"How the hell is that supposed to work?"

"It’ll work."

Namia met Fron’s gaze, her voice gentle but firm.

The frightened tone from earlier was completely gone—her face was calm, almost brazen.

"I’ll [N O V E L I G H T] make it work."

In the dim prison, Fron and Namia’s eyes clashed fiercely.

***

The next day.

Kiaros pressed his tired eyes.

His mind was so tangled that it felt like a headache was imminent.

But he had to attend the urgently convened Imperial Trial.

'Her Majesty the Empress and poison...'

According to the Minister of Justice, Fron had kept her mouth shut the entire time.

And as soon as Fron was arrested, Kiaros had sent a letter to the Emperor in the west.

Telling him to come immediately to the capital.

He knew the Emperor was recuperating, but there was no other choice.

'I can more or less guess what's going on, but Her Majesty the Empress won’t tell me the truth either. She won’t want to burden the Imperial Family.'

Kiaros had already decided what he would do. He planned to stall, citing a lack of concrete evidence.

Once the Emperor arrived, he would hand the interrogation over to him.

'That’s the best I can do.'

Of course, even stalling was going to be difficult.

Thus, even though it wasn’t a method he liked, he would have to crush the proceedings with sheer authority.

'I'll have to brace for the backlash of a royal interfering too much in what’s supposed to be a fair trial...'

And if his guess was right, the aftermath would be even more of a headache.

'Even if His Majesty comes, Her Majesty the Empress will die before she ever reveals why she sought poisons.'

In any case, everything had gone into emergency mode because of Fron. That was why he hadn't summoned Namia Roafi either.

It wasn’t an urgent matter, so he planned to ask her about it after the trial.

'Speaking of which, I did get a weird report.'

He had already ordered all involved to "absolutely prevent Her Majesty from committing suicide."

But...

'Apparently, Namia Roafi, who had gone to check the inventory of illumination scrolls, used an attack scroll on Her Majesty the Empress.'

Namia Roafi’s name had come up again.

Still, it wasn’t a problem worth fussing over.

An emergency team official had reportedly sprinted over immediately to check the situation. According to the physician, everything was fine and there were no issues.

'I had already signed off on her leaving work... so why did she come back crying and then go check the prison’s inventory?'

It was her job to check the illumination scrolls, but it was still a little odd.

However, Kiaros forcibly pushed thoughts of her aside.

The trial was imminent.

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'Anyway, I have to hold out as long as I can.'

With a grim face, he stepped into the courtroom.

Imperial Trials were open for nobles to observe if they applied in advance.

The courtroom was packed. Far more crowded than during normal trials.

'Haa... More people than expected.'

His headache worsened.

A large audience was not a good thing for an Empress like Fron, who lacked refinement.

'If Her Majesty the Empress opens her mouth, public opinion will only get worse.'

The audience didn’t render judgments, of course. But when handing down a verdict, it was impossible not to be conscious of public sentiment.

Kiaros silently prayed that Fron wouldn’t yell something like "If you’re suspicious of me, just kill me, you bastards!"

"His Highness the Crown Prince enters!"

At Kiaros’s arrival, everyone inside the courtroom stood and bowed their heads.

Even Fron, sitting in the defendant’s seat at the front, rose to her feet.

'Ah.'

Kiaros’s expression darkened even more when he saw Fron.

He had thought that maybe, after being imprisoned for a day, she might at least look pitiful enough to garner some sympathy.

'But she doesn’t look pitiful at all...'

Those who had stood up for courtesy now sat down again.

Fron also sat back down—and slumped lazily in her chair, yawning widely in her frilly dress.

Truthfully, the frilly dress with ribbons looked absolutely terrible on her muscular body.

But ever since taking the seat of Empress, she had forcibly worn dresses.

'Her complexion’s great too. No sign of remorse or anxiety at all.'

He had expected it, but seeing it firsthand was even more disheartening.

No matter how much he tried to steer the verdict toward leniency, the backlash would be huge.

Kiaros was someone who naturally commanded authority.

Controlling the courtroom was not difficult for him. Still, he had wanted to set aside authority before the law, at least.

But Fron—Fron wasn’t good at using her head.

'I’m not even sure if she knows proper courtroom procedure...'

He just hoped she wouldn’t say anything outrageously mistimed and make things worse.

As he walked to his seat and sat down—

'Hmm?'

At the very back of the courtroom, sitting modestly on the edge, he spotted a familiar flash of silver hair.

That demure woman sitting there was unmistakably—

Kiaros frowned without realizing it.

'Namia Roafi?'