334 Zugzwang
"-and so he stands accused of assaulting me!"
The final word of the accusatory statement echoed around the chamber, bouncing from the granite dome onto a floor layout much like that of the Sanctum's courtrooms - a platform jutting out of the wall for the judge overlooking two seating areas with pulpits at their fore and a large circular dais placed squarely in the center of the room. It was missing certain key elements like jury stands behind the pulpits, however it appeared much 'nicer' in turn.
The pulpits and dais were each made of black, white, and gray marble polished to an exquisite sheen, the seams between blocks sealed with lines of silver and bronze, replacing the boring gray stone and wood of the Sanctum. The seating area of the black pulpit - which belonged to the accused - was furnished in red and blue while its opposite sported fabrics of yellow and green. The judge's platform had been constructed of the same granite as the dome and walls minus the embedded split crystals used to keep the room lit. There existed a few rooms recessed into the walls at certain points along the circumference of the room, their openings covered by a single sheet of thin fabric of a similar shade to the surrounding walls. The occupants of those rooms could see through the fabric thanks to a lack of light from the inside and their closer proximity to the fabric, but those on display would not be able to see in. Still, the picture wasn't perfect, which is why there was so much of a color contrast between the pulpits.
Or so Len had been told.
In truth he was not given the opportunity to go for a tour of the facilities and see the layout in more depth, only given the briefest of explanations by the lawyer standing at his representative pulpit on his way from . Apparently the jury was in one of those very rooms - or perhaps spread across many - silently observing the proceedings to make their judgement, but nobody aside from the judge and the few staff responsible for escorting the guests to their seats. Len understood it as both a bid to prevent the bickering parties from making a material appeal to them and as a way to ensure they would be safe from retaliation in the case they voted against an influential individual.
"What say the defense?"
Len frowned. Even if there wasn't a similar fabric covering the judge's box, he still couldn't see who was overseeing the trial. The Emperor probably wouldn't oversee something of this scale, less because it was beneath his status to handle and more because he had more important things to attend to, but he was curious about what type of person would be entrusted to this matter. In the Sanctum this was the duty of a dedicated justice, someone well versed and studied in the law of the Sanctum, however no such position existed in the Bulsarzian Empire. These sort of conflicts between nobles were simply too rare.
Most squabbles happened within the same dominion, and were subsequently resolved by the lowest dominion with authority over both parties. Small matters between people with the Emperor as their lowest common liege were usually resolved in private or with some mediation by an imperial minister to avoid drawing unwanted attention. Larger, more serious disputes tended to be resolved with input and oversight from the Emperor to save face - otherwise they devolved into some other form of conflict. The truth of the matter was that losing a battle in court was the ultimate disgrace for a nobleman, a stain on their reputation they could never seek to remedy as it was a decision backed by Imperial authority. Even if they had a good case, the potential of a loss was enough to dissuade bringing a case forward.
As a result, there wasn't much need for a full-time justice, so administrative officials familiar with the violated law were placed in charge of these cases. In a vacuum this might dispel Len's curiosity as to the type of person assigned to oversee this case, Len had seen many such officials as the son of a general, but it was exactly that experience that inspired curiosity. Despite his personal distaste for the class, Len knew them as anything but a monolith.
"The defense believes this to be a baseless accusation, your honor."
"What a pain." The whisper was almost certainly meant to be a private utterance, the excellent acoustics making them just barely audible. Either way, it seemed the judge belonged to the 'diligent but miserable' variety, dispelling Len's curiosity. There wasn't much he could do to get on his good side apart from recognizing the rules and following "Very well. Len Kerr, please stand before the court and recount the events as you experienced them."
"Yes sir." Len stood up and headed towards the gate for the floor, taking the nod from his lawyer on the pulpit as a sign of confidence. Despite this morsel of moral support, Len felt himself sweating as he walked. He could feel the gazes of people hidden behind taught textile sizing him up, gauging his stature and how he held himself. Not among that number was Rishtahn, not because he wasn't watching Len but because he was snickering alongside a few of the other people in his booth. Evidently his opponent did not see him as a threat.
"I-if I may be so rude to ask . . ." Len held his tongue until he was in the center of the platform, sitting on both knees as process dictated. ". . . how much information is the court seeking?"
"As much as you feel comfortable sharing. Don't throw anything unnecessary in there, but you should paint a coherent picture for the jury."
- - - - -
"Such are the events as I remember, your honor." Len maintained his rather uncomfortable posture despite having finished his deposition. As he was the accused his comfort was of little concern to the court, the large gap in status and limited social currency he possessed meant the smart decision was to maintain the expected decorum. Doing exactly as ordered and nothing more would vastly improve his chances, or so his lawyer claimed.
"Does the prosecution wish to examine the accused?" A lack of comment from the judge could be viewed as a good thing - he didn't make any mistakes in process - but it could also mean the judge wasn't particularly invested or paying attention to the details. Unfortunately Len had no way of knowing which was more likely, he couldn't even see the judge's face!
"We would like to take this opportunity."
"Very well."
"Thank you, your honor." One of the men beside Rishtahn, his lawyer, took to the pulpit, not that Len could see him. He was still facing the judge's platform.
"Mister Kerr, do you maintain your innocence despite your admission of guilt?" A trap, if an easy one. Donovan had warned him of this one, actually, if only as an example.
"I made no incriminating statement during my testimony." Fortunately, because it was given as an example of a trap he could repeat Donovan's words.
"That was not a response to the question I asked."
"The question you asked is inherently deceptive. I maintain my innocence, and I did not admit guilt."
"This is a simple yes or no question, Mister Kerr."
"Behave yourself, prosecution." Len allowed himself a silent sigh of relief. Donovan's biggest point of advice was to avoid agreeing with a false premise no matter what. Once you did there was little chance of escaping without harming your case. "I do not take kindly to those who waste my time with petty deceit."
"My apologies, your honor. It would appear the defendant is simply unaware of the details of his crime." A chill ran down Len's spine. This guy sounded as slimy as they come. "Do you sustain that you struck away the hand of the good Sir Rishtahn?"
"I do. As he was preparing to strike Lady Helmsguard, host of the event sponsored by the First Prince, I saw it fit to prevent such an incident from occurring."
"And are you aware that one of lower status physically harming one of higher status is a crime?"
"I am." Rejecting knowledge of this when the foundation of the case depended upon it would be silly.
"Are you then aware that one of low birth committing a crime against a noble of any status is a much greater offense? Particularly when that offense is of a physical nature?"
"I am aware, yes."
"Then I see fit to sustain my claim that you are guilty. Do you still maintain your innocence?"
"Objection, your honor." Len's lawyer spoke up.
"What is the nature of this contest?"
"The prosecution has failed to demonstrate substantive harm from the action. Raising one's arms to defend from a strike does not constitute assault!"
"Such a distinction is entirely dependent on the jury's discernment. The prosecution may continue." It wasn't a good answer, but it was far from the worst. Introducing doubt into the minds of the jury was good, though the extent of their sympathies to such an argument would be questionable at best.
"Thank you, your honor." The prosecuting lawyer cleared his throat. "As I was saying, there are much harsher punishments for one of low birth, up to and including death. Now, as a bureaucrat of unsubstantial roots, granted my status through merit of my abilities, I am quite sympathetic to your situation - even if I cannot condone the actions you have taken. I have spoken with the person I represent on this matter and, upon further discussion, came to something of an agreement with him for both our dignities as men and in recognition of the achievements of the man who adopted you."
"Is the prosecution offering a plea deal?"
"Yes. Should the defendant admit guilt on this matter, we are willing to accept a reduced sentence of five years house arrest and a certain sum of monetary reparations to be negotiated with the defendant's adopted father as opposed to the death penalty he is liable to receive should this case proceed normally. Would such an arrangement be acceptable to the prevailing authority?"
"Should the defense agree to the terms, the court will not contest the matter."
A sickening vertigo crept into Len's psyche. This was a power play, one Len didn't know how to approach and wasn't mentally prepared for. To begin with, this was an incredibly generous offer. Five years of house arrest was basically just five years confined to the planet of Slaphitori (nobody would care to check that he remained in his house) so for somebody with more introverted tendencies like Len it wasn't that much of a punishment. At the same time it would save his father's reputation - what little he still cared about - while painting Rishtahn as somebody with the grace to let inconsequential matters remain exactly that, inconsequential. Sure, such a concession on his part might come off as a sign of weakness, however it was also true that pushing for a death penalty could come off as unnecessarily cruel.
What made Len want to puke was how this zugzwang would affect him. Accepting the plea deal would mean he couldn't go to the academy anymore, and that he would have to forfeit his connections with the precious few friends he had. It would also forever pin him as guilty, making future defenses difficult and painting a larger target on his back than already existed.
Simultaneously, rejecting this plea deal would negatively affect his chances at being given an innocent verdict. It was entirely possible for some of the jury to see such resistance on his end as a sign of conviction and belief in his own innocence, a courageous image that could sway them to his side, but his knowledge of the average noble told him such a perspective would be rare. Many probably felt they had better things to do, seeing this trial to be a considerable waste of time in the face of parties and such. Needlessly prolonging their 'suffering' would not sit well with them, and their desire to get this over with quickly could mean a rushed vote in which they align against Len out of contempt.
Worse still, this pre-emptive leniency would sour the opinions of others once he revealed his 'relationship' to Donovan - foreign royalty. He will have 'deceived' the prosecution, slighting their honor and souring the opinion of the jury. After all, if Rishtahn was willing to be this lenient with an adopted peasant, would he have even raised a complaint if he knew Len's 'true' status? In the eyes of the judge, jury, and audience more generally, probably not. Such a view would further sour their view of him, having not just prolonged the duration they were here but made an issue out of this in the first place.
"May I seek counsel on this matter?" Len did not know what to do, simple as that. Try as he might to come up with an approach that wouldn't put him in a worse position, he simply wasn't familiar enough with courtroom proceedings and the dealings of noblemen to think of something that could work. He could only rely upon his lawyer, a supposed expert on these matters.
"Make it quick."
"Yes sir." Len stood up, thankful the pressure on his knees was finally relieved. There was limited padding on these clothes, so the hardness of the stone was felt in particular detail. That said, the smug grin coming from the opposing box made him just as uncomfortable as he was on the dais. Rishtahn knew he had Len in a bind. "What should I do, sir?"
"Are you innocent?" His lawyer returned a question in a hushed tone, wanting to keep the contents of this conversation from reaching the ears of the opposition.
"Yes." Of this Len had no doubt, in his mind he was innocent. The only issue was that he couldn't decide the outcome of this case. "I don't know if the jury will think so though."
"Then let me ask you another question." Len looked up at the man on the pulpit, a man only a few years older than his father. "Will you trust your mother?"
"What?" Len had not been expecting that. Had it been something about his abilities or the plan to deceive everyone by claiming a relationship to Donovan then he would have had an answer, but his mother? Why would she be relevant to this conversation? "What do you mean?"
"Madam Linarin, your mother. Do you trust her?" A serious face, this wasn't some cruel joke. "Being the brother of a foreign lord may spare you the worst, but the plea is still much lighter than what we can expect of a conviction. Will you trust her anyways?"
All Len could glean from this was that his mother had done something to help him out here, he just didn't know what. In all likelihood, his lawyer wasn't certain either. Still, he seemed adamant in his belief there was something they could do to get out of this bind. To that end, it wasn't like they were out of options. As bad as it might make him appear the 'relationship' with Donovan would raise their chances given Rishtahn had raised no objections to Len's story, particularly the portions describing his prepared assault against Diana. Of course he could always say he never intended to strike her, merely make aggressive gestures of dissatisfaction with her lack of 'grace', but given he had lost his case against Donovan quite soundly . . . there was still a good chance that a selection of 'honorable' jurors might side with him.
Where he was getting lost with his lawyer was where his mother factored into this.
"I will trust her." Just because he didn't know what his mother could have done to help him didn't mean he couldn't trust her. If anything, Len felt it would be weirder not to. She might have been cold towards him, callous even, but she never lied to him or did anything that would proactively bring him harm or stress. The extent of her damaging behavior was the distance she kept between him and the rest of the family, which he understood to something she did to protect the reputation of the family more generally. Did he like it? No, but he understood why she did it. Her priority had always been with the family she had chosen, not the child her husband brought home without her input.
It was this same priority that led Len to trust her.
If her aim was to protect the image of her family, then Len being proclaimed innocent was in her interests. Adopted though he may be, Len was still the son of her husband, and the product of their parentage. Should he have assaulted a 'higher noble' and had this crime confirmed in an imperial court, then their reputation would plummet. Only an innocent verdict could possibly resolve this mess.
"The defense rejects this plea deal, your honor."