raknovel 110. Prior suit
110. Prior suit
The study suddenly fell silent.
The candle flame flickered slightly, making a soft crackling sound.
Bermelt didn't move; he didn't even blink.
But Sinlai noticed that her father's right hand, which was resting on the table, had its index finger slightly bent at the knuckle.
That was Bermelt's subconscious reaction when he was angry, and only those who knew him well enough could perceive it.
Bermelt's voice trembled slightly with anger, "How did he die?"
"According to the Church of Light's preliminary investigation, it was... torture to death."
When Xinlai uttered the last four words, she deliberately paused, letting them fall into the silence one by one like pebbles.
Bermilt's fingers bent again.
"Tortured to death," he said, "in the dungeon, in my capital, on a serious criminal accused of treason."
His voice was still not loud, but each word was heavier than the last.
Xinlai lowered her head, feeling the air in the study growing increasingly thick, like the oppressive calm before a storm.
"Tell me everything you know."
Xinlai raised her head, her expression carefully calculated: three parts grief, three parts anger, three parts tension, and one just-right hesitation.
The image of a loyal minister who is completely open yet forced to maintain restraint in front of the monarch.
"Father, I went to the dungeon tonight to find out the progress of the trial in the case of the Marquis of Tanstin."
The Marquis of Tansteen had been in the dungeon for some time, and according to custom, the dungeon keeper should submit the results of the interrogation within ten days.
As a member of the royal family and the judge in the case of the Marquis of Tanstin, it is my duty to be concerned about this matter.
These are all facts.
He deliberately stated these irrefutable facts first to build credibility for what he would say next.
"However, when I arrived at the church, I found that something was wrong. There were twice as many guards at the dungeon entrance as usual, and everyone looked extremely grim."
"Lady Aleya herself was in the dungeon, and her expression..." Xinlai paused, "Father, I have never seen Lady Aleya show such an expression before."
Bermelt tapped his fingers lightly on the table.
"continue."
"When I entered the dungeon, I saw the body of the Marquis of Tansting."
Father, the sight... Marquis Tanstin's fingers were all broken, his ribs were broken in at least five places, and his body was covered with marks from branding irons.
Lady Alaya told me that, based on the shape and distribution of the wounds, this torment had been ongoing for the past seven days, and…
Xinlai's Adam's apple bobbed, as if suppressing some intense emotion.
"Moreover, the torturer was very professional. Every wound was precisely aimed at avoiding vital organs, not to kill him, but to keep him conscious and make him feel pain."
Bermilt's expression remained unchanged, but the angle of his right index finger bent even more.
"Your subject dares to ask Lady Alaya, who did it?"
Lady Alaya said that since Marquis Tanstin was moved to the dungeon, apart from a few of us princes who have been inside…”
Xinlai stopped. His eyes flickered slightly, as if he was hesitating whether to continue.
"Who else?" Bermilt's voice finally took on a sharp edge.
"Simondo." Sinley's voice softened, as if uttering the name itself carried a certain danger.
"Lord Simondo stood guard in front of the cell, holding the interrogation warrant signed by Simeon."
Sure enough, Bermilt's expression changed.
"Him..." When he uttered the name, his tone carried the calmness of a hunter confirming the location of his prey.
"Lady Alaya also told me something else," Xinlai continued.
"This afternoon, shortly after the Marquis of Tanstin's body was discovered, Simeon's men arrived at the church. They weren't there to find out what happened, but to..." He paused again, "to demand accountability."
"Accountability?"
"Yes, Father. His Highness the Crown Prince's men questioned Lady Alaya about why Marquis Tanstin died in the church dungeon. Their words were very harsh, and it seemed... it seemed to imply that the responsibility lay with the church."
As Xinlai finished speaking, she lowered her head slightly, as if she were carefully considering her words, or perhaps gathering courage for what she was about to say.
"Father, there is something I do not understand. Lord Simondo, holding the interrogation warrant from Simeon, has been interrogating Marquis Tanstin continuously until yesterday."
Marquis Tanstin was found dead in the dungeon today. Lady Alaya only learned of this today; the Church was previously unaware of Simondo's interrogation methods.
However, when news of Marquis Tanstin's death spread, the first to arrive at the church to demand an explanation were not those sent by Your Majesty, but those of Simeon. Isn't the timing... too coincidental?
Silence fell again in the study.
This silence was longer and heavier than before.
Bermelt looked at Sinlai, who kept his head down, not daring to meet his father's gaze. But out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of his father's right hand—the index finger was no longer bent, but rested flat on the table, tapping lightly.
Once, twice, three times.
Then Bermilt spoke.
"Send word to Simeon."
His voice wasn't loud, but the servant standing outside the door clearly heard it, and his footsteps quickly faded away.
Xinlai remained kneeling on the ground, motionless. His heart was pounding, but his face showed no sign of distress.
He silently counted the time in his mind; it would take about 15 minutes to go from the palace to the crown prince's residence and back.
After receiving the summons, Simeon needs to change clothes and prepare a car, a process that takes at least half an hour.
That half hour was enough for the father's anger to slowly fester as he waited.
However, Sinley's estimate was wrong.
The footsteps didn't start half an hour later, but less than fifteen minutes after Bermelt gave the order.
It wasn't the sound of one person's footsteps, but those of two: one heavy and hurried, belonging to a palace attendant; the other light and steady, with a certain unhurried rhythm, clearly Simeon's footsteps.
Xinlai's heart sank.
The study door was pushed open.
Simeon stood outside the door.
He was dressed in a dark gray formal suit with the royal gold lion emblem pinned to his collar, and his hair was neatly combed back, revealing his full, smooth forehead.
Behind him stood a palace attendant, who wore an embarrassed expression. It was clear that Simien had not been summoned, but had come on his own.
He was already in the palace before his attendants found him.
"Father." Simien bowed respectfully, then his gaze fell on Xinlai kneeling on the ground, and the corners of his mouth curved slightly.
The curve was so shallow that if Xinlai hadn't known him well enough, she wouldn't have noticed it at all.
But Xinlai noticed it. That arc contained so much information: surprise, understanding, and a barely perceptible hint of appreciation.
It's as if to say: Not bad, you're faster than I expected.
"Simien," Bermelt's voice was devoid of emotion, "you've come at the right time. I was just looking for you."