She raises a hand to her mouth in surprise. “Murder ? And they just let her share a room with us?”
(She spent the entire time manacled and fettered, to be clear, that wasn’t added just for the courtroom.)
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Drakor shrugged. “I don’t know about you, but I know I wasn’t involved in her brother’s death. Why would I have anything to worry about?”
She makes a dismissive hand-gesture. “You can’t trust people like that.”
Meanwhile, over in Room #3, Nyna is called into the courtroom alone. (Unlike Kamilla, she is not restrained.)
Wanderer chose to come off as composed. He was in the same room as the aggrieved party, and he knows that Nyna very much would like things to go a certain way, but he does not believe that this story ending with ‘Kamilla is executed’ is the good ending.
No.
He thinks of Arius speaking up for Kamilla.
He thinks of Sten, fighting a seemingly pointless fight for family.
He thinks of how Kamilla didn’t leave immediately when she had the chance, instead choosing to stay with family despite having a complete exit plan.
It all parses as so illogical.
In the monastery, everyone was dedicated to the whole. There were disagreements, but people did not exist at odds.
Brevoy is strange.
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The guy in Room #4 seems completely uninterested in the ongoing case. He just wants to complain about his own hearing being slightly delayed, even though he’s sure he’s going to win. To hear him tell it, it’s apparently some kind of complicated inheritance dispute between him and two of his siblings — civil rather than criminal, but from how agitated he’s getting, it’s clearly very important to him.
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Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
She’d probably be thinking about something smarter if her room was more quiet.
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A couple minutes after Nyna’s departure, she is escorted back to the small room, and the person who escorted her, one of the militia members you met yesterday, says “Wanderer? The magistrate commands your testimony.”
“…don’t know what he was thinking, he can’t possibly have believed that was actually what our parents put in the will…”
Drakor snorted. “It’s not a matter of trust. People like her, they have a very black and white sense of who their enemies are.”
He yawned. “Besides, she doesn’t have any weapons.”
minor retcon: Savil is also in Room #4
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“Well, if you want to spend time around her, that’s your prerogative.”
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“Of course.”
He obliges.
The courtroom is a long, narrow room. Although it is less ostentatious than the baron’s daughter’s drawing room, there are still some adornments — the furniture is made of expensive imported mahogany, and there are a few portraits hanging on the walls.
The magistrate, wearing a long formal coat with elaborate buttons and a badge of insignia representing his rank, sits at an elevated table at one end of the room. Standing on one side of him is a man in a slightly less fancy version of the same vestments the dwarven banker on the temple level was wearing; at his other side, a woman is sitting in front of a thick leather-bound book, open to a page half-filled with writing. The militia member has apparently been commandeered as something resembling a guard.
The magistrate looks at you with a severe expression. “Do you understand that perjury is a grave offense against the laws of Brevoy, and that your testimony may be verified by truth spell?”
“Yes.”
Where there was uncertainty before, there is now resolve.
“As the stars see you, do you swear that you shall speak the truth and conceal nothing from this court, allowing neither personal gain nor friendship nor kinship nor any other consideration to sway you from honesty, as though you were testifying before Pharasma herself?”
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“I do.”
Speaking as if he’s actively being judged by Pharasma…
He thinks.
Maybe he has been doing this ever since he made it to Brevoy.
Is that a way to live?
Oh well, there’s a trial in front of my eyes that I need to focus on.
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“Very good. Tell me what you know of the death of Martyn Kaver.”
(The woman with the book is diligently writing in it as various people speak.)
Drakor shrugged again, but did not reply.