The lawyer massaged his temples. So far, the court was not in his favour. His client looked terrified, his eyes shut, as the judge listened intently to the words of the opposition, words that denounced the innocence of a guiltless man. Words that he could not let by.

"Objection your honor."

His opposition looked amused. The judge raised an eyebrow.

"I yield the floor to Mr Longinus." The opposition sat, smugly. That expression was starting to seriously piss off Harold. Stepping away from his desk, he made a round of the court, speaking clearly all the while.

"Miss Cardsworth, am I right in assuming that the defendant had witnessed the murder of his mother, at the hands of my client, Mr Holden?"

"That is correct." Miss Cardsworth said tartly, "We have the autopsies to prove it alongside an additonal eyewitness."

Harold nodded along, each step reverberating .

"May I see the autopsy?"

"You most certainly can."

Cardsworth's attendant opened a file, and handed it to Harold. He examined it, leafing through each page, labouring over every sentence. He found what he was looking for. Snapping the file shut, he returned it, and drummed his fingers against his desk.

"The autopsy states that the method of death was strangulation. It was a prolonged struggle, in which the unfortunately deceased had to suffer for several minutes." Harold picked up the hands of his client. "The autopsy also states that the ring finger of the left hand imprint clearly showed a larger than standard bruising."

"What of it?"

"The murderer wore a ring, on his left hand."

Harold displayed his defendant's hand for the judge.

"Mr Holden, are you married, or have a married past?"

"N-no, Sir."

"Have you ever worn a ring on your left hand?"

"Never, Sir."

"That's ludicrous, you cannot base your argument upon that." Miss Cardsworth's eye twitched. Good. She was getting a little heated.

"Your client is a married man-"

"We have another eyewitness who saw the act being performed."

"True, but you cannot gloss over-"

The doors opened. A nearby guard stopped a messenger boy in his tracks, and the crowd tumulted. The boy cowered under their outcries.

"What is the meaning of this young man?" the Judge asked.

"A message, for a Harold Longinus, your Honor." squeaked the boy.

Harold took a sealed envelope from him, tipping him a silver. The lad scampered away. Opening it quickly, he gave the contents a quick glance, and suppressed laughter.

"What's so funny, Harold?" the Judge was unamused by his antics. Harold waved it away, apologised, and pocketed the letter.

"It's not relevant to the case, your Honor." Harold calmed himself, "As I was saying, you cannot gloss over such a detail. However, could you present the eyewitness you describe, Miss Cardsworth."

She whispered a few words to her attendant, who left the court. A few moments later, he returned with a considerably young girl, eyes wide as saucers. She took a seat at the forefront, a position she was clearly disliking.

"Don't you worry, young lady, I only have a few questions to ask, and it'll all be over, okay?" Harold crouched to her level. "Is that alright?"

She nodded in response.

"Alright then. So, what's your name?"

"Lyra."

"Nice to meet you, Lyra. Could you tell me, what you saw on the night of the 23rd of August?"

She shuffled her feet, and spoke in a low tone. Harold withheld anger, he had been in this business long enough to know when something was scripted. To drill it into a child was pathetic.

"A man broke into our house. Grandma tried to run away but the man attacked her." she struggled to hold back tears, "I was underneath the table, but I could see everything. It was very scary. My dad walked in, but the man had already run away."

"How long did the fight last?"

"A few minutes."

"And did your grandma make a lot of noise?"

Lyra paused, and cast an eye towards Miss Cardsworth, who maintained a neutral face.

"Yeah, she did."

"And where was your father during all this?"

"He was downstairs, I think."

"And he didn't hear anything? During all those minutes?"

Lyra hesitated, and let out a soft, "No."

"I'm content, your Honor."

The Judge beckoned for Cardsworth's attendant, who took Lyra away. Harold stood before the Judge, hands behind his back.

"Your Honor, I put forward the statement that my client is innocent, and that the murder was in fact perpetrated by the accusant, Mr Tennese." Harold walked back, and withdrew papers. "Mr Tennese wears a ring on the ring finger of his left hand, as a result of a current marriage with a Mrs Tennese. The family has since fallen on hard times due to Mr Tennese being laid off by the mining company he previously worked at. His mother had formally acknowledged that her son would be the sole heir to the modest wealth she owned, at a sum of two thousand pounds. I believe that Mr Tennese murdered his mother, and has pinned the blame upon my client, who is a recently released prisoner, as a scapegoat."

Harold stood to a mixed reaction. The Judge slammed his hammer multiple times, but the noise did not diminish. Finally, guards were called to restrain the room, and they stood vigilance as the Judge came to a verdict. Miss Cardsworth shot daggers with her eyes, and the atmosphere changed from smug to glum.

"This case is sustained, both sides have presented admirable evidence, but a decsision cannot be reached as of now." he used his gavel twice. "The case will be reopened a week from today, make sure to come prepared."

Harold stormed silently out of the room, maintaining a civil desposition to Miss Cardsworth, who had the smug look wiped off her face, but even that brought no joy to the lawyer. He was tapped on the shoulder, and turning, Mr Holden embraced him.

"You did good." He shook Harold's hand fervently, "I wasn't so sure when I saw your low, low prices, but I'm glad I chose you."

The lawyer blushed.

"Well, I'm not looking for money, just the experience." Harold lied. He was in it for justice. As he parted ways with Mr Holden, who looked a lot happier, the lawyer took the letter out again.

To Harry

I'm in a spot of trouble, mind covering my arse?

- Le Prince

"Oh Fred, welcome home pal."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fast asleep, Lily lay in a fetal position, shoes abandoned and drool falling donw her dignigied chin. Her ever vigilant guards stood watch nearby, deterring any lecherous man from approaching, not that many found the courage to challenge the armor-clad warriors. The party had turned from a dignified ball, to rowdy fun, and then to a tier above anarchy. Even the musicians could not deter the lure of booze, and they half heartedly blew trumpets and scratched violins to mirthless tunes. King Justus felt a rise of nauseau flood him. Twice he had hurried to the bathroom already, and it appeared that a third was oncoming. He had not felt this way since his younger days, and as an old man, he was feeling the strain. He dismayed as a priceless work of art was used as a board for a game of hopscotch, but words failed to come out of his mouth. The sweltering interior did not help in any way.

Guard Commander Adolf and his contingent went to work opening any windows they could find, the cooler winds of the night merging to create a myriad of lukewarm air. The kitchen staff, without anymore reasonable orders other than wine, were enlisted to help the most lost of party guests, and one team heaved with a monstrously fat man, huffing and puffing all the while. What guests remained somewhat sober, and there were very few of them, busied themselves with idle chat and conversation, whilst their eyes swiveled to catch every piece of indignity, to be regurgitated at teatime gossip tomorrow afternoon.

Justus's knees began to cramp, and he was caught just in time by Adolf, who leaned in to the King's ear.

"Should we dismiss the party, Sir?"

Justus waved a hand in response, lowering himself next to Lily. Her guards monitored him carefully. Adolf, despite being a good foot smaller than the two, looked at them defiantly.

"Your Majesty is no pervert, gentlemen, I'd like to remind you of that." he about-turned smartly, and marched off, to the incredulous guards.

"Freddie..." uttered Lily, drool continuing to stream.

"You've got to get over him, girl." Justus felt bad for her. His son was a romantic fool, he would do no woman a favour. Speaking of, where was his son? Observing a mantelpiece, the time read 1am. His men had reported that the ship carrying Frederick's entourage had touched down at 5pm, and he had last been spotted at the Twofold bank at 6.

"I thought the Military prided themselves on tardiness." muttered Justus, picking clean his untouched plate of grapes.

The front doors almost exploded open. In the moonlit frame, stood a most peculiar sight, a well-dressed beggar along with two other similar figures, a sour woman, and Erwin? His Royal Guard blocked their entrance almost immediately, Adolf asking for identification. Wait, no that was no beggar. That was his son. The sound of the commotion awoke a few guests, who shook the next into life as they realised who had so rudely barged in, late to the party. In hushed tones, they spoke of his appearance, his comrades, and lastly, in a more frivolous tone, of another succesor.

The goddess next to Justus rubbed her eyes wearily, scrunching up her face at she sensitively adjusted to the light. Why was it so cold? The door's open? A hearbeat. A mirage. There was no way. She picked herself up, mouth slightly agape. First one step, then the next, until barefoot, she padded her way over to Frederick. At a few feet away, the Prince realised the new assailant, and could only manage a brief yell before she launched herself into his arms. Frederick was thrown back, but steadied himself. Lily's eyes teared up, as she rested her chin on chest, looking up at her beloved, positively glittering in the moon's gaze.

"Did you miss me, Freddie?"