The Sinful Young Master

Chapter 365: Laughingstock

”Authority you did not possess,” Richardus snapped.

”You had no imperial investiture.”

Jolthar did not flinch.

”The barony was under emergency stewardship.”

Cleora stepped forward, her voice precise.

”By writ of Lady Cleora, myself, widow of the late Baron.”

”The treasury was not seized,” Jolthar continued.

”It was placed under stewardship to prevent collapse. Funds were allocated openly, recorded, and spent on infrastructure that remains under baronial ownership.”

Jolthar was trying to get out of this lawfully, though he wanted to just smash their heads and get outta of here. He waited, still patiently watching them, for now.

Richardusʼs smile faded a fraction.

”And yet imperial taxes fell below expectation during this period.”

”Because the tax rate applied was the one approved by the Ministry itself,” Jolthar said.

”Based on projected output, not realized profit. No reassessment was issued.”

”A convenient oversight.”

”Your oversight,” Jolthar replied evenly.

”Not mine.”

Richardus leaned forward.

”Or you diverted collected taxes before they reached the Crown.”

”That is false,” Jolthar said flatly.

”Every assessed tithe was paid. Additional surplus was reinvested locally under emergency authority.”

”Then you will not object to a full audit,” Richardus said smoothly.

”All accounts. All lenders. All contracts.”

The trap was obvious.

”Audit is acceptable,” Jolthar replied, ”provided it is conducted by an independent tribunal and protects commercial agreements essential to ongoing revenue flow.”

”In other words,” Richardus said to the court, ”he wishes to shield information.”

”I wish to prevent economic sabotage,” Jolthar corrected.

The Justiciar struck the gavel once.

”Minister Richardus. Do you have evidence of a specific unlawful transfer?”

”I have testimony,” Richardus said.

Duke Hernais stepped forward, grief carefully measured. He was putting on a really good act in front of the people.

Jolthar narrowed his gaze on the man and the person responsible for the mess.

Cleora gritted her teeth, watching that man. She had only seen him a couple of times, and he didnʼt have a good bond with his late brother, yet here he was, saying that he was fighting for his brother.

”Calm down, Lady Cleora,” Akopa said.

Cleora turned to him.

”The boy is doing well, for someone under heavy scrutiny.”

Milan just watched; he didnʼt say anything. Even though the general and his uncle didnʼt acknowledge him. He had gotten used to such treatment from the imperial family.

”My brotherʼs private treasury was depleted before his death. Nearly forty thousand gold marks vanished. I believe Baron Kaezhlar redirected those funds.”

Jolthar turned his gaze to him, cold and steady.

Though he wondered, how in the hell did he get that information?

”I did not touch your brotherʼs private accounts. The funds in question were transferred from the baronial reserve under emergency writ.”

Hernais sneered.

”A distinction without meaning.”

”On the contrary,” Jolthar said.

”One is theft. The other is governance.”

Richardus seized the moment.

”You admit you acted without imperial confirmation.”

”I admit I acted without delay,” Jolthar replied.

”Because delay would have killed the province.”

He faced the magistrate.

”The forty thousand gold marks were not stolen. They were converted, into roads that now carry imperial trade, mines that now pay imperial tax, and infrastructure that will generate revenue for decades.”

Cleora unrolled another ledger. She brought them with her, as she was sure that people would question what they are doing with the barony.

”Under Baron Rothgard,” she said calmly, ”Tekkora paid three thousand gold marks annually. This year, provisional remittance has already reached fifteen thousand and is rising.”

Silence fell.

”In economic terms,” Jolthar said, ”the gold was not lost. It was mobilized. The Crown now profits fivefold from an asset that was previously dormant.”

Richardus exhaled slowly. He knew the numbers were turning against him.

”Very well,” he said coldly.

”Let us set aside the ledgers.”

The room stiffened.

”The barony required emergency stewardship because its lord was dead. And that death”—his gaze locked onto Jolthar—”is the true vacancy we must discuss.”

He turned to the justiciar.

”I formally move to escalate this hearing. The accused is not merely an overreaching steward. He is a man who benefited most from a nobleʼs sudden death.”

Hernaisʼs voice cracked on cue. ”He killed my brother to seize power.”

The gavel came down hard.

”Jolthar Kaezhlar,” the Judge said grimly, ”the Empire may tolerate bold accounting. It will not tolerate unlawful bloodshed. How do you answer the charge of murder?”

Jolthar met the courtʼs gaze, unbowed.

”By the law of the imperium,” he said, ”Rothgard was not murdered. He was removed for cause.”

The hall held its breath.

”And if the Empire wishes to punish me for saving a dying province,” Jolthar continued, ”then it must first decide whether it values procedure more than survival.”

Hernais recovered quickly, his sneer sharpening as he pointed a trembling finger at Jolthar.

”See how deftly he dances,” he said loudly, turning to the court.

”Words twisted. Numbers bent until they obeyed him. This is how he works, hiding crimes behind clever accounting and sharper tongues.

A swordsman playing scholar, overthrowing truth with theatrics.”

A few uneasy chuckles rippled through the hall.

Hernais pressed on, emboldened.

”He dazzles you so you forget the blood,” he said.

”Forget that a common killer now lectures the Empire on law and ledgers.”

Jolthar tilted his head, thoughtful.

Then he smiled.

”Duke Hernais,” he said mildly, ”if numbers are truly so easy to bend, I wonder how your brother managed to lose forty thousand gold marks without moving a single stone, feeding a single mouth, or paying a single soldier.”

The hall stilled.

Jolthar went on, voice calm, almost courteous.

”I turned gold into roads. You turned gold into absence. One of us must be the better illusionist.”

For half a heartbeat, silence reigned.

Then laughter broke out, first restrained, then spreading, impossible to contain. Even some scribes failed to hide their grins as they bent over their desks.

It was clear to everyone that the minister was on board with the duke and framing Jolthar.

Hernais flushed crimson.