Chapter 2: The Baron's Wife (2)

In the dimly lit chamber, Eliza and her uncle carefully concealed the lifeless form of the Baroness within a specially crafted coffin.

"We must notify the Imperial Magistrate at the break of dawn," Eliza asserted, her tone grave with resolve. "They need to conduct an autopsy to uncover the truth."

Her uncle nodded solemnly, his brow furrowed with worry. "And we must find the suspect immediately," she added, her voice edged with urgency. "Within the next twenty-four hours."

"In two days' time?" her uncle queried, a note of uncertainty in his voice.

"Yes, the sooner, the better," Eliza affirmed, her gaze lingering on the silent figure before her, a strange mixture of curiosity and apprehension clouding her features.

"Enough staring," Uncle Sam interjected sharply, observing his niece's fascination with the Baroness's remains. Hastily, he draped a cloth over the coffin, shielding it from Eliza's unwavering gaze. "We cannot afford suspicion. They might mistake your curiosity for affection."

Acknowledging the wisdom in her uncle's words, Eliza reluctantly tore her eyes away from the coffin. "We should retire for the night," Uncle Sam suggested, a weariness evident in his voice. "Tomorrow will be a long day."

"Okay," Eliza murmured, her thoughts already drifting to the challenges that lay ahead. With a final glance at the covered coffin, she made her way to her chamber, her mind buzzing with unanswered questions and unresolved mysteries.

In the early hours of the morning, Eliza and her uncle made their way to the office of the Imperial Magistrate, eager to seek justice. Yet, despite being the first to arrive, they found themselves waiting in vain as the officials attended to those of higher rank and nobility, leaving commoners like them sidelined.

"Same old story," Eliza lamented silently, her disappointment palpable as she rose from her seat.

"Excuse me," she called out to the guard stationed at the entrance, her tone laced with frustration.

The guard turned towards her, annoyance evident in his expression. "What's your problem?" he snapped, his impatience thinly veiled.

"I demand to speak to the Imperial Magistrate," Eliza declared, forcing a smile despite the boiling anger within her. Beside her, her uncle watched with growing concern.

"You'll have to wait your turn. The Imperial Magistrate is occupied with matters concerning Viscount Sinclair," the guard retorted dismissively, his disdain for commoners evident in his tone.

"Is that so?" Eliza thought, her resolve hardening. "Then I'll show you just how 'commoners' act."

With a sudden burst of frustration and urgency, Eliza began to shout, her voice echoing outside the halls of the Imperial Magistrate's Office in a desperate plea for attention.

"IMPERIAL MAGISTRATE!"

Instantly, the guards sprang into action, moving to restrain her. "Eli, stop!" her uncle pleaded, fearing the consequences of her actions.

But Eliza refused to be silenced. Ignoring her uncle's pleas, she continued to shout, her determination unwavering despite the guards' attempts to subdue her.

"BRING HIM DOWN HERE, NOW!"

As the commotion escalated, one of the guards brandished his weapon, a warning to quell her rebellion.

"Eli, please!" her uncle cried out in alarm, his voice filled with dread as he watched his niece's defiance spiral out of control.

"Release her," a commanding voice resonated, his voice carrying the weight of authority. Stepping forward with an air of authority, a striking young man with golden locks and piercing emerald eyes emerged from the shadows of the Imperial Magistrate's Office. As his presence filled the room, the guards released their grip on Eliza, and the front guard lowered his pistol, offering a respectful salute to him.

Observing the Imperial Magistrate closely, Eliza's mind raced with recognition. "Is he... Vincent?" she mused, a fleeting sense of relief washing over her as she realized her mistake.

Vincent, the Young Duke of the Yuviano family and a close confidant of the Emperor, was a figure familiar to Eliza from the pages of the untitled innovel. Yet, as she studied the man before her, she noted the absence of the grievous injury that marked Vincent's character in the story.

"His right arm... it's unharmed," Eliza noted, her curiosity piqued as she approached the blond-haired nobleman, only to falter at the sorrowful tone in his voice.

"Kristen..." he murmured, a hint of sadness clouding his features.

"Damn it," Eliza cursed inwardly, her mind reeling from the unexpected revelation. Yet, she pushed aside her shock, her determination unyielding as she focused on her objective: uncovering the truth behind the Baroness's death.

"Your Honor, we need your assistance," Eliza stated firmly, her gaze unwavering as she locked eyes with the nobleman before her.

Her uncle, however, intervened, his voice tinged with fear. "No, we must leave at once," he urged, grasping Eliza's arm in a desperate attempt to pull her away from danger.

Ignoring her uncle's pleas, Eliza shook off his grip, her resolve unwavering. "I will not retreat," she declared, her voice ringing with conviction. "I will see this through to the end, with or without your help."

With a steely determination, Eliza brushed past her uncle, closing the distance between herself and Vincent. Though uncertainty loomed ahead, she was determined to press on, for she knew that the truth lay within reach, waiting to be unveiled.

"My name is Eliza," she declared solemnly, her gaze unwavering as she locked eyes with Vincent. "The information I am about to disclose is of utmost confidentiality. I request a moment of privacy, Your Honor."

Vincent, still grappling with the uncanny resemblance between Eliza and his childhood friend Kristen, hesitated for a moment before offering a hesitant nod. "This way," he replied, leading her into the sanctuary of the Imperial Magistrate's Office.

As they entered, Eliza couldn't shake the sense of familiarity that washed over her, the atmosphere reminiscent of her own world's law office. She traced her fingers along the rows of file cases, a smile playing at her lips as she surveyed the meticulous organization of the file cases.

"Have you managed to resolve all these cases?" she inquired eagerly, her excitement palpable. However, when she noticed Vincent's distracted demeanor, her smile faltered, replaced by a quizzical expression.

Vincent, caught off guard by Eliza's observation, cleared his throat uncomfortably, his gaze momentarily lingering on her before hastily diverting his attention elsewhere. "Lady Eliza, please, take a seat," he offered, gesturing towards the plush couches arranged in the center of the room.

"Thank you," Eliza replied, accepting the invitation as Vincent poured tea into delicate china cups. Seated across from each other, the air between them crackled with anticipation as they prepared to delve into the matter at hand.

"So, what important information do you have to share?" Vincent inquired, his tone composed as he delicately sipped his tea.

But before Eliza could respond, she paused, fixing Vincent with a penetrating gaze. "Before we proceed, do you understand the concept of an autopsy?" she asked, her voice tinged with urgency.

"Of course," Vincent replied, his brow furrowing in confusion. "But why do you ask?"

"Good," Eliza replied, a hint of excitement dancing in her eyes. Sensing Vincent's distraction, she waved a hand in front of his face, drawing his attention back to her.

"I hope there will be no war in this Empire," Vincent remarked suddenly, his tone tinged with sadness, catching Eliza off guard.

"Out of the blue?" she remarked, bewildered by the sudden shift in conversation.

But as they resumed their discussion, Eliza revealed the true reason for her visit: the injured wife of Baron Davis, seeking justice for the harm inflicted upon her. As Vincent listened intently, Eliza made a bold request, imploring him to represent the Baroness in court.

"Lady, I preside over trials. It's not possible for me to act as her lawyer," Vincent countered, taken aback by Eliza's insistence.

"But it is possible," Eliza persisted, her unwavering gaze fixed upon him. "And I trust you."

Vincent, visibly surprised by her unwavering faith, pressed further, questioning her motives. "What's in it for me?" he inquired, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"You do not have the privilege to negotiate, do you not, Your Honor Edmund Castella? Or should I address you as the Young Duke of Yuviano?"

Eliza's lips curved into a smirk, observing Vincent's startled response with a sense of satisfaction.

"I know why you conceal your identity as an Imperial Magistrate within the confines of this small town of Pine Crest," she remarked.

Vincent, visibly caught off guard, inquired, "What is your intention?"

"Simply be the Baroness' lawyer and aid me in pursuing justice on her behalf," Eliza retorted, her smile unwavering.

"Very well," he agreed, a hint of intrigue in his voice.