Return of the General's Daughter
Chapter 174: The Purge: Trial of the Magistrate, Conclusion

Chapter 174: The Purge: Trial of the Magistrate, Conclusion

"Her name was Mariam."

"She had once dreamed of becoming a teacher because she believed, with all her heart, that Northem could rise above its darkness through the light of education, that children deserved better, and that her homeland could be great if only its people were taught to see clearly."

"Now, that dream lay buried."

As the young woman stepped forward, rage and purpose burning in her eyes, the magistrate scrambled back in terror, his hands planted behind him, knees curled toward his chest in a futile attempt at defense.

"How could you be a judge when you are so evil?" The young woman was now looking down at the magistrate who was sitting down on the floor, a pitiful sight.

"I made a promise to Mariam," she continued, eyes gleaming with unshed tears. "That I would avenge her. Maybe she’s watching now. Maybe she’s guiding my hands."

The sharp, sickening crack silenced the room.

The magistrate howled in agony.

"Guards!" he shrieked, voice shrill with desperation. "Get this madwoman away from me!"

But the guards stood frozen, their eyes flicking to Prince Alaric. He said nothing. His silence was a verdict. His gaze, cold and steady, was permission.

Then came the final blow. The leg of the chair struck the magistrate’s groin. A howl of pure, animalistic pain burst from his throat.

He begged.

"Now, you knew pain? Did you take pity on that little girl even when her voice was hoarse from crying and from asking you to stop?"

The room flinched with every strike. Even the hardened men recoiled, instinctively crossing their legs, their faces pale.

At last, the magistrate went limp. Unconscious.

Only then did Alaric nod. The guards stepped in, gently pried the chair from the woman’s hands, and carried the broken man away like discarded trash.

Then, the woman suddenly burst into tears and laughed, her whole body trembling.

"Mariam," she whispered, "you can rest now. There is justice in this world."

The bailiff was tried next. Few came to testify against him. He was just an accomplice, an accessory to the magistrate’s crimes.

Alaric stood tall, his voice like thunder as he read the verdict. "For the magistrate—execution by hanging. For the bailiff—imprisonment, five to eight years."

The courtroom erupted in cheers. The victims—many silent for years—finally rejoiced. The young woman who had delivered justice herself stood among them, her head held high.

"Prince Alaric of Northem, why did you come only now? Why not last year?"

Silence enveloped the courtroom.

Alaric and his companion Agilus moved toward the doors, followed by a wave of murmuring spectators to check the commotion outside.

Only two women remained inside: Lara and the young avenger.

"That was a bold move, young lady," Lara said softly—her voice now her own and not Kane’s. "I hope it was enough to soothe your pain."

The woman turned, confused. Lara pulled the cloth from her neck. A slender throat was revealed—smooth, unmistakably feminine.

"You... you’re a woman?" the young lady asked, stunned.

Lara nodded and sat beside her.

"What’s your name?"

"I am Thalia." the young woman answered tentatively. "You were the one who tried to save me last time," she said in a small voice.

"Yes. But I failed you," Lara replied, gently.

"Still... thank you."

"What is your plan, now?" Lara asked curiously. She was distracted by the noise that was getting louder outside but she was determined to know what the woman’s plans were.

"I don’t know." She replied, hesitating. "I cannot go back and face my family ... my fiance..." A lone tear fell from her eye. "I could not face them. I am dirty."

Lara exhaled slowly. "Then maybe it’s time you made a new path..."

"You, royalties of the capital! You came here just to gain reputation! What do you know of our suffering ha? You did not care about the people at all!"

The old woman’s voice was so loud that Lara thought she was using a megaphone. And she was speaking against a prince of Northem. Wasn’t she afraid that she would be punished?

She rose from her seat and headed outside, Thalia following closely behind.

What met Lara’s gaze was a narrow street filled with people. Some of them were the ones who had been inside the courtroom earlier. At the center of the street, right in front of the Magistrate’s Office, an elderly woman in her early seventies stood, a thick stick in her right hand for support. Her back was slightly stooped, and her skin was tanned from prolonged exposure to the sun.

"Ah, she is the grandmother of the two women who were raped by an official and whose son was sentenced to death for avenging his children." someone whispered from the crowd.

"Grandma," said Agilus. His tone was very respectful and calm. We are sorry for your loss. There was a war, so we couldn’t come earlier."

"Heh! Even if there was no war, you wouldn’t have come. There was no war three years ago, but where were you when the officials assigned by the capital were doing atrocities here in Calma?"

Agilus was at a loss how to respond. He looked at Alaric helplessly.

"Grandma, I, as the representative from the monarchy, had no excuse. But the past is past, and we can do nothing about it. We need to move forward and face the present and the future. We are here now—to build a better future." Alaric’s deep and pleasant voice seemed to calm the people on the street, but it seemed to agitate the old woman.

Her eyes burned. "So we just forget? Sweep it all under the rug?" How about us, who lost our children and our livelihood? How about the women who lost their chastity?"

"But Grandma, the magistrate was already punished. He will pay for his crime with his life. He will be executed next month by hanging."

The old woman’s expression changed; relief seemed to soften it. But someone behind her said something, and the old woman’s expression hardened again.

Lara frowned. She felt that something was off. She stepped forward, weaving silently through the crowd until she stood just behind the old woman and the two girls flanking her.

"What good will it do, ha? Can it bring back my son’s life and my grandchildren’s purity?" Her weathered voice raged.

Lara stepped forward and, with a gentle smile, asked, "Then, Grandma, what do you want us to do?"

Lara’s gaze bore on the young woman to her right. She froze.

"We want a change in the monarchy!"

The crowd hushed. All eyes turned to the old woman.

She did not notice it because she turned to her right, and just as she spoke softly, "Miss Verna, did I get it right?" the silence magnified her words.