Married to the Villainous Duke

Chapter 21

"Are you feeling unwell, your grace?" Delia asks Estelle as she brushes her master's long black locks into a neat ponytail. The maid looks at the Duchess with worry as she notices that Estelle's complexion is pasty. She's preparing the lady for the public trial that will be held in front of the Blanchard Temple. 

"I'm okay, Delia." The duchess shows her a placid smile.

To be honest, I'm really anxious about going to the hearing to the point of feeling nauseous. Even though I'm not the one being accused, I'm scared about the outcome of the trial. For all I know, I could be the next one tried for witchcraft! Just thinking about it makes me want to vomit.

But, I should suck it up and attend the hearing. It will be a good place for me to learn why someone would get accused of being a witch and how I can defend myself if I'll ever be charged with it in the future. I can't die. I have to survive, not for myself, but for Niko. I don't want him to become the villain. I don't want to be the cause of his sadness and pain.

Estelle heads to the castle's courtyard where Nikolaidis is already waiting beside the carriage. He looks dashing today, as always, wearing a black suit with a blue cravat that complements his eyes. He smiles at his wife as he spots her arriving.

"Ready to go?" He asks, offering his hand out for her. 

She nods, taking his hand with a smile. They get in the carriage and set off to the Blanchard Dukedom Center. Estelle welcomes the wind that blows through the open windows as she admires the passing scenery. The fresh air and warmth relieve her nausea.  

They arrive at the temple's square where a wooden stage with two podiums on each end is set up. A large crowd has already gathered and are waiting for the hearing to begin. Estelle was told by Niko that it's been a while since Blanchard had a witch trial so everyone is very interested to spectate. An open cloth tent with three cushioned chairs inside is placed right in front of the stage.

"Thank you for coming to this trial, your excellency. Please follow me." A fair-haired young man wearing a white robe opens the coach's door and escorts them to the tent. 

"Greetings, Duke and Duchess," an old man with a full white beard wearing a similar white robe greets them with a bow as they arrive.

"Greetings, Chief Priest Eloy," Nikolaidis says.

So this is the Chief Priest of Blanchard Temple. He's exactly what you'd expect the head of the temple to look like, Estelle thinks as she watches the two men shake hands. They all take their seats in the tent.

Priest Eloy shouts, "let the trial commence," making the crowd hush down.

A dark curly haired man enters the stage and stands behind one of the podiums, "good morning citizens of Blanchard. We are gathered here for the trial of Morgana Vedma who is accused of practicing witchcraft. Bring forth the defendant."

Two guards carry a woman in to the center. Is she Morgana Vedma? Her dirty blonde hair is a mess and her clothes look like she's been dragged through mud. With her hands tied behind her, she scans frantically through the crowd. Her green eyes bloodshot. She locks eyes with Estelle and she stares at the Duchess strangely. 

Why is the witch staring at me?! Estelle's heart races fast in her chest. She darts her eyes away from the woman and focuses on the curly haired man, who she assumes is the acting prosecutor of the hearing.

"Our primary informant, Mr. Midav Pascal, will now speak."

A young lad, who looks barely over twenty, lifelessly walks to the other podium.

"I paid this woman," he points to Morgana, "a sum of 15 gold coins to make my beloved Angela fall in love with me."

He starts crying as he continues, "but that never happened! She killed Angela!"

"How are you sure it was caused by Morgana?" The prosecutor asks.

"Angela was too young and perfectly healthy! The day after I gave the witch a lock of Angela's hair, my Angela suddenly fell unconscious. Doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong with her. She died 10 days after she became ill!"

"Mr. Pascal, you do know that it is against the law to pay for someone to be put under a spell without their consent?"

The crowd murmurs. Some even snicker saying that the lad is stupid for voluntarily admitting to doing the illegal transaction. On the other hand, Estelle thinks that what happened to Angela sounds similar to what she heard happened to 'the old Estelle' right before she took over her body. Even the number of days she was unconscious coincides to mine.

"Yes, I know it was wrong! I'm willing to reveal this and be put in jail as long as it brings justice to Angela's death!"

"Very well, Mr. Pascal. Do you have anything to say about this, Morgana?"

The curly haired man turns to the witch who has her head down. She seems to be only held upright by the guards holding her and could collapse any minute. Morgana doesn't respond.

"It seems that our defendant has no words to say. Let's call in Dr. Bergmon, one of the doctors who examined Angela and pronounced her death."

A middle-aged red head female replaces the informant on the podium. She begins speaking in a no-nonsense tone, "Lady Angela's parents called me to examine their daughter who suddenly fainted in the middle of the day. I could not find any physical illness that caused it and advised them to seek assistance from a temple healer. I was updated daily as she remained unconscious for 10 days and, on the night of the 10th day, her family found her not breathing and they could no longer hear her heartbeat. I came to their home and confirmed her death."

"This is her death certificate." The woman gives a scroll of paper to the prosecutor and immediately leaves the stage. He shows it around for the crowd to see. Estelle was seated right at the center where she could clearly read the name on the certificate: Angela Strulyova. 

"It is considered dark magic when a magical spell is used to cause injury, hallucination, illness or death. Our bureau received multiple anonymous reports that claim Morgana caused similar events to happen. After checking all these allegations against Morgana Vedma, by the authority vested in me by his Imperial Majesty Emperor Maghnus Ludington de Ghesquire the Third, I claim that the woman is guilty of practicing dark magic and is therefore a witch."

The prosecutor faces them seated on the tent, "your reverence, Priest Eloy and your excellency, Duke Nikolaidis. Please tell us your judgement."

"Guilty," Priest Eloy speaks.

"Guilty," Nikolaidis seconds.

The crowd chants, "burn the witch! Burn the witch! Burn the witch!"

"Morgana Vedma, you are guilty of witchcraft and sentenced to death by burning."

Estelle watches in horror as the guards drag the limp woman down to a post surrounded by a pile of wood while the people cheer. They tie her to the stake and drench her entire body with a strong-smelling clear liquid. Is that gas? Are they going to execute her right away?!

"My love," Nikolaidis puts an arm on her. Estelle didn't realize she's been nervously fumbling with her silver ring.

"Are you scared? You're not used to this," her husband gently says.

She nods and he covers her eyes for her, "you don't need to see this part."

She hears the sound of wood cracking and feels the surroundings becoming hot. They're starting the fire... Soon the stench of burning flesh fills the air. It's a smell Estelle knows well due to her experience in the operating room. When the surgeon uses a cautery machine to cut through the patient's skin, the whole O.R. would smell this way - it's similar to what burnt hair smells like. Only this time, it's ten times stronger and fouler as it's mixed with the scent of gas.

The hairs on Estelle's body stand as Morgana screams. A wail of pure agony that Estelle could feel down to the bone. The Duchess tries to drown out the witch's shrieks by covering her ears but it wasn't enough. She helplessly listens to every yelp, howl, and whimper as the witch burns alive.