The Titan Queen - Levi X Reader

Chapter 22 - The Rebirth

You kicked out multiple viewers from the seats on the second floor, looking over the balcony. You'd thought that they may have attempted to fight you for them, but one glance at the pure temper and adrenaline simmering on the auras projected by your friends somehow convinced them otherwise.

"I don't want to be here," Marco whispered, and made to get up – but with a ruthless glance at Isabel, the red-haired girl snatched at his sleeve and jolted him to a halt.

"You can't leave," you said, sitting down and making sure that at least all of the judges had looked up at your crew at least once.

"Jean's spotted you," Isabel breathed in his ear, her green eyes glimmering. "You can't abandon him here. Stay for his trial."

You leaned irreverently over the railing, Connie biting his lip as Petra prompted him to sit next to you. "You're a sadist," Connie said. "Leaving Jean here to suffer as a criminal is one thing, Y/N, but making us watch as he gets sentenced to it? That's cruel."

Jean had indeed clocked all of you. He wasn't looking spectacular – not that he ever truly did. His square jaw was dusted in bruises, and his lip had been cut by a shoddily thrown punch. But his eyes were dry as he raised them to roam the silhouettes of your crew, snagging on Marco's as the dark-haired boy was dragged into a seat beside Isabel.

The disturbance caused by your arrival was quietened by the head judge, who looked like he was trying very hard to not be caught glancing up to you. A court visit by the Ruler herself – the pressure was on. And when things were put under pressure, you mused, they would buckle.

Or they'd break the thing pressuring them.

That's what you were all here to find out – which would break first. The judges and the law system, or the rules made by you and Team Gluttony.

"Back to the case at hand," the judge said, his tone frosty, "do you deny falsifying records?"

"Yes," Jean said, without preamble. He leaned forwards, and the dim light of the candles caught the sheen of sweat on his brow. "I didn't falsify anything – the sources of food are appalling! The food isn't safe!"

"But you are not who you claimed to be," the judge interrupted, leaning back – the picture of satisfied elegance, if you could imagine him without the ugly chin. "Bring a copy of the book of laws, please."

You raised an eyebrow as Jean shot a look up at you. His face fell.

The book was carried in by three guards in the old breed of armour – the iron clinking as they moved, bringing in a leather-bound book that looked far too old to exist. The judge and the book deserved each other, you thought. The crowd of viewing people leaned forwards, holding their breath as the judge flipped his way through the pages, his eyes winking behind his glasses. The mission you'd given Connie yesterday must have worked out, if there were this many people here. Indeed, the small group of elderly people that must have been regularly present in court sessions were looking rather confused at the sudden population of seats, clearly wondering why on earth a mere boy of Y/A years old was so entirely dangerous.

"It says here that falsifying any records of any origin, be it name, merchandise or of economical nature, should indeed suffer the appropriate punishment listed under the section of imprisonment," the judge read, his voice triumphant.

"Imprisonment?" Jean repeated, his voice pitiful in comparison.

"The duration of which shall be decided on the jury of people," the judge continued, looking less pleased. The jury of people looked stunned – which wasn't surprising. Court cases ordinarily did not rely on them – the punishment was usually decided on by the judge.