When the Female Lead Went Off-Script, the Main Male Lead Became the Tyrant's Empress - Chapter 4.1
The things that inspired pity and anguish over Clary did not end there.
Just as Haster set his niece down in the guest room and entered the drawing room where the Emperor was waiting, a commotion suddenly broke out outside.
Urgent footsteps drew closer and closer.
“Your Majesty!”
The Countess burst into the drawing room with a deathly pale face.
At her grave expression, the Emperor shot to his feet.
“What happened? Has something terrible happened to my granddaughter?”
“I am deeply sorry to report this, but you must see it for yourself.”
Before the Countess could even finish speaking, Haster took the lead and guided the Emperor to the guest room.
The door to the guest room stood open.
The maids moved about busily, asking, “Not yet?”
The maid looking out the window shook her head.
Clary sat on the bed with her back turned, wearing nothing but a robe instead of her dress.
The Countess approached her.
At the sound of someone entering, Clary whipped her head around. When she saw the three men standing in the doorway, she became visibly restless.
The Countess patted her shoulder and said something to persuade her, and Clary’s eyes darted around anxiously.
Then, as though she had made up her mind, she let out a long sigh. She glanced toward the Emperor before untying the tightly fastened belt of her robe.
The three men were startled by her sudden undressing.
But when the bare back concealed beneath the robe was revealed, their surprise turned to horror.
At first, they thought someone had smeared paint across her back and scribbled over it.
But it wasn’t paint or scribbling.
Her small, delicate back was mottled all over with several dark purple bruises, each the size of a palm.
Thin and thick red lash marks had been mercilessly carved across the bruises, as though someone had disliked a ruined painting and slashed it to pieces with a knife.
Haster berated himself for his foolishness.
His niece hadn’t flinched because she was sensitive, nor had her body gone rigid because she felt awkward.
She had been at a loss over the pain inflicted by even the slightest impact.
More horrifying than the wounds that had clotted with blood without even having a chance to heal was the mark branded beneath her right shoulder blade.
The hideous brand used on cattle and pigs clearly displayed its presence, unobscured even by the dark bruises and wounds.
The Emperor’s only granddaughter was livestock.
She was a beast created by her guardian, a lowly lump of meat.
A silence so heavy that it was difficult to breathe filled the room.
At the appalling sight, Arden let out a low groan.
An unbearable surge of violent emotion shook the Emperor.
A fierce roar like a thunderbolt burst through the tense air.
“Capture Arthur Lurie! Drag that son of a bitch before me right now!”
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Not long after the Emperor erupted in fury, his loyal knights brought not only Arthur Lurie before him, but also the elderly wealthy man who had intended to take Clary as his second wife and the officiating priest who had been hiding in the temple.
The man who called himself her uncle nervously looked around, then ground his teeth when he saw Clary clinging close to the Emperor’s side.
He had only known that his damned niece had run away somewhere. He had never imagined that she knew her true identity and would personally seek out the Emperor.
That wench. That damned bitch had ruined everything.
The way she acted like a lowly beast without even appreciating the kindness of being raised suited the brand on her back perfectly.
The trial began at once.
As the Emperor, who acted as judge, listed the charges, the cold gazes of his attendants and the members of the Count’s household poured upon Arthur Lurie like arrows.
“This is unjust! How could you arrest me based solely on the word of that young wench? These are all false accusations!”
How had someone who had never been outside and received only the most basic education persuaded the Emperor?
That foolish girl hadn’t known her mother’s name or status.
She had forgotten that she was the daughter of a Baron.
She had even forgotten that her own name was Clary Lurie.
She believed that ‘Tessie,’ the name he had given her, was her real name.
A dull-witted, naive, and foolish girl.
That was Arthur’s assessment of Clary.
Then how had she remembered her real name?
Had someone told her?
“The same applies to these accusations of abuse. If there is evidence, then show it here and now.”
There was evidence. It would be revealed if they simply removed the clothes Clary was wearing.
However, Clary was exceedingly shy.
Conditioned by the fear and violent brainwashing he had instilled in her for years, Clary refused to expose her bare skin.
She kept herself completely covered even in the height of summer, when sweat poured down her body.
As though something terrible would happen if she removed her clothes.
In a summary trial, the Emperor acted as judge, and those gathered in the courtroom became witnesses to the proceedings.
Anyone would hesitate to undress in front of others.
Who would willingly endure such humiliation in a trial that would be permanently entered into the records?
Therefore, Clary would undoubtedly be unable to present the evidence she possessed.
He didn’t know what she had said or how she had persuaded the Emperor, but there had to be a weakness in her story.
Just as he expected, Clary stood her ground with her doe-like eyes lowered, tightly clutching the hem of her clothes.
‘Stupid girl. I knew it.’
Arthur sensed his victory and bit his tongue to suppress the sneer threatening to escape.
“Huh?”
A stupid sound slipped from his mouth.
Clary had stepped into the center of the courtroom and removed her clothes.
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