An awkward silence suddenly filled the room, all thanks to the bombshell Camilla—formerly referred to as Lady Arschach—had just dropped.
Well, it’s not like I didn’t expect someone to make such a suggestion eventually.
Her statement wasn’t particularly shocking in its content.
If she’d proposed something like gassing them in chambers or flaying them alive, that would’ve been alarming.
But the idea of wiping them out entirely?
That was inevitable.
There were plenty here who, like me, had endured years of unimaginable suffering, many of them narrowly escaping death countless times.
Some returned alive but had lost fingers, an eye, or worse.
After going through such hell, wouldn’t it be strange if they didn’t harbor a deep, bone-deep grudge?
Frankly, I would’ve been more surprised if not a single person had shouted to burn and tear them apart.
But Camilla? She was different.
She was barely past twenty, a young noblewoman whose greatest battles likely took place in social circles.
A lady of privilege, raised in comfort without ever having dirtied her hands—how did someone like her become so ruthless?
“Um… Lady Arschach?”
“Why do you call me that, sir?”
Hesitating for a moment as I reverted to her old title in this formal setting, she eventually replied.
“Do you hold some sort of grudge against your parents? Talking so easily about killing your family isn’t something you should do.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t know, would you? I’m an illegitimate child.”
“…What?”
Another bombshell dropped with no warning.
Revealing her family’s secret so casually left me speechless and unable to respond.
…Wait, hold on.
An illegitimate child? But she’s been treated as a noble daughter and uses her family’s surname?
According to the kingdom’s succession laws, illegitimate children can only take the family name if they’re adopted by the legitimate wife.
Doesn’t that contradict what she just said?
I was about to ask how that was possible when she added an explanation.
“Technically, I became an illegitimate child right before I was born. All thanks to my father, who couldn’t keep it in his pants, just like the Crown Prince.”
“…What do you mean by that?”
“My biological mother was the legitimate wife of Viscount Arschach, but she passed away five years ago. Before we’d even finished mourning or removed our mourning clothes, my father brought in a new woman—along with my half-sibling.”
“Half-sibling? You mean…”
“Yes. The dear Viscount had been cheating on my mother even while she was alive. And the moment she passed, he tried to bring his mistress into the household, child and all.”
Well. That’s… quite the turbulent family history.
The bitterness in her tone left no room for me to offer platitudes or excuses.
Kys had once suggested that Viscount Arschach be protected and supported, given his role as a key informant.
He was the one who first leaked critical details about the war, breaking the silence of the noble class.
The plan was to reward him generously as a symbol for others to follow suit.
But now… it might be best to abandon that idea.
Between the Viscount and Camilla, the latter was clearly more important—both politically and emotionally.
“As you all know,” she continued, “in our kingdom, the order of succession is determined by birth order, regardless of gender.”
“That’s correct.”
“Since I’m the eldest legitimate child, my half-sibling can’t inherit the title as long as I’m in the way. So, my father and his new wife did everything they could to nullify his marriage to my mother, trying to demote me to illegitimate status.”
While the royal family adheres strictly to the principle of primogeniture for legitimate heirs, the nobility operates differently.
Female heirs can hold titles, and the firstborn child—regardless of gender—is generally prioritized for inheritance.
Though in practice, sons often inherit.
The system is flexible enough to allow for various legal maneuvers.
By negotiating with the crown and the church, they could have easily elevated the second child’s succession rights.
So why aim to annul the marriage instead?
There must have been more going on behind the scenes.
Poor Camilla.
Because of her lecherous father and greedy stepmother, even her very identity was denied.
“Thanks to them, I’ve suffered all sorts of humiliations over the past five years. I’ve been disrespected by maids, slapped and had my hair pulled by my younger sibling, had my mother’s keepsakes stolen from me, and was even engaged to a seventy-year-old man. If he hadn’t died of old age, I would’ve been forced to marry him!”
“…You’ve been through a lot,” I said, struggling to find adequate words.
“It was hell, pure and simple. And there were several times I almost ended up in the real hell, thanks to attempted assassinations. Honestly, one of the reasons I got into politics—about 40% of it—is because my family was such a disaster. Debating with strangers was way more fun than tiptoeing around my own house.”
Camilla shrugged nonchalantly, as if it were nothing.
“So, I figured I’d take this opportunity to kill my parents and sibling and claim the title myself. I’m tired of always being the victim.”
“I see. Let’s stop there,” I interjected quickly.
If this conversation went any further, the mood in the room would be utterly ruined.
Please, calm down, young lady.
After hearing her story in full, I calmly rejected her proposal.
“However, I’m afraid it won’t be possible to execute the nobles immediately, as you’ve suggested. Regrettably, that approach is off the table.”
“Why not? Didn’t you round them all up just to punish them?”
“Well, yes, that’s true,” I admitted.
Then I pointed out the glaring flaw in her logic, which she seemed to have forgotten in her excitement.
“Our kingdom is still a nation governed by laws and judicial systems. If we execute them without proper trials, what will happen to the credibility of our regime?”
Even in an era where high-ranking individuals could often evade justice, abuse their power, and brush aside their crimes, it was important to uphold some semblance of legal integrity.
We cannot simply ignore the laws we’ve established.
Institutions derive their value only when they are adhered to.
This is especially true for us—a group that seized power on the grounds of opposing the incompetence and tyranny of the previous ruling class.
There’s a so-called line that must not be crossed, one we must uphold.
“…Then, are you saying we shouldn’t kill them and just let them go?” Camilla asked, frowning.
“That’s not it at all,” I immediately refuted her assumption.
Maintaining the line doesn’t mean abandoning action—it means staying within the bounds of reason and law while still achieving our objectives.
“We need to follow proper procedures. First, we need to justify the arrests of these nobles with sound legal arguments.”
Right now, we’ve detained all the nobles without warrants, and while we had valid reasons for doing so, those reasons aren’t officially recognized yet.
To legitimize the arrests, we’d have to establish a legal framework retroactively.
“To make things certain, we’ll need to pass a new law in parliament soon. Something along the lines of… granting unconditional and immediate arrest authority for charges of treason.”
“You’re planning to treat the nobles as traitors?”
“Why not? They’ve hidden the causes of a decade-long war and exploited the people. Some of them even actively contributed to the war’s cause.”
The most effective approach is to frame them all as traitors.
Unlike ordinary criminals, dealing harshly with traitors won’t attract as much criticism.
Additionally, by including a clause for retroactive application of the law, we can effectively neutralize any backlash for what we’ve already done during the coup.
The deployment of troops to populated areas? Justified as cutting off escape routes.
The mass detention of nobles? Framed as the capture of traitors and their accomplices.
This framing would ensure everything aligns with the new legal narrative.
We can frame our actions as “a somewhat extreme but necessary decision to preserve social order.”
“With the parliamentary quorum set at 60% attendance, there should be no issue with passing the law.”
“I’ll ensure it’s approved at the next session.”
“I’ll leave the detailed drafting to you. I don’t have the bandwidth to handle that myself.”
Once we create the charges, the next step is clear: trials.
Each individual must receive the proper punishment for their crimes.
By having an official judicial body impose the sentences, we can ensure that executions or imprisonments are carried out without hesitation or controversy.
However, there was one glaring issue.
“We’ll need to bring them to trial somehow…”
“Do you really think that’ll work? Most of the judges are nobles themselves.”
“Exactly. They’re bound to be in cahoots with the accused. There’s no way we’d get fair verdicts.”
The term robe nobility comes to mind.
These are families without lands or independent power bases, but they’ve built their influence over generations by inheriting judicial or administrative positions.
Unlike the administration, where new blood is introduced regularly and monopolies are harder to maintain, the judiciary is the opposite.
It’s a small, elite, and highly exclusionary group that prioritizes family connections above all else.
I’d heard that over 95% of judicial positions are passed down hereditarily.
And like any noble faction, these robe nobles are deeply interconnected through intermarriage and personal networks.
Each individual is tied to at least 10–20 families.
In such circumstances, the chances of a fair trial are slim, so my subordinates’ concerns were well-founded.
“You’re absolutely right,” I agreed.
“Then—” one of them began, but I cut him off.
“But I have no intention of holding a normal trial.”
My solution was simple: we wouldn’t use traditional judges at all.
“Excuse me? How is that even possible?”
“Of course it’s possible. We’ll just use a jury system.”
The jury system is one of the officially recognized trial methods in the kingdom.
It hasn’t been used for the past hundred years, but it still exists within the legal framework, so there’s no issue with reviving it.
“Put all the nobles on public trial. Select the attending citizens as jurors and let them decide the verdict by majority vote.”
A judgment shaped entirely by public opinion.
An environment where one-sided, carefully curated information can be fed to the masses.
By now, you’ve probably figured it out.
We’re going full people’s tribunal meta.