The shuffle of feet on marble reminded Deputy Chancellor Voskol of papers being sorted. The War Hawks behind him were unusually quiet. No muttering about military matters, no complaining about procedure. Amazing what the prospect of Marix in chains could do to shut them up.
The Doves weren't much better, practically strutting. They'd learn eventually that victory required dignity, though probably not today. And then there was everyone else, tense with the extremely likely possibility that Marix is indeed a traitor, and that they'd been inadvertently contributing to the Empire's downfall.
But Voskol knew he was hardly one to speak. He'd been complacent, complicit, and everything in between. And it nagged him.
At least Klieger knew how to handle himself. The old man had seen enough political theater to understand that history cared more about presence than presentation. Probably not something as dire as treason against the Imperial Family, but he'd probably weathered enough storms to brace for this.
The chamber itself hadn't changed since last week's trade legislation, but the mood certainly had. Gone were the drowsy afternoons of tariff debates, replaced by the solemn gravity of Marix's alleged crimes. The Imperial Seal above the judge's bench had been freshly polished – a detail that would have irritated him if he hadn't specifically ordered it. The very Empire was watching. Best not to give them any symbols to misinterpret.
His fellow senators filed into their assigned seats with varying degrees of grace. The chosen arrangements would keep the War Hawks and Doves from glaring at each other across the aisle, though that hadn't stopped them from trying. Thankfully, there were more than enough Senators who stood in the middle, more concerned with the fact that the Emperor had been betrayed rather than ousting or retaining Marix.
The side door opened. Marix looked smaller than when he had assumed power. No chancellor's regalia today, just a plain uniform that hadn't been pressed properly. The guards moved him toward the defendant's box, his legal team assembling with whispers.
Strange, seeing him like this. The man had spent years climbing through Senate ranks, carefully building his influence, only to throw it all away on a few months of playing emperor. Even so, the man didn't seem to care much, as if this were only a minor roadbump; a matter his defense team might easily handle. Prideful and stubborn, even to the end, it seemed.
The only other party missing was the Imperial Family itself, though likely for good reason. If they were to appear, it'd be after the entire trial was over with, once they've assured their own safety.
As they settled in, the judge finally decided to grace them with his presence. The traditional call to order felt perfunctory; everyone had been silent since Marix's entrance. Voskol sunk into his chair. Might as well get comfortable. The judge had that look about him, the one that meant they'd be hearing a very thorough explanation of very obvious matters.
With a tap of his gavel, he spoke. "I, Wern Reimardt, Chief Justice of the Imperial Court, acting under authority of His Imperial Majesty, hereby convene this extraordinary session of the court. In accordance with Imperial Statute seventeen-dash-four, covering crimes against the sovereign power, this court is now in session."
Protocol demanded they all rise. Again. Voskol caught Klieger suppressing a wince as his joints protested the constant up and down. They'd be doing this dance all morning.
"Guinea Marix, former Chancellor of the Gra Valkas Empire, you stand accused of high treason against His Imperial Majesty." The judge's voice boomed through the chamber. "Specifically: orchestrating a violent coup against the Imperial throne, the attempted murder of Emperor Gra Lux, conspiracy to imprison the Imperial Family, falsification of military records, and willful suppression of information vital to the Empire's security."
