h4Chapter 593: No Ordinary Girl/h4

    "I may not be awyer, but I’ve read enough to know how this court works. Thank you very much."

    Daniel’s face tightened, but before he could snap back, the Prime Minister raised a hand. His sharp, aged eyes studied Nnenna in silence. For a heartbeat, no one breathed. Then, to everyone’s shock, he leaned back in his chair.

    "...I will allow it."

    The uproar that followed was immediate. Voices rose, confused, angry, stunned, but the Prime Minister’s re silenced them all. Within moments, guards escorted the housekeeper to the stand. Shackled, older, and visibly exhausted, the man still carried himself with quiet dignity.

    Nnenna stepped forward, unflinching.

    "You have worked for Riverum Castle for how long?" she asked.

    For a moment, the man stayed silent, as if weighing her intent. Then his voice, steady but worn, filled the hall.

    "Over four decades."

    A wave of murmurs passed through the crowd.

    Nnenna nodded slowly. "So, you not only served the previous king... you also watched his son grow up."

    "I did." The housekeeper’s gaze drifted, softening as he recalled. "I was there the very day he was born." His voice lowered, almost wistful, before hardening again.

    Nnenna’s expression did not change. "Would you say you see him as your own son?"

    The housekeeper hesitated. The silence stretched, then he swallowed and nodded. "...Yes. I would."

    The audience held its breath. Some staff shifted uneasily in their seats.

    Nnenna’s eyes flickered briefly toward the crowd before returning to him. "If I heard correctly," she continued, "you spent more time with His Highness than you did with your own children. Is that correct?"

    The housekeeper’s lips pressed into a line. His shoulders tensed, and he looked away for the first time. "...Yes. That is correct."

    Gasps scattered again, some pitying, some using. His daughters, sitting at the defense bench, lowered their heads, their faces a storm of emotions.

    "Objection, my Lord! What’s the point of all these meaningless questions from Miss Nnenna?"

    "Sustained," the Prime Minister said, though his tone carried an edge of curiosity. He, too, wanted to know where she was going with this.

    "The point of these ’meaningless questions,’" Nnenna began, turning slowly to face the chamber, "is to establish one simple fact, that this man has no true reason to harm His Highness. Don’t you all want to know why? Why someone so close would do such a thing? That’s what matters, the intent."

    Her words hung heavy in the air. Daniel shifted in his seat, his hesitation clear. He, too, wanted an answer. They had pressed the housekeeper over and over, but he never spoke. Maybe this time, under her gaze, he finally would.

    "Fine," Daniel muttered, sinking back into his chair.

    Nnenna’s eyes flicked to the Prime Minister, silently asking if she should proceed. He gave a small nod. He was seeking the same thing she was, the motive behind betrayal.

    Nnenna turned to the housekeeper, her voice calm but cutting. "You said you’ve spent more time with His Highness than even your own children. It’s obvious you care for him deeply. So tell me..." She leaned in slightly, her tone dropping softer, almost sorrowful. "Why would you poison someone you love?"

    .....

    A few minutes passed.

    Still no answer. The housekeeper kept his head bowed, lips sealed, as though silence itself was his final defense.

    Nnenna’s eyes narrowed. She turned to the Prime Minister. "My Lord," she said firmly, "this witness is clearly uncooperative and withholding information that could save the future king. I ask for permission to treat him as a hostile witness."

    "What are you doing?" one of the defensewyers shot up, his voice rising with anger. The wordsnded hard, shaking the chamber.

    Even Lora blinked in surprise, staring at Nnenna as if searching for her intent. All she found in Nnenna’s eyes was a quiet plea, trust me.

    "Sit down," Lora finally told thewyer.

    But he refused, his outrage spilling over. He leaned toward her, voice low but heated. "We can plead insanityter. But if she keeps pushing like this, nobody will believe us. We’ll lose everything."

    "I’m first chair on this case," Lora snapped back, her tone sharp as ss. "I won’t repeat myself. Sit down."

    Thewyer froze, staring at her as though he couldn’t believe her words. "I thought you hired me to save your father’s life," he whispered, frowning. "I’m just doing my job."

    "I know," Lora admitted, her sigh carrying both exhaustion and resolve. "But an insanity plea won’t hold. A psych evaluation will tear it apart, and I won’t lie. So sit down. Let her do this. Whatever her n is, sess or failure, she’s our only chance."

    Her sharp gaze pinned him in ce until, slowly, he sank back into his chair. He gave Lora a stiff nod, though his eyes still burned with fury at Nnenna.

    "Permission granted," the Prime Minister said atst, his gaze lingering on Nnenna. The room seemed to lean forward as silence pressed down. Even her newly joined team, though restless, offered no objection.

    Nnenna faced the housekeeper, her tone shifting, sharper now, colder. "You will answer my questions," she dered.

    The housekeeper lifted his head just enough to meet her eyes. His silence was defiance, his expression stone. For a moment, it seemed he would endure anything. His mental fortitude was legendary, a wall that no ordinary interrogation could break.

    But Nnenna wasn’t ordinary.

    Her eyes softened, her voice lowering as she called on the love system. A warmth, invisible yet crushing, pressed into the man’s chest, forcing open cracks in his resistance.

    Ding!

    "3,000 good points deducted."

    The housekeeper flinched, his breath stuttering. His lips trembled as the barrier of his will began to crumble.

    Finally, his voice broke the suffocating silence. "I... did it. I poisoned the soup."

    Gasps swept through the chamber. Daniel’s fists clenched on the table, his knuckles white. The Prime Minister’s sharp eyes narrowed, but he said nothing, waiting, watching.