My Pet Fox Is Actually A Demon Prince-Chapter 42: Final Judgment

"A slave?"

The word rippled through the hall, drawing sharp breaths and hushed murmurs from every corner.

For a fleeting instant, Vera’s lips curled, but the expression vanished, just as quickly as it came, smoothed into careful composure.

"Yes," she said, stepping forward with measured grace. "A slave. She meant to pass herself off as a commoner. Being tied to such a name is disgraceful, and she was going to lie her way out. That would be deception before the Masters and Elders. I could not allow such dishonor to stand, so I had to intervene and expose the truth."

Turning to the Masters and the Elders, she dipped her head politely, as if to apologize for overstepping her boundaries.

The gesture, from everyone else’s perspective, was humble, almost reverent.

Kyva could only stare at her, confusion tightening in her chest. What had she done to her to deserve this?

A few of the disciples snickered under their breath. Others looked at Kyva more openly now, their curiosity sharpened into something uglier.

"Filth clings to such origin," someone spoke up, as though discussing the quality of grain. " Still... they can be made useful."

"A slave..." one of the senior adepts repeated, studying Kyva as though she were an object laid out for appraisal. "Unfit for formal discipleship, perhaps. Should the Masters permit it, I would like to take her as a servant under my retinue."

There was something in their voice– something that made the offer sound less like a charity and more like a claim. It made Kyva shiver where she knelt.

They all wanted her for the wrong reasons.

Another senior adept spoke up, barely bothering to lower his voice. "She’s not unpleasant to look at, for a slave."

Rather than being rebuked for his words, a few chuckles followed instead.

Kyva said nothing.

There was nothing to say.

Their words passed judgment enough without her voice.

At last, the Master presiding over the tide-bound disciples leaned forward slightly, his gaze settling on her.

"Child," he said, "is this true? Are you, in fact, a human slave?"

Kyva swallowed.

For a moment, the silence pressed in on her from all sides, thick as water. Every eye remained fixed on her, waiting, weighing and wanting.

Her lips parted.

"...Yes."

The single word fell cleanly into the hall.

Kyva kept her gaze low, though she could feel their eyes crawling over her, measuring her not as a person, but as a possession yet to be claimed.

The senior adept who had spoken before leaned forward, interest sharpening his features. "You see? Honesty born of fear is still a useful trait. It spares one the trouble of discipline."

Kyva’s fingers curled tighter into her dress, so tight her nails bit into her palm, but she said nothing. This... this moment was what she had fought so hard to avoid, despite being aware of the outcome. A life spent beneath the gazes of powerful houses had taught her one truth: they never saw her as a person.

She hated it.

Hated seeing the looks of pity and resentment in their faces.

She wanted to change that. To prove that she was in fact capable.

But she was defenseless here.

A female senior adept scoffed lightly. "Senior brother, you are too quick to claim. Such people could serve equally well in many households."

"Or be shared among duties," another suggested carelessly.

More laughter erupted.

Through it all, the Master at the head of the hall spoke at last.

"Enough."

The word did not need volume to carry. The noise died at once, though the hunger in the room did not.

"You claim the truth of your standing," he said. "That alone does not condemn you. Nor does it absolve you."

He rose from his seat. "In this hall, worth is not necessarily given, at least, not in your case. So tell me, child— why should we see you as anything more than what they have named you?"

Kyva dropped her head to the floor as she replied, "I might be branded a slave, but that is not all that I am. I did not choose this path, nor the chains placed upon me. If worth is proven, as you say... then let it be proven by what I can do... not by what has been done to me. I stumbled upon the Trial of Calling by mere happenstance, yet... I stand here today."

"This is a waste of time," one of the Masters from the Ember Quarter spoke up, unable to contain his irritation. "She has admitted her station. She has been tainted. That alone disqualifies her. Unless, of course, the Masters in charge of the Aquiline Quarter intends to lower the standards of this hall."

He turned slightly, addressing the Masters more directly.

"If she is to remain, let it be decided properly, once and for all. Not as a disciple, but as a servant of the Aquiline Quarter."

The word landed harder than the first.

Kyva felt her eyes heat up, hot and insistent, but she forced it down, locking it before it could betray her. She refused to let herself shed a tear. Not here. Not before them.

Meanwhile, from across the hall, Vera drew herself up, satisfaction flickering openly across her face now that the truth had been laid bare.

Once a person’s reputation is stained, it is stained for good.

But her moment of victory did not last.

Someone seized her arm roughly, and she stumbled half a step back as Liora yanked her away from the line, her grip unyielding.

Selene stood at her side, and both of them stared at Vera with open, undisguised fury.

They said nothing at first, could say nothing, not against the Masters or against the senior adepts.

But Vera?

Vera was within reach.

"You will answer for this," Selene said at last, her voice low but cutting. "Mark me well, you will answer for it."

Vera let out a short, disbelieving laugh at her words, though she did not quite meet Selene’s gaze.

"For what?" she shot back. "For speaking the truth?"

"She has done nothing to you," Liora stepped in. "Nothing. Yet you drag her name through the dirt before the entire hall. For what— spite? Envy?"

A brief flicker passed across Vera’s face before her expression hardened.

"Why should it matter to either of you? You speak as though she were your equal," she said coldly, smoothing her sleeve where Liora had gripped her. "She is a slave and that is a fact, whether you see it or not. Facts are not cruelty."

"Facts can be wielded as cruelty," Selene replied quietly, her tone steady. "You knew exactly what you were doing, so don’t think of us as stupid."

She pointed a finger at Vera. "One’s status is not as unshakable as you seem to believe. Fortune turns, and when it does, pray you are shown more mercy than you have given. Let’s go, Liora."

Without sparing her another glance, they left, joining the accepted disciples once more.

Kyva was still on her knees before the Masters, awaiting their final judgment. Due to the comment from the Master from the Ember Quarter, she could already tell her chances were low.

Her fingers trembled as she fought to maintain composure.

She really was a fool.

To think anything would truly get better.

The robed attendant stepped forward, his voice cutting cleanly through the tension that lingered in the hall.

"By the Will of the Masters and in accordance with—"

"Hold."

The single word rang out from the entrance. It was not loud, but it carried across the hall, heavy with authority, and enough to make everyone go still.