Julian took another step forward, the crutches supporting his weight as he approached the center of the hall. He didn't look at the Emperor yet. He didn't look at the dead assassin. He looked at his father.
"Marquis Astrea," Julian said, his voice dripping with a cold, calm poison. "You look disappointed. Were you expecting someone else to walk through those doors? Or perhaps... You weren't expecting anyone to walk at all?"
The Head Judge finally found his voice, though it was weak. "Julian Von Astrea... you are... You are standing."
"I am breathing, at the very least," Julian replied, bowing his head slightly toward the throne, though his eyes never left the Marquis. "And I have a great deal to say about the 'accidents' and 'assassins' that have plagued my recovery."
