"My dream for when all the fighting has ended is to become a magistrate who helps all manner of people. I want to help nobles and commoners alike settle their grievances." -Maribelle; Dire Damsel-

Often enough Maribelle had said the words in her shepherding days. So often and with such vigor, she got to thinking she might actually be good at it.

She knew all the right people. She was heiress to the Duke of Themis and childhood friend to the royal family. The finest tutors money could buy would vouch for her abilities and the quality of her education, and even supposing that they would not, any superior track judge in the Halidom would jump to hand her a vicinage at the merest suggestion of favor from her Lord-Father.

The dream was most certainly an achievable one, if she willed it.

And so it came as no surprise to anyone when Lady Maribelle received her robe, her gavel, and her commission to hold Court as first magistrate judge for the Southern District of Ylisse. Neither then did the whispers and rumors that surrounded her appointment:

Spoiled brat—she has not earned this.

A weak-willed woman elevated to a station beyond her abilities by a famous father. Nothing more.

She should be hosting tea parties.

She is not fit to sit a judge's bench.

The King's harlot.

Has Chrom taken leave of his senses?

She must have sucked him dry for that commission.

The rumors were as voluminous as they were ugly. They always had been. Maribelle was no stranger to ugly rumors. Talk of improprieties with the King and appointment as quid-pro-quo for a sordid, scandalous affair she paid no mind. For she knew them to be lies and slanders.

Talk of her father's influence opening doors for her that ought not have been opened by way of her own abilities and rumors of her own ineptitude—these Maribelle found more troublesome. For she half-feared they might be true. So it was that with mixed trepidations of fear and excitement Maribelle greeted her first day on the bench.

The Hierarchs had dispatched a personal envoy to oversee the day's proceedings. Rumors of impropriety and incompetence had not escaped their notice; if this new appointment was truly incompetent to dispense justice in the King's name, Chrom would hear of it.

"A word of caution," Hierarch Benedictus spoke down to her with barely disguised disdain. He was an old man of rigid orthodoxies and aggressive chauvinisms; firmly set in his ways and a well-known champion for the rights and privileges of the aristocracy. He thought little of the common men or their sympathizers, less of women, and had very likely himself originated several of the rumors that Maribelle was unfit to do anything more than host tea parties. "It is known that you harbor certain—sympathies—for the peasants. Remember that your duty as magistrate is to the Law of the Halidom. You are not to base your judgments on sympathies or feelings. You are not to grant clemency to lawbreakers where you find normal order of law to be cruel or unjust; a thief who cries and begs and pleads he only stole to feed his family is still a thief. You are to limit your inquiries to the scope of the law and follow the law to the letter. Tell it true—do you honestly believe you are capable of doing this job?"

"What an odd question…" not even for the slightest of moments now did Maribelle second-guess herself or flinch or buckle beneath the Hierarch's scorn. Confronted with this manner of man, everything suddenly seemed so clear.

My dream for when all the fighting has ended is to become a magistrate who helps all manner of people. I want to help nobles and commoners alike settle their grievances. However, in order to achieve this dream, we must first overcome the obstacles before us here.

"…you ask me to always follow the letter of the law; never to let feelings or sympathy for the lawbreaker cloud my judgment. And yet—it is by such feelings and sympathies that you protect the worst crimes of the great houses, is it not?" Maribelle knew of this Hierarch by reputation. For all his self-righteous pomp and indignation, his disgust at leniency for lawbreakers extended only to the common-born.

"Hold your tongue woman!" the barely disguised disdain was no longer barely disguised.

"Do you ask me this because you truly fear I will not follow the letter of the law?" Maribelle challenged. "Or because you fear I will not skew it to your liking?"

"…You forget who you are speaking to…" Hierarch Benedictus seethed.

"I remember exactly who I am speaking to." Maribelle donned her robe of office. "YOU forget that you are speaking to a magistrate judge of Ylisse."

"A sorry day for the Halidom when Duke Themis's brat gets to speak those words. Stupid girl." The Hierarch muttered under his breath, taking his leave from judge's chambers.

"What was that now!?" Maribelle called out after him.

"I said see you in Court," the old man spat.

The first case brought before the judge's bench on Maribelle's first day of judgeship was that of a village boy, accused of stealing grapes from the vinery of a landed noble. The penalties under the law were a fine the boy could not pay, or 60 days in jail, or 180 days of indentured servitude to the begrieved noble.

"I-I-I didn't know m'lday! I didn't know!" The accused was a good lad; sweet and simple and salt-of-the-earth. The poor boy was terrified—rightfully so. Something about him reminded Maribelle of Donnell when they had first met, and for a moment she imagined a younger version of her own husband on trial for some such petty offense.

"But you did take the grapes?" Maribelle pressed. The boy did not deny it.

"I-I-I didn't know it was noble land. Never meant no trespass, I did." The dialect was crude and rustic, but Maribelle understood his meaning well enough. "Been picking berries from that field for generations, we have. Never told no noble owned the place. Shoulda known something was up when grapes started growing, but. B-b-but…" The boy panicked and lost his train of thought.

"Do you have any proof that your family owns the land on which this vinery is situated?" Maribelle addressed the boy's accuser.

"Pardon?" The noble seemed taken aback by the question.

"I have heard testimony here today that the property was in common use for generations before this incident, and that no claim of exclusionary title was ever asserted against the users." Maribelle explained. "This is consistent with my understanding of the metes and bounds of your estate. That is why I am asking you if you have any proof that your family actually owns the land."

"It was recently gifted to us." The noble testified.

"By whom?" Maribelle asked.

"By him! That man—right there!" The noble pointed out none other than the old curmudgeon himself—Hierarch Benedictus—present in court and grinning a triumphant, self-satisfied grin.

"Approach the bench." Maribelle sighed. He is testing me. It is no coincidence that this is my first case. He means to make me punish the boy and prove that I will play his game, or admit that I cannot and surrender my judgeship.

"Your Honor," the Hierarch faux-bowed, with dripping contempt.

"You heard the accuser's testimony that the vinery where this supposed theft and trespass occurred is on land that you personally conveyed to his family." Maribelle recited. "Are you prepared here today to testify as to the facts and circumstances of this conveyance?"

"I am. And I have brought extensive documentation. You'll find that everything in order" The Hierarch testified at length and presented certificates, contracts, notarized memoranda, deeds…

Nooooooo—he can't be this dense. Maribelle reviewed the documents. The error stuck out to her like a sore thumb. Does he really not know what he just admitted to? "You are saying here today that you conveyed this parcel of land…"

"I did." The Hierarch affirmed.

"…and that you warranted to the accuser that you had title to convey…"

"To his family; yes."

"…and they built a vinery on the land relying upon your assurance that you had conveyed good title. Vineries are quite expensive." Maribelle turned again to the accuser. "How much did that cost?"

"120,000 gold" The noble answered.

"120,000 gold." Maribelle repeated, and turned back to the Hierarch. "They spent 120,000 gold."

"Where are you going with this?" Hierarch Benedictus balked. "I will remind you that the magistrate is instructed to limit her inquiries to the scope of the law."

"So I am." The pompous old fool had completely disrespected her authority from the bench and belittled her in open court, but Maribelle ignored the slight. "You call this a 'gift.' Isn't it true that you received payment of 8,000 gold for conveyance of the property?"

"That was a fee for preparing transactional documents and recording the deed. The land itself was conveyed free-of-charge. You are aware that this is a trial for theft and trespass and you have barely even addressed the accused, but spent the entire hearing pestering me on my business dealings, hmmmm?" The Hierarch was losing patience. "It would be a shame if I had to report to King Chrom that you couldn't even manage this one simple case."

"One final question." Maribelle glared. "Are you aware that under theAusteritas Decree of the late Exalt Emmeryn, the subject property was protected common-grounds subject to exclusion from noble title?"

"Auster what-now?" the color drained from the Hierarch's face.

"…which means that you never had title to convey and could not have reasonably believed you had title to convey." Maribelle continued.

"The Austeritas Decree hasn't been enforced since Chrom took the throne!" the Hierarch protested.

"…which means the accused could not have committed trespass or theft of private property, because the subject property is public domain. The accuser cannot privately own and operate his vinery or exclude the general public from it, because he does not hold title to the land. And YOU defrauded the accuser by falsely inducing him to spend 8,000 gold for conveyance and 120,000 gold for development of a property you had no title to convey."

"THIS IS AN OUTRAGE!" Hierarch Benedictus turned red with anger and spewed spittle and made a damn public fool of himself. "I DEMAND A REAL JUDGE!"

"I am a real judge. And while I sympathizewith your position that the law has not been enforced in years and understand why you may feel this entitles you to clemency, the letter of the law is clear. As is my duty. An accomplished man once told me so; I think you might respect him." With that Maribelle took the last air of puffery from the old man, and his ego deflated. "On the subject of respect, I'm sure Chrom would be very interested to hear how you have respected his dear Sister's decree. Surely he does not need to be informed that because it was her law and not his, you don't think you have to follow it—or do you still perhaps believe that this dispute requires the King's personal attention?"

The disgraced Hierarch bowed his head in shame, apologized and said nothing further.

"The charge of theft is dismissed. The charge of trespass is dismissed. The accused is to be released from custody. The accuser is hereby ordered to surrender his vinery and cease excluding the general public from the subject property. Hierarch Benedictus is ordered to pay 256,000 gold to the accuser—128,000 in compensatory damages for accuser's transactional fees and costs of property development. 128,000 in fines and penalties for fraudulent conveyance, unjust enrichment, and conspiracy to defraud the Halidom of public domain. The judgment shall so issue!" Maribelle pounded her judge's gavel and called for the next case.

That was the first time Maribelle ever held Court as magistrate judge.

That was the last time anyone ever questioned her competence to sit a judge's bench or dispense the King's justice.