Chapter 40

It was a relief that the judge didn’t have a staff on hand.

Elena’s expression was so icy and terrifying that it wouldn’t have been surprising if she lashed out at Viretta on the spot.

However, Viretta, who had endured more than her fair share of cold stares, didn’t flinch in the slightest.

Instead, she pressed her attack without hesitation.

“It’s simple. Your daughter won’t become the exceptional mage you’re expecting her to be.”

“What did you just say?!”

“It begins! In the blue corner, Miss Viretta launches her attack! And in the red corner, Mrs. Elena appears ready to explode! When it comes to children, it’s hard to stay calm!”

Viretta waited patiently for the commentator’s theatrics to finish before locking eyes with Elena.

“Let me be clear. Lucy will not become an exceptional mage. In fact, she’ll likely struggle to become a mage at all.”

“Watch your mouth. What do you know about my daughter to spout such nonsense?”

“Oh! The attack lands! Miss Viretta Medleidge scores the first point!”

Elena’s murderous glare, which seemed ready to tear Viretta apart, miraculously softened. The rage that should have been directed solely at Viretta had been split between her and the commentator.

The commentator, despite absorbing the full brunt of the battle-mage’s fury, didn’t drop his wooden funnel, earning him silent admiration for his professionalism.

“She won’t,” Viretta reiterated.

“She will! Lucy will become an exceptional mage. I’ll make sure of it!”

“And why do you believe that?”

“Why? You wouldn’t understand. You don’t have children. It’s only natural for a mother to believe in her child.”

“That’s not belief—it’s wishful thinking. Lucy is three years old and hasn’t shown any promise yet.”

Viretta’s tone was as cold as a midwinter’s frost as she stared at Elena.

To an outsider, her expression might have appeared indifferent, but to those who knew her, it was shockingly frigid.

In contrast, Elena’s face was visibly flushed with anger, the kind that only a parent feels when their child is criticized.

Elena barely remembered they were in a courtroom and chose her words carefully.

“Fine. I don’t know for sure yet. But I’ll believe in my daughter and give her my all. Not just Lucy, but my second and third children too. If they’re my children, I’ll believe in them unconditionally and help them become great mages.”

“And if they don’t?”

Viretta swiftly cut through Elena’s lengthy response.

“If they can’t even become ordinary mages, let alone exceptional ones?”

“I believe in my daughter.”

Elena clenched Lucy’s small hand tightly, causing the child to let out a soft whimper as she clung to her mother’s leg.

Viretta, unmoved, pressed on mercilessly.

“You believe in her, but what if she fails?”

“Lucy can do anything. Even if she doesn’t become a mage, she’ll excel at something else—like managing magical tomes or—”

“And if she doesn’t?”

“Why are you saying this? Are you calling my daughter incompetent?”

“And if she is?”

Elena stopped grinding her teeth and stared icily at Viretta, who continued to pull at her words relentlessly.

Although Elena no longer exploded with anger at every sentence, her gaze was sharp enough to cut through steel.

Her eyes screamed, Let’s see how far you’ll take this, as she fixed her stare on Viretta.

“What if she grows up with a normal woman’s physique like you but inherits the count’s timid nature and lack of magical aptitude?”

The atmosphere grew tense enough to make even the count swallow nervously.

The once-chatty commentator fell silent.

Viretta, undeterred, pressed forward at full speed.

“What if she ends up just a pretty and demure young lady?”

Society was full of such young women—polished on the outside but ordinary on the inside.

In noble circles, nine out of ten well-off young ladies followed this trajectory, growing up to be nothing more than proper women of modest ambition.

“What if she marries a kind, wealthy man and spends her days raising children, contributing nothing remarkable to the world?”

And among them, seven out of ten ended up marrying someone who could provide a comfortable life, bearing children, and living uneventful lives.

“What if she avoids marriage and children altogether, misses her prime, and ends up living alone in a secluded house, subsisting on the inheritance you leave behind?”

By this point, Elena was trembling with rage, saying nothing.

She was sharp enough to see where Viretta was heading with her argument.

“Do you realize that the future I’m describing is far more probable than her becoming an exceptional mage?”

Viretta didn’t look down on such women.

To her, they weren’t failures but simply ordinary people, as common as noblemen who gave up childhood dreams of knighthood to live as plain gentlemen.

“Not everyone is exceptional. Being special is rare—a truly precious thing.”

She knew this better than anyone. In the glittering kingdom of merchants, she had always been on the ordinary side.

“Every child in the Medleidge family is given immense resources, just in case they show potential. But only one in ten ever lives up to expectations.”

Viretta had been one of the nine who didn’t.

Her father, despite his disappointment, still cared for all his children, lavishing them with wealth and protection.

“You expect your child to meet your lofty ambitions as if it’s a given. Do you know how crushing that pressure can be?”

Yet, she continued with no pity in her tone.

“Parents’ expectations weigh heavily on children. And here you are, refusing to accept the possibility that Lucy might just be ordinary.”

At last, Viretta turned her gaze from Elena to the judge.

“The focus of this trial shouldn’t be the parents. It’s about Lucy. If this is a custody case, then her well-being should come first!”

The audience began murmuring, their silence broken.

“Hm… Hm…”

The judge, taken aback by Viretta’s argument, nodded slowly.

“You have a point… This isn’t just a divorce case—it’s about a child’s future.”

He raised his gavel, signaling a turning point.

At that moment, Viretta had revolutionized the way custody cases in Filian would be argued.