The marble pillars of the hall had once echoed with court music and the clipped heels of noblewomen.
Now, it was filled with microphones, cameramen, and the silent tension of reckoning.
The Spanish national crest hung behind the tribunal: the golden lion and red castle flanking the banner of King Alfonso XIII.
Beneath it sat a long mahogany desk, elevated by two shallow steps, upon which were seated five judges, all handpicked by the crown.
One was a general.
One was a bishop.
One was a civil magistrate.
One was a monarchist philosopher.
And the last… was a German.
No one said it aloud, but everyone watching knew: this was more than justice. This was theater.
And the world was watching.
Dozens of foreign journalists sat beneath the press gallery, notebooks ready, cameras rolling.
Broadcast towers outside Madrid carried the trial live to every corner of the Reich, the Italian Kingdom, and across monarchist-aligned territories throughout Latin America.
