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turn around. She’d continue to go out where everything was quiet, where no marketplace pulsed with life, a place wholly unlike the town hall looming in front of her right now. It was almost like her skin was on fire as everyone gawked, trying to determine whether the accusations were true. Did she really stir up a batch of poison and murder an innocent unborn child? Faces loomed in front of her, appearing and disappearing from her field of vision. She was startled when one of the guards cleared his throat; she gazed at him nervously.
    “You’ll need to go upstairs now,” he explained. “The doors to the courtroom are open.”
    “Thank you,” Madlen croaked; her voice almost failed altogether. She gathered up her skirts and climbed the stairs as the guards’ looks burned into her back. Was this the baby murderer?
    Madlen heard some voices and turned around when she reached the end of the hall. Constables struggled to hold back the people trying to secure the best seats. Madlen’s throat was dry as she entered the courtroom, and she was relieved to catch sight of Andreas von Balge, who immediately strode toward her.
    “You’re here. I must say, you look perfect. Conservatively attired. Exactly right.”
    Madlen’s head spun. She just nodded and let him lead her to her seat.
    “I’m here beside you. I won’t let anything happen,” he reassured her. Unfortunately, his words fell on deaf ears. It seemed to him that Madlen wasn’t able to hear a word he said. “Is everything all right? You look pale.”
    Madlen stared at him. Pale? What was he thinking? That this was going to be a breeze for her?
    “I know what you’re thinking,” he continued. “Don’t worry. I’m not taking this lightly,” he said so softly that only Madlen could hear it. He leaned in closer. “It’s important that you smile and radiate certainty that an acquittal is imminent. Appear to be surprised over what you’ve been accused of, although you already know. Believe me. Those who win their cases have to convince the sheriff and the jury of their innocence. And above all”—he raised his index finger—“the winner is the one the jury wants to see win. Nobody wants to see someone trembling with fear.” He looked at her urgently. “Smile.” He touched her lips.
    Madlen tried, but it was impossible. The advocate pinched her arm.
    “Ow!” she said indignantly.
    “Smile right now, or I’m going to leave the courtroom.”
    She opened her eyes wide. Very slowly, she raised the corners of her mouth, at first hesitantly, then a little more, until she beamed brightly at Andreas von Balge.
    “Very good,” he said, then turned to the front door as more and more people poured in. Matthias Trauenstein was not among them. Andreas turned and put his mouth close to Madlen’s ear. “Listen to me. Can you see the table facing us?”
    She nodded as she continued to smile.
    “Soon, Lord Trauenstein will take his place there. And there in the front”—he pointed with his chin—“the sheriff and the jury will sit together at a long table. It’s important to listen to them. You should take careful note and nod repeatedly when they ask you something as a sign that you are listening closely. However, when Matthias says something, shake your head almost imperceptibly, as if every single word he says is a lie.”
    She stopped smiling briefly. “As if every single word he says is a lie,” she noted, then again tried on a cheerful demeanor.
    “Very good. That was very good.”
    Madlen sighed. This man drove her crazy.
    “Once Matthias starts to testify, make sure you gaze out over to the spectators in the courtroom as you listen in disbelief to the lies of your accusers. You need to connect with the people in the room. Do you understand that?”
    “Yes, I understand.”
    “Good.” He poked her lightly. “There he is.”
    Immediately, she turned toward the door, where Matthias Trauenstein appeared. Her accuser gave her a withering look.