"I demand to speak."

The audience turned their curious eyes towards the young girl at the centre of the room. Raising her slender arm, she gestured for silence.

"Please listen to me," she began, her demeanor calm yet proud. "I can vouch for Citizen Quenet. My family used to know him well in Rouen. He was no aristocrat. He was a poor painter who lived in a poky inn with people in worn-out trousers. His sleeves had holes, and his shoes were patched.

"I witnessed him skipping meals, yet helping homeless children with the only coins he had! Quenet is more innocent and righteous than anyone else present."

Beside her, Philippe stood onto a chair, stretching his arm. The candid young man raised his voice to address the entire room.

"I, Philippe Percy, also guarantee Citizen Quenet''s repute! The accusations against him are either the slander of hypocrites seeking to conceal their own infamy, or the foolish belief in ridiculous lies spread by cheaters!"

The club fell silent for a few moments before a man''s voice suddenly cried out, "Vive Quenet!"

Soon, more and more people began shouting with fervor, "Vive Quenet! Vive Robespierre!"

Edith looked up at the podium with relief, meeting Andre''s gaze from behind, who shared a knowing smile with her.

After leaving the club, Andre expressed his gratitude to the siblings.

"I was just telling the truth," Philippe laughed heartily.

"Thank you, Edith," Andre looked directly at the girl. "You are truly brave."

"I guess I''ve returned the favou