Desire (1)
“Haa……”
Artisia collapsed into the chair in her office, letting out a deep sigh. The room was deathly silent. She had dismissed all her aides and maids. She didn’t even want to hear anyone else’s breathing right now. The only things that should fill this space were her, the piles of documents, and the voice echoing in her ears.
I’m fine.
No. That couldn’t be true.
Artisia shook her head. As an imperial princess, she had observed several church trials. In her memories, every single person seated in the defendant’s chair had screamed hysterically, begging pathetically to be spared or admitting their wrongs. It must have been an unbearable agony.
“……Ugh.”
Artisia let out a low groan as a pain like her chest was being wrung out gripped her. She could guess why Elijah had said that. The church was clearly rushing things. The trial had been held after just four days, and witnesses and evidence had poured out as if they’d been waiting. Yet the victim herself—the most crucial witness, the Saintess—still hadn’t regained consciousness.
……Someone inside the church did this.
But who would dare touch the Saintess? Elijah was her fiancé, too. Was there someone who harbored enough grudge against him to risk making enemies of both the church and the empire?
Artisia furrowed her brow. No. There was no such person. Everyone in the empire knew how hard Elijah had worked to reach that position.
But……
Artisia swallowed dryly. Elijah had fallen neatly into the trap and was now a criminal. She was the only one left who could stand by his side. So she had to make it work.
Artisia straightened her posture. Then she began sifting through the mountain of documents stacked on her desk, one by one. Were there any clauses that could nullify the church trial’s verdict? Any grounds for the imperial family to intervene? Any precedents of excommunicated individuals being reinstated?
She pored over church law, imperial constitution, and historical casebooks all through the night, but the conclusion was singular.
None. There’s nothing. Nowhere.
There was no loophole allowing the imperial family to interfere with a church verdict. The church’s judicial authority was thoroughly separated from the imperial judiciary.
—The church handles its own internal matters.
It was all because of that damned “sanctuary” privilege the imperial family had granted the church centuries ago. With the Pope himself pronouncing guilt, overturning it would require dismantling the agreement between empire and church entirely. And the current imperial family lacked the power for that.
Crack.
Artisia stared at the pen that had snapped in her hand. Black ink splattered across the back of her hand like blood.
“……Ha.”
Artisia exhaled coldly. The empire’s little sun? Heir to the throne? What use were such titles? When she couldn’t even protect her own lover.
In the end, Artisia didn’t leave her seat until the morning sun rose.
The next day, Artisia went to see the Emperor. Her audience request was approved immediately. That alone was an ill omen. It meant he had known she was coming and had been waiting.
Before Artisia could even speak, the Emperor pierced her with a chilling gaze.
“Sit.”
“Father, Elijah is innocent. This is clearly a trap. I’ve investigated it myself—”
“I said sit, Artisia.”
Her heart plummeted at the low, commanding tone. Artisia sat silently in the seat he indicated.
The Emperor looked weary. But his eyes held not a flicker of hesitation.
“The Pope himself declared him guilty. The dice have already been cast.”
“The ratification trial is still to come. The palace decides the disposition there. At least a reduction in sentence……!”
The Emperor shook his head.
“No one is unaware of your relationship with Sir Verdin.”
He rose and stared out the window.
“The moment you act, it becomes the imperial family challenging the church’s authority. Do you think the people will support a princess shaking the empire for her lover?”
“What kind of imperial family can’t even protect one of its own from false accusations?!”
Bang!
Artisia slammed the desk without thinking, her voice erupting in fury. But the Emperor didn’t rage. He regarded his daughter with eyes utterly indifferent, ruthlessly cold.
“The empire comes before any single knight. Isn’t that the duty you’ve learned your whole life?”
“……That one knight is my fiancé. He’s everything to me. Please, please… Father……”
“Which is precisely why it’s impossible.”
The Emperor approached and stood before Artisia.
“If you step forward, the church will declare war. Do you believe we have the strength to face them now?”
Artisia had no rebuttal. It was a devastatingly clear truth. With even the Emperor shaking his head, a mere princess’s struggles wouldn’t topple the church’s massive wall. She knew that. And yet, she wanted to cling to hope.
“Wait. In time, a way may appear.”
The Emperor turned slowly. Someday, the time would come. Wait, and a path would open. He always said that.
But.
What use was that time if Elijah wasn’t by her side when it arrived? His warmth embracing her, the tender touch of his lips, that shy smile. Would she have to watch it all cast into the abyss?
Artisia bowed her head, suppressing her crumbling heart.
“……Understood.”
The moment she left the audience chamber, her legs gave out. Artisia leaned against the wall in the empty corridor. A future emperor must not show tears. She had never once broken that rule.
Hot tears trailed down her cheek. She wiped them away roughly and lifted her head.
Wait for me, Elijah. I’ll save you, no matter what.
Artisia had no intention of giving up here. If the imperial family’s power wasn’t enough, she’d prove the church trial was unjust.
Her eyes gleamed sharply.
For the next three days, Artisia moved like a beast in the shadows. She tracked the missing priest’s whereabouts. Dug into the witnesses’ backgrounds, backtracked the night’s movement routes, scoured church access logs. But the deeper she delved, the thicker the wall of despair grew.
The priest was a ghost that never existed. No one matched Elijah’s description of him, no records, no memories.
The witnesses were hidden under the church’s ironclad protection. Some clamped their mouths shut, others fled in fear at the sight of her, and some had already vanished.
In the end, with no proof of Elijah’s innocence, Artisia turned to the Cardinal in desperation, grasping at straws. Excluding the Pope and Saintess, he was the church’s highest real power. If anyone knew the mastermind behind this, it would be him.
“What brings Her Highness all the way here?”
The Cardinal received Artisia courteously. But that was the extent of it.
“I fully understand Your Highness’s concerns. However, this is a matter the Pope has already judged personally.”
“……There are testimonies placing you near the palace that night.”
The Cardinal’s eyebrow twitched faintly.
“You must be mistaken. I was at my residence that night. There are records and witnesses.”
“Those witnesses—”
“Your Highness.”
The Cardinal cut her off quietly.
“Suspecting the innocent creates unnecessary rifts between the imperial family and the church. And it’s obvious who those rifts would target.”
The Cardinal smiled affably. A threat, neatly wrapped in politeness.
Artisia wanted to know what lay behind that smile. But she had no blade to thrust at him now.
She rose from her seat.
“……Thank you for your time.”
As she left the room, Artisia hid her clenched fist behind her back. She kept it balled even as she walked the corridor, even as she boarded her carriage. If she opened it, she might shatter.
The church trial and the empire’s ratification trial served different purposes. The church judged sin from a divine perspective, while the empire debated the criminal’s treatment under secular law.
So, if there was no way to prove the accused’s innocence…
Elijah can’t escape punishment……
Reaching that bitter conclusion, Artisia had to make a choice. To save his life at the ratification trial in a few days, she needed to send a signal to the church. That the imperial family was washing its hands of the matter. That Artisia von Ravenica was abandoning Elijah Verdin.
‘Engagement Annulment’.
The four words on the document stabbed her eyes like a blade. Artisia stared at them for a long time. A cowardly choice—pretending to abandon him to preserve his lifeline. Elijah might feel betrayed. She had promised to find a way. Promised to come for him.
‘Wait for me,’ I said……
Tears fell from Artisia’s eyes in drops.
She wanted to tell him. This isn’t betrayal. It’s the only play to keep you alive. Just wait a little longer, please.
But visits to Elijah were flatly refused. Letters, verbal messages, even contacts through aides—all blocked. The church had isolated him completely, intent on strangling him slowly.
On the day of the trial, he would hear her words without knowing any of this.
“……Just stay alive, Elijah.”
She could explain later. Even if he never forgave her, as long as he lived.
Convincing herself like that, her fingers still froze every time they touched the document.
It doesn’t feel real that we’ll be married next year.
Elijah’s embarrassed smile kept fading in her mind. Artisia gazed out the window. Spring seemed to have ended. The last petals scattered on the wind, vanishing.
That was when it happened. Her aide knocked urgently on the door.
“Your Highness, the Saintess has awakened.”