Clyde wakes in the morning with his head resting on Meri’s warm thighs.

“Oh!” he gasps in a whisper, realizing that he slept on her this whole time. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he looks at Meri and observes: her eyes closed and at rest, he could hear her breathing softly. Her delicate skin almost glowed with the dim light that shone through the plain room from the cracks of the door. Her little wings resembled the cottonwood tufts that would float through the air back home and collect at the base of the trees near his house, which tickled his nose, but always looked so soft and pure.

She is really pretty…

With the warmth of Clyde’s cheek absent from her lap, Meri’s eyes open. She blinks a bit before looking at Clyde.

“Good morning,” he says gently.

But Meri says nothing in return. She stands straight up, smoothes out her uniform, and walks to the door.

“Thank you, Meri,” Clyde adds quickly.

Meri’s feet pause at the door. “You’re welcome,” she replies over her shoulder after a brief moment before quietly taking her leave.

Clyde lays back on the bed and shuts his eyes. Thankfully, he seemed to sleep rather well throughout the night, despite his horrendous experience the day before. It was the first time he felt truly rested since arriving. Not wanting to face the harsh realities of this world just yet, he continues to rest his body.

Clyde focuses on his breathing, and remembering the feel of Meri’s lap. Though, the more he tried to relax as he had with Meri, the more he noticed how warm the room was. After bearing with it a while more, he hops off the bed.

“I can’t take it anymore, this room is too stuffy!” he grumbles, reaching his hand toward the door. But Airi opens it before he could reach the knob.

“What are you doing?” she asks interrogatively, as if catching her prisoner mid-escape.

Startled, Clyde musters a “Nothing!”

Pursing her lips, Airi moves on. “You’ve been summoned to have an audience. Follow me."

Disappointed that the day is already ruined, Clyde follows Airi into the dining hall with downcast eyes. Once they enter, Clyde gives the room a quick glance. In the center, there is a long table that could easily sit fifty people. At the end of the room, a smaller table sat in front of a large chair on an elevated platform, overlooking the entire hall. A lavish blanket is draped over the ornate chair, which is adorned by exquisite designs.

Seated at the chair was Aithne, and behind her was a woman clad in white and red robes; a delicate, white lace veil covered her face. At the front of the long table sat Mia, Catherine, Meri, and Hayden. Catherine’s father stood off to the side of the table.

Aithne looks up to see Clyde approaching.

“Good, he is here,” she says loud enough for everyone to cease idle talk. Once the room is silent, and Clyde stands before her, Aithne begins.

“Clyde, as lady of this domain, I must administer justice as issues arise among my people. A charge has been brought against you by Garson, the smith of Rosttir. What is your complaint, Garson?”

Garson steps forward, eyeing Clyde with intensity.

He clears his throat. “Clyde, servant of Aithne, lady of Rosttir, violated my daughter, Catherine. He came out of the forest with her clothes ripped and muddied, as seen by myself and several witnesses. He was left alone with her for a time in the forest.”

Aithne nods, and turns her attention to the table. “Catherine, step forward and testify to the events.”

Catherine stands up from her seat, closing her eyes as if remembering a dream. “A goblin attacked us, and I fell into the river. They- Mia and Clyde- pulled me out… I awoke to Hayden, Mia, and Clyde around me. My dress was ripped when I woke up. Hayden was kind enough to cover me with his cloak.”

“Thank you, Catherine,” Aithne says, motioning for Catherine to sit.

“We will now hear from Mia. State your piece and describe exactly what you witnessed, Mia.”

Mia stands up, her hands clasped firmly together nervously. “A goblin was about to attack us- Me and Catherine. We were by the river. Clyde came from the forest and attacked it. After Clyde and I killed the Goblin, I noticed Catherine was gone, so we searched for her. Clyde saw her in the river, and swam for her. I got them out further downstream.

Taking a brief moment for a breath, Mia continued.

“Catherine’s dress was already torn when I pulled her out of the river. When I saw she wasn’t breathing, Clyde said he was going to do CPR… I’m not sure what that is, but he pushed on her chest a lot and kissed her. I then left when he commanded me to find Hayden...”

Clyde scratched the back of his head. Well… I guess that’s one way to describe the procedure.

Shaking his head, Garson interjects. “She couldn’t be dead at that point! She is alive now. Mia left her alone with him and he violated her!”

Mia looks at Aithne, earnestly reiterating her statement. “When I left her, she really wasn’t breath-”

“LIES,” Garson shouts. “Resurrect will turn a person into a husk, if they died for that long. How long did it take you, Mia, to find Hayden and get back?”

Mia looks down. “...Over an hour.”

Garson nods indignantly. “Exactly. That whole situation was a ploy by that” he points a dagger-like finger at Clyde, “piece of shit to get my daughter alone and rape her. I DEMAND JUSTICE!”

“Enough, Garson,” Aithne says sharply. “Hayden, stand to speak.”

Hayden quietly moves his chair back and stands, as Mia sits down disheartened.

Aithne leans forward a bit in her chair. “Was Catherine dead when you arrived?”

“Yes, she was,” he states without hesitation. “Clyde was over her, compressing her chest, when I arrived.”

“Not only did he violate her, but he also killed her before he arrived,” Garson mumbles loudly, his fists clenched so hard the knuckles turned bright white.

Aithne ignores him and questions further. “Hayden, do you think she was dead the entire time? If so, why did she not become a husk?”

“Clyde and I had a conversation before about healing magic and resurrect,” Hayden began, looking down in thought. “He believed that, after 7 minutes, resurrect would not work because the brain would be deprived of air, thus killing it. So, when resurrect was cast on a person, he or she would come back with irreparable brain damage: a husk, or a soulless body.”

Hayden’s eyes met Aithne’s. “I think Clyde’s hypothesis was correct. I believe Catherine was dead the entirety of the hour, in the terms of her heart stopping and not breathing. However, because he did the compressions to work the heart and breathed for her, he was able to keep her mind alive. Although Catherine was dead, her mind was not when I arrived. Thus, the healing magic was able to restore the rest of her body.”

Visibly impressed, Aithne smiles.

“Well, Garson? Do you still wish to proceed with the complaint?”

Garson snorts. “I do, I demand justice without bias. As such, I invoke my right to trial by combat. .”

“There is no need for trial by combat.” She pauses, turning back to face the robed woman. “Saint Perpetua.”

Stepping forward, the woman folds her hands in front of her and bows lightly. Her aura was of a holy nature; it was as if the sun shining through the windows draped her in the sanctity of the heavens.

“I am Saint Perpetua,” she said softly, her voice like honey. “More commonly known to the people as ‘Perpetua, augur of truth. My presence was requested here to act as impartial.

Enamored by the soothing presence before them, all but Aithne and Clyde drop to their knees to bow in reverence. Hayden took special care to take a firm and lowly position in his devotion to the saint.

“I have been blessed by Amare to discern the words of man, I hear the truth speak from amongst the lies. Garson, smith of Rosttir, step forward.”

Garson stands and remains bowed as he approaches Saint Perpetua, his eyes glued to the floor. She and Garson then begin a round of questioning.

“Did you see Clyde take your daughter’s chastity?” Perpetua asked.

“No,” Garson answers respectfully.

“Did he take it?”

“Yes.”

“Did you bear him ill will before this alleged crime?”

“No.”

Perpetua nods, satisfied with Garson’s answers. “Will you accept my judgment, guilty or innocent?”

If Garson’s nose was not already at the floor, he would have bowed lower. “Yes. As a faithful member of the church, I will accept your decision.”

Perpetua looks toward Clyde, and he could feel her gaze pierce through to his heart.

“Clyde, step forward and answer each question with absolute honesty.”

Approaching the saint shyly, Clyde stands before her. Perpetua then lifts her veil, just as a bride would, and an astonished Clyde is frozen still. He could see her hair and eyes, both golden and brighter than polished bronze under the sunlight. Her skin is fair and smooth.

Blessed in truth and beauty. She’s absolutely exquisite!

She notices Clyde’s gaze and asks “Very few men look upon my face. Do you lust after me, Clyde?” She asks, her voice still sweet, yet serious.

Clyde gulps and fights with himself to say no, but she would know that was a lie. “...I do not lust after you; however, I admire your beauty." He replies.

Perpetua smiles gently before continuing. “Have you ever kissed a woman?”

“Yes, one.”

“Was it Catherine?”

“No. I gave her rescue breaths, but I did not kiss her.”

Perpetua squints her eyes slightly, reading Clyde. “What is the difference?”

“Kissing is romantic; rescue breaths are part of an emergency medical procedure. I would never say they are the same thing.”

“Did you rip or tear Catherine’s clothes to see her skin?”

“No. The dress was torn when I was pulling her out of the river with Mia; though, I’m not sure exactly when it happened. But If I did tear her dress, it was not intentionally.”

“Did you fondle her chest?”

“No, I did not. I only compressed her chest, as part of the aforementioned medical procedure.”

Perpetua pauses to study Clyde briefly, observing his calm demeanor while his heart raced inside his chest.

“Clyde, did you take Catherine's chastity?”

“No,” he says, the word racing its way across his lips without hesitation.

“Have you ever slept with a woman?”

Clyde takes the question literally and stoutly replies “Yes.”

Perpatua’s eyebrows raise. “Who?”

“Meri,” Clyde states nonchalantly.

Looking as if slapped in the face, Aithne looks from Clyde to Meri with great hostility.

“Are you a virgin?” Perpetua asks.

“Yes.”

Perpetua tilts her head at the contradiction. “Then, how did you sleep with Meri?”

Clyde shrugs. “I fell asleep with my head on her lap.”

Off in the corner, an embarrassed Meri covers her red face.

Resting a hand on her cheek and giving a slight chuckle, Perpetua smiles, and a relieved Aithne shakes her head.

“Clyde, You have spoken with truth. Not one lie has passed your lips during this examination.” She looks at Aithne with raised brows. “And never have I met a man with such naivete.”

Perpetua covers her face once more with her veil and looks to Garson.

“Garson, my judgment is final and has all the authority of the divine law. As such, I deem Clyde to be innocent of the accused crime.” Shifting her gaze back to Clyde, she goes on “Clyde, you are no man of wanton desires, but rather a hero. You have saved Catherine’s life.”

Clyde steps back and takes a deep breath. Thank God this is all over now!

As if a cloud hung over the great room, Perpetua’s demeanor changed as she addresses Garson once more.

“Garson, you accused the man who saved your daughter’s life of one of the most heinous of crimes- that he had defiled her.”

Visibly shaking, sweat begins to bead across Garson’s face. “I-I truly thought he had...” he stammers.

Perpetua shakes her head. “I have heard the doubt in your original words. As the truth has been received and shared to all present, you now know as well. Aithne will pass the punishment for your crime.”

Garson lowers his wide eyes to the floor, as if life flashed before them. “Please, have mercy,” he mumbles.

Standing from her seat, Aithne declares her verdict.

“Garson, the punishment for false accusation is equal to the punishment for accused crime. Therefore, you will be put to death.”

… What?

An uncomfortable silence fills the room. Clyde looks toward Catherine. Still kneeling in front of Perpetua, she falls to her hands, tears falling from her face. The tapping of the drops hitting the floor was heard by everyone.

“Wait a second. Death?” Clyde asks, looking around the room as if he missed something.

“Yes, Clyde.” Aithne said. “Your life was almost forfeit due to the charges brought against you. And not only that, but Garson wished to invoke trial by combat. If Saint Perpetua were not here, his right would have been invoked, and you would have fought."

Aithne looks back to Garson. “I sentence you to hang.”