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Where moments ago she had been silent, observant—now her presence filled the room as surely as the Emperor's had moments earlier.
"You try to convince yourself and others in this what you're trying to do is for the good of the people but you all clearly have a motive for wanting to get rid of him."
"Rose—" Jurnick tried to tell her to hold her tongue but she simply ignored her emperor.
"A second Hero sounds like a good thing at first but what Hero resorts to simply killing someone when other solutions exist? This directly contradicts what a hero should be." Roseria glanced at Augustus, "Pope Augustus, you are the most knowledgeable so you should be aware, more than myself, that there are measures to exorcising a demon from the body. No longer are we primitives who think burning someone at the stake will free them of eternal damnation by the hands of demons. Such a notion is merely a means to satisfy our sadistic tendencies. Even demon lords fear divine spells, whether cast by the Oracle or not."
It's been almost a hundred years since the last "cleansing" which was essentially a barbaric and naïve form of exorcising—not meant to save the person possessed by the demon, but meant to free the soul itself and kill the demon.
"…" Augustus averted his eyes, unable to refute.
"I know hatred may sometimes blind us, as we know demons can cause suffering. However," she then looked at Ashuron, "Your son did not investigate. He did not attempt containment. He did not seek counsel. He chose to follow his instincts to kill, not his mind so rational was completely absent from his decision."
Her voice hardened slightly. "He ambushed Arnold, who saved them many times in that dungeon, driven by fear and the certainty that his title would absolve him of consequence."
She continued, as no one refuted her. "From what the stories tell us, Prometheus was revered not only because he slew monsters, but because he first tried to understand them. Only when all paths were closed did he raise his blade. This rarely happened—an enemy seeking a second chance, I mean.
"I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, I don't think it matters what Hero Promethius would have done…" Renfry interjected hesitantly, "As we are speaking of demons here, not simple war lords and traitorous nobles."
They are things that cannot be reasoned with without bloodshed, he muttered with a smaller voice.
"I am aware," Roseria replied. "Which is why I ask you this."
She looked around the table.
"When a man resists corruption, refuses its power or seeks to remove it, and yet is still treated as inhuman—at what point does the title of 'demon' become an excuse to stop seeing a person at all? Where does the distinction of demon and factor lay? Is the latter not human because the observation comes from those who lack factors—the demonic power that factors grant us humans? Have you asked yourselves if demons consider Arnold as human or demon?"
She didn't stop, "Or do our opinions matter the most simply because we're humans?"
"…Are you saying Arnold is trying to stop the demon from taking over his body?" Setariah asked.
"That is what he implied when he told me what happened in that dungeon. He wanted the power the demon gave him but when he found out that there are consequences, he stopped using it, thinking it wasn't too late yet. But the demon is able to take control of his body even when he's under a simple mind control spell."
"What if he's lying?"
"You can believe whatever you wish, Queen Setariah. But I will not pretend certainty exists where it does not." She didn't even consider that to be a possibility, it seems.
"I will not lecture adults and leaders how to think but I want you to understand that all of this started because of an immature boy who lacks the needed qualities to be considered a hero or wield the power of one." It may come off as mockery towards the Hero Arthur but she wasn't smiling and her voice was cold and emotionless.
"He is still young! Even if you side with a demon, you cannot deny that!" Ashuron fired back.
Murmurs of agreement spread. In short, agree to see how much Arthur grows. He is only 20 years old, not yet mature to the point where he can rule nations or fight in the frontlines, leading hundreds of thousands of soldiers. Not just that, they have yet to meet him so none of them here, besides those who know Arthur, can grasp his true personality to weigh the risks.
"He has already taken one life—the life of a boy I have cherished, who grew up with my children." Roseria replied after listening to their murmurs. "How many more are required for his growth, Lord Ashuron?"
It was subtle but the disgust and anger was slowly beginning to seep into her words.
Ashuron went silent but his frown deepened at her shooting him down.
Unbecoming of a noble lady and quite disrespectful in a professional setting, Roseria sighed quietly.
"I can see why he wants to settle this with a duel instead of talking it out with all of you. He knows that both all of you and Sir Arthur will never change. If the King from a more powerful nation offers you a chance for salvation, would you not take it?"
"You are speaking of sacrificing a hero." Jurnick finally spoke, glaring at his wife, his hands faintly clenching, "Not fertile and uninhabited land."
"Yes, indeed. But that matters not. Whether we like it or not, the duel will happen and one of them will have their blood drawn. I suggest you have faith in your hero instead of scheming to ambush a man willing to offer a fair fight." Roseria took a look around one last time, "That will be all from me. I hope you all are smart about this. I'm sure none of you would want to incur the wrath of an Ancient Dragon—why do it when it's a man many times stronger than one?"
Her words stung them.
Of course, they know how Arnold was able to kill the Ancient Dragon several times over.
Jurnick had forgotten about that magician who revived the dragon, though. She might also be a problem.
As if she lost interest in them, Roseria stepped back and curtsied, "Please excuse me."
In the midst of that awkward silence, the tapping of her heels was the only sound that echoed before the doors closed.
**
Jurnick ended the conference soon after as things had become too complicated to handle in one day. As such, the monarchs were given rooms in the palace and asked to commence again tomorrow, without the Berkley family present, at least until Arnold's verdict is decided.
The emperor walked the halls, his eyes cold and feet tapping the floor with stomps.
The doors to the imperial chambers closed behind him after he entered.
There was no elegance in his gait, nor the aura of a royal presence. The air around him was wild and his expression looked bitter.
Jurnick stood there, breathing hard, eyes scanning the room.
Roseria remained by the mirror, silently brushing her hair.
On the floor next to the bed were bags that were still not unpacked yet. This could only mean one thing.
"What was that out there, woman?"
"I do not know what you are referring to, Your Majesty." She glanced at him using the mirror, something he considered as subtle disrespect since she's not even turning her body to speak to him.
He could feel his fists tremble but he kept his composure.
"You embarrassed me today. You stood there and spoke over me—as if I were some councilman you could dismiss."
"I spoke because someone had to," she replied calmly, back still facing him, "Even the moderates could not be the voice of reason. I would say it is because of fear of retaliation or falsehoods from the larger nations. Queen Amarene cannot choose a side—not without condemning her kingdom. Whitage sustains her now, by my hand. Still, I'm sure you know a simple alliance that spruced up before this council convened, isn't enough justification to start a war with her." Roseria explained in a single breath while doing her makeup, not even facing her husband as she spoke.
"But sitting through that conference, all reason would have been abandoned and she would have been framed a demon worshipper then taken to a guillotine. Justice or reason does not exist within the minds of cornered animals. They would rather band together to take down the bigger prey, never concede.
"You weren't seeking justice for a fellow human being today—you were defending him, something you would do regardless of his crimes."
Not just her, but Julius as well. Jurnick never really thought it was a big deal that his eldest was like his mother. In fact, this seemed like a good thing since his mother is loyal, smart, and fierce—things you need to be respected in the aristocracy.
If Julius becomes emperor, that's basically Roseria on the throne because the two are so similar to each other that you would think she's pulling the strings behind the scenes.
Ronia is moderate in comparison and would probably not care about the outcome so long as the emperor remains safe so that he may pass on his crown to the victor of the succession war.
He felt alone. Of course, one could argue that his other children and wives might stand with him—but this was not a matter numbers could resolve.
She turned at last. "This has nothing to do with Arnold."
"That's a lie!" His voice echoed off the walls. "You have been blinded by your love for this boy, unable to see the kind of danger he represents for this empire—our home!"
"Dear husband, you know what his letter said." Roseria finally stood up and faced him, approaching slowly, "Honor your end of the accord."
"What accord? He waved his power in front of the entire empire and demanded unreasonable things!" Jurnick's spit flew and blood rushed to his head.
Even now she opposes him.
Roseria looked at him with emotionless eyes.
"…Surely you do not believe that. You refuse to admit that Sir Arthur is a danger to our people simply because he wields the Holy Sword. This is no different to a fief lord believing he can do whatever he wants with his citizens simply because he provides them protection from the monsters beyond the town's defensive walls."
"Woman, you are questioning the Goddess herself…" Jurnick's hands clenched into balls of fists as he tried to sway her stance.
"Gods are not all perfect. If they were, the demon invasion would have never happened."
"You…"
Even using Melis' name could not change her mind.
She still believes Arthur is in the wrong for simply trying to prevent a future disaster, something demons are typically associated with given their desire for chaos.
In that moment, he understood:
She would never yield as opposing him and standing with a demon lord is more important than the empire. In that moment, Jurnick understood—she was not defying him. She was outgrowing him. He would never win against her with reason, never bend her with doctrine, never outargue her without exposing himself as a weak bitter man who can't even control his own wife.
Something in him snapped.
The strike came before thought could stop it.
The sound was sharp, cutting through the room like a blade.
Roseria staggered back, catching herself against the table. Blood instantly leaked from her nose and she held her cheek where the blow landed.
Jurnick stared at his own hand.
For a heartbeat, he looked horrified.
Then that horror twisted into something uglier. He surged forward and seized her arm, fingers digging in painfully as he dragged her closer.
"For twenty years," he hissed, tightening his grip, "you never opposed me. Never confronted me. Never questioned my judgment."
She tried to pull free, muttering "ouch" under her breath.
"Why now?" he demanded. "Why only when that boy is involved do you lose all sense of reason to see the bigger picture?"
Roseria shoved against his chest with all her strength, breaking his grip. He staggered back half a step.
And then his restraint shattered completely.
"Have you yearned for him all this time?" Jurnick spat. "Is that it? Is that why you defend him so fervently? Have you fallen for charm that I lack?"
"…Our marriage was never about love... It was political." Rubbing her forearm, she backed away from him as she answered.
"But you were happy and always said you loved me!" Jurnick spat louder, "How dare you choose the side of someone else above your own husband?!"
Jurnick's arms fell weakly to his sides as his head hung lower, unbecoming of an emperor.
"I don't care anymore," he said suddenly, his voice rising, breaking free of restraint. "I don't care if Arthur is reckless… I don't care if he spills blood! Power is what matters! Power keeps empires standing! A hero strong enough can afford collateral! The people will forgive anything so long as they are safe!"
It was a twisted thing to say—he knew that. But Jurnick has become a believer of "sacrifices are necessary" for Arthur's growth.
That's his answer as to why he stands with Arthur. Even if Luke is against this, Arthur has the Holy Sword in the end, making him the stronger hero.
A crash cut his thoughts short.
The doors exploded inward.
Wood splintered, iron hinges screaming as they tore free from the wall. Before Jurnick could even turn, two red-armored figures entered the chamber. One of them struck him square in the chest. Jurnick was hurled backward, his feet leaving the floor as his body slammed into the marble pillar behind him. The breath was torn from his lungs in a sharp, humiliating gasp. Pain flared across his ribs as he crumpled to one knee, vision swimming.
Another armored figure stepped between him and Roseria. In addition, a shadow coiled around Jurnick's leg, as if it were alive. He could feel a sharp blade press against his throat.
"…If you do not care about the lives of your own citizens anymore… then you are beyond reason." Hand still on her cheek, she said coldly. The eyes looking at him seemed like they were looking at a walking pile of garbage.
That smack from before knocked some sense into him and the reality of the situation finally set in. His face paled but he did not say anything, not even to the knights who dared harm the emperor.
Roseria suddenly fidgeted with her ring finger and took off her ring then she took off her tiara, putting both of them on the table next to each other.
"I will no longer stand beside you," her eyes lingered on the tiara and ring, "Not as your wife, or as the Empress. My council is no longer needed if you cannot be swayed with words. And I will no longer lend my name, my counsel, or my presence to decisions born of fear and pride."
She ordered the knight standing in front of her, "Take my belongings. We will depart for the frontlines where I shall await my Julius' return. After that, we will head to Whitage city once more."
The knight bowed and moved at once.
As she passed Jurnick, she did not slow her steps.
"You have been a husband," she said quietly. "You have been a provider. You have been an emperor. For more than twenty years."
She paused just long enough for him to hear the rest.
"But you abandoned all three long before you ever raised your hand at me."
Then she walked past him.
For the first time in years, tears streamed down Jurnick's face. They fell without sound, without dignity, without anyone left to see them.