One of the stipulations of the late Mr. Coulter's much loved Seven Articles was the abolishment of the King's Court. Now all prominent cases, save those that concerned heresy which were instead handled by the CCD, were to be tried in Church Court. So, thanks to the valiant efforts of her late husband, Marisa sat beside her counsel in front of a former friend, Bishop Augustus (the judge for the London Church Court), being tried today not for her crimes which totaled at none but her sins which were aplenty. The irony of it all was that the 'Article to Restore Religious Justice' was her favourite out of all seven Articles and the one she'd supported with the most rigor. How it had come to stab her in the back!

The trial itself was a shit show.

A televised piece of nonsense which had taken London by storm as it was the first time a lord had been tried in court after the new bureaucratic changes. The salacious news of the affair had spread amongst the capital's elite and each day Marisa would be guided through the crowd that had gathered outside the building only to see familiar faces queuing up in hope of getting a seat in the public gallery. The starring role in this melodrama had been casted to the Church Prosecutor, Mr. Curtis Keating. He was a dog with a bone. In a manner which seemed comical to Marisa, he and his Akita daemon had rolled out a parade of nearly everyone Marisa and Asriel knew onto the witness stand. Some seemed eager to take the seat while others appeared to be more reluctant, the scholars often bound by ecclesiastical law to make an appearance. Nevertheless, many, as Marisa soon came to know, were all too pleased to condemn both Marisa and Asriel to hell with their testimonials. Several perjured themselves as they 'accounted' seeing the couple at unacceptable time and in suggestive poses. The whole experience was a lesson in how paper thin loyalty truly was, not that it surprised Marisa much. And even though her counsel often did object to the lies, it was really just the words of those who characterised their personalities to be free of all sin against a sexually-driven couple who were in the depths of it.

It was a losing battle.

However, there were some redeeming instances.

Sandra Reynolds had sworn that Marisa was the most pious person she knew; a lie but Marisa appreciated the act of solidarity, it seemed she did have a true friend in her after all. The same couldn't be said though for Penny Augustus and Louise Rutherford, who both went to great lengths in explaining how they'd bumped into the scandalous pair at the National Theatre. The pair delving into as much detail as their allotted time would allow them regarding the coat misunderstanding. Oh, it was excruciating and all the time Marisa fantasied about Ozymandias grabbing their little daemons by the neck and strangling them until their last breaths. The Polsteads, who had been obliged to take the stand, blanketed their answers with vagueness. Mr. Polstead had affirmed that the visits made by the defendants that were logged in his Register were true but denied having any knowledge of their activities behind the doors of the Terrace Room.

"No idea, whatsoever?" Mr. Keating had retorted. "It's common knowledge that the wooden floorboards at inns are cheaply made and hence quite thin and those walls are nowhere near soundproof. Are you sure you didn't hear anything, Mr. Polstead?"

"It must be old age, sir," the innkeeper returned. "It has turned these ears into quite an accessory if I'm to be honest."

Bless him.

Despite all these witnesses, Mr. Keating was not to be satisfied until the day the duo themselves underwent his interrogation. And it was on this day, as Marisa took her seat in the witness box, that she could finally fully appreciate the buzz that had gathered around the calamity that is 'Marisa and Asriel' or as the newspapers had shortened it to, 'Masriel'. The jury sat alert in their seats, the court clerk and bishop had turned to angle themselves in her direction, the journalists at the back had their pens to the ready and the public gallery was as still as the sea. Time had frozen. All cameras and eyes were on her, even Asriel's. Marisa smirked inwardly as she ran her fingers through Ozymandias' golden fur, restoring her calm and control.

They wanted a show.

She'll give them a show.

"Mrs. Coulter, before we start, may I offer my deepest condolences. I'm truly sorry for your loss." The prosecutor had scored the first point, making a jab at Marisa's sentimentalities but she'd long since hardened her heart against Edward after she heard Maggie recount how he'd hunted Lyra down. He deserved to die and Marisa wasn't afraid to admit it. As a result, she was able to remain perfectly poised on the stand as Mr. Keating continued. "Why don't you walk us through the series of events that led to today?"

"Very well." Marisa straightened up, steadying both her hands by Ozymandias' sides. "I'd met Lord Belacqua through my late husband at a gathering we had hosted at our residence and, just like anyone, as I got to know Lord Belacqua I was astounded by his success, his conviction and his charm. I'd learnt of his work in the North and eventually decided to propose that he join me on the paper I was working on at the time."

"Yes, yes." Mr. Keating interrupted from his seated position. He filtered through a stack of sheets in front of him before dramatically selecting one and holding it up to his eyes. "'Evidence of Adhuc Maris in Upernavik, New Denmark' written jointly by yourself and Lord Belacqua. As I understand it, you failed to ask any other scholar to aid you even though you'd been working on this paper months prior to meeting Lord Belacqua. Was there a reason for this?"

Marisa sighed into her response. "The world we live in, Mr. Prosecutor, has been made by men for men. A learned woman is almost unheard of, a female scholar even less so. Did you know that out of the 106 colleges in Anglia there is only one reserved for ladies? That being St. So-"

"The point being, Mrs. Coulter?"

"The point being that it's hard out here for women. We only have one shot at life. So when I decided to make mine, I made sure I did it with the best of the best. That being Lord Belacqua, Mr. Prosecutor." Keating seemed to accept this as he dropped the paper in his hand and leaned back into his seat, gesturing to Marisa to continue. "Things remained on track until last September when Lord Belacqua had returned from New Denmark with the conclusion of the expedition. His conduct had changed."

"Had something happened?" Mr. Keating questioned. The room had completely immersed itself in Marisa's words and she heard Ozymandias hum quietly to himself, surprisingly delighted by the attention.

"The only thing that had happened was that Lord Belacqua had succeeded, as he always did, on his expedition. He'd brought back to London evidence of Adhuc Maris," she focused her eyes on the Asriel, from here on out there was no going back, "and with that ammunition to coerce me into doing things I would never normally do."

She watched as Asriel's face soured, understanding where she was going to go with her timeline of events. And although it hurt to betray the man who had only ever loved her, Marisa had witnessed enough betrayal and isolation during this trial to last her lifetime. She'd watched people she knew turn their backs on her and throw more fuel into the fire with hopes of watching her burn at the stake of their forged lies. Crucifying her. How unfair it was. For the only perceived wrong she'd committed was loving a man for the first time in her life and for that, the most human of emotions, she was being persecuted like a witch of Salem. Like she was Jezebel or Esmeralda. If she'd known loving Asriel would have cost her so, she would have barred her heart against it that evening she'd met him. But here she was, with no partial defence to aid her, Marisa was facing the maximum sentence for adultery under the eyes of the Church Court which was stoning until morbidity. And Marisa would be damned if she did not fight tooth and nail to reduce that sentence even if it meant tying a noose around Asriel's neck whilst she was at it.

"So now Lord Belacqua is solely to blame?" Marisa's focus flashed onto the prosecutor as she discreetly gripped Ozymandias' tail like a vice. Mr. Keating's voice was light with humour and it infuriated her. Did he not understand the gravity of the situation at hand? Or did he understand and seek cruel pleasure from it irregardless? She let out a soft exhale and released the tail. She had to keep herself tethered to control or she would lose everything and she had already lost so much.

"No. I have enough self awareness to admit that. Asriel deceived me. Had he told me that he wished to gain something out of aiding me, that being a sexual encounter, instead of leading me on to believe he carried out the favour altruistically, I would have sought another scholar. But this man is the snake in the Garden of Eden and he cloaked his intentions with a good deed, like a second skin, only to ensnare me upon his return."

"Did he physically threaten you?"

"Yes."

"Did he vocally demand you sleep with him?"

Marisa forced her voice to break here. "Y-yes."

"Did you ever try to stop him?"

"Of course… of course I tried," a controlled tear ran down her left cheek whilst she visibly clutched her daemon as if the questioning brought her back to traumatic scenes of abuse "but look at Lord Belacqua's daemon in comparison to mine. There was no possible way I could escape."

"Why didn't you tell someone?"

Marisa made the mistake of looking at Asriel again. She could see unadulterated hurt splayed across his face, raw emotion. She wished she could take it all back and comfort him with a loving embrace and in her momentary daze of regret she let her true feelings bleed into her next words.

"Shame. It was the shame of it all. Before I met Asriel I had never sinned by intent, the fear of The Authority burned through my veins. I still had a clear conscience. But I soon found myself on the wrong path and though it wasn't my fault I took it, I must bear at least some blame for continuing on it."

"And why did you do that, Mrs. Coulter?"

The implication hung in the air. Everyone knew what Mr. Keating was referring to. The only emotion that could make a person act against all rational, against God; the most passionate of feelings. Marisa felt both Ozymandias and Stelmaria peer at her expectantly from their respective positions as if her admitting to her love for Asriel might undo all the things she'd said. But Marisa could not admit it aloud lest she wished to self immolate herself on this stand. And to be honest, she wasn't even sure if-

"I don't know," she mumbled.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that? I couldn't hear you."

"I don't know why," she repeated louder. She tightly closed her eyes, as she felt true tears begin to pool, and counted to three whilst she recomposed herself. When she opened her lids, the prosecutor had stood up.

"Are your feelings detached from you, ma'am?"

"No, Mr. Prosecutor."

"Are you so far removed from your soul that you are unaware of the emotions you feel?"

Marisa shifted in her seat. "I don't think I quite follow your line of questioning-"

"You sit there... in that box and point to a man of more rank and title than you will ever have and cry 'he made me do it'. Take some responsibility." He was walking towards her, his Akita daemon following with his jaw set with malicious intent. "Not once did you try to reach out to a confessional, a family member, a friend. Not once did you display any feelings of remorse or try to repent for your sins. No, you fornicated with Lord Belacqua for months and when your actions bore fruit you lied and said the baby had died." He was by the witness box now, an arm resting casually on its edge as he tilted towards her. "Now why is that? Because you were unwilling to admit your sin. And why is that? Because you were heads over heels in love with Lord Belacqua. And now you sit there and try to cry out wolf. It won't suffice, Mrs. Coulter. It just won't." He finished with a forceful tap on the wooden edge before he turned to return to his seat.

Keating had broken the last element of control Marisa had desperately been holding on to; she was now unhinged.

"I sit here as a woman prepared to take accountability over the fact that I have sinned!"

The prosecutor spun round to face her, surprised the woman still had it within her to fight.

"We have all sinned; some more publically known than others as today evidently proves. But I have come to terms with my wrongdoings and their consequences. Now I implore you to trust a woman who is now willing to change and devote her whole life to serve the Magisterium and walk in the light of The Authority towards complete repentance. I wish no longer to live a life of sin, guilt and regret and to prove my renewed fidelity to The Authority and my detachment from my past ways, I formally revoke any and all maternal claim to Ms. Lyra Belacqua."

Her words had come out in such a rush of emotion void of thought.

What had she just done?