Chapter 121: An Encounter
The day of the Kingdom of Silin’s Founding Festival dawned bright and vibrant. Tulip-shaped lanterns adorned streets and buildings, their delicate glow casting a festive warmth, while airships floated overhead, trailing banners celebrating the occasion. For the three days of the festival, people of all ages and stations—noble and commoner alike—reveled in the holiday, indulging in food, games, and merriment.
The only exceptions were Aracila and Damian. From the early morning, they bustled about, ensuring everything was in order. They checked the airships for any issues and inspected the lanterns to confirm they were properly installed. Damian took charge of the town square and streets, while Aracila handled the key landmarks like the imperial palace and the temple.
At the palace, Aracila meticulously examined each lantern, satisfied that all was in place. As she stepped outside to head for the temple, she nearly collided with Frederick, who was flanked by a retinue of knights. He was dressed in a striking red ceremonial uniform, emblazoned with the imperial crest, the vivid hue complementing the clear blue of his eyes.
“Hello, Aracila,” he greeted. “Where are you off to?”
“Oh, Frederick. I just checked the lanterns here—they’re all fine. Now I’m heading to the temple.”
“I see.”
Frederick’s gaze lingered on her, taking in her unadorned face and simple attire. She looked every bit the diligent worker, far more focused on the task at hand than the festival’s revelry. The absence of any sign that she was about to run off to enjoy the day with her husband brought a faint smile to his lips.
“You’re working hard,” he said. “I’ll make sure you’re properly rewarded later, so keep up the good work.”
“No need for that,” Aracila replied with a wave of her hand. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Besides, the airships and lanterns are part of our business. I have to make sure everything’s perfect.”
She didn’t want to squander the opportunity the festival presented, nor risk tarnishing the enterprise she and Damian had painstakingly built. The magical devices they’d developed were a collective effort, with her junior colleagues’ contributions woven into the work. The way she casually referred to herself and Damian as “we” caused Frederick’s smile to tighten briefly, a subtle twist at the corner of his mouth. But he quickly smoothed it into a cheerful grin.
“Thanks, anyway,” he said. “If anything goes wrong, don’t hesitate to let me know. I’ll help out.”
“Got it. See you later, then.” Aracila gave a quick wave and turned to leave.
Frederick nodded lightly and moved on, his knights falling into step behind him like statues come to life, each offering Aracila a respectful bow as they passed. Watching the overly formal procession, she couldn’t help but think, Times like this really drive home that Frederick’s the Crown Prince.
It wasn’t every day she saw the imperial knights, known for their haughty demeanor, moving with such disciplined precision. They reserved such deference for high-ranking imperial figures, and in that moment, Frederick felt less like the friend she’d known since their teenage years at the academy and more like the towering heir to the throne. Not that she cared much about who would inherit the crown.
With a shrug, she turned away and continued toward the temple.
Upon arriving, Aracila methodically checked the lanterns lining the corridors, just as she had at the palace. The soft glow of the tulip-shaped lights filled the sacred space with a warm ambiance.
“Oh, these are just gorgeous!” a voice exclaimed nearby.
“I know, right? I heard magical lanterns are all the rage now. I’m tempted to get one myself.”
“The ones they put up on the streets are amazing. Even at night, it’s not too dark anymore.”
A group of worshippers, there to offer morning prayers despite the festival, paused to admire the lanterns, their chatter filled with delight. Hidden behind a pillar, Aracila overheard their praise, and a proud smile tugged at her lips. All the effort poured into developing the luminescent stones and crafting the lanterns had been worth it.
Buoyed by the moment, she stepped toward the inner sanctum to inspect the lanterns within when a gentle voice called out, “Lady Vandemir?”
A priest with a kind, weathered face approached her. Aracila studied him for a moment before her eyes widened in recognition. “Priest Taylor?”
“You remember me,” he said, his smile warm and genuine.
Of course she did. He was the priest who had notarized her and Damian’s marriage contract. “What brings you to the temple?” he asked.
“I’m here to check on the lanterns,” she replied, gesturing to the tulip-shaped lights. “Damian and I made these magical lanterns.”
Taylor’s expression lit up with surprise. “My goodness, I had no idea you two were behind these marvelous creations. Truly impressive.”
“We worked hard on them,” Aracila said, her tone earnest. “My juniors helped a lot, too.”
Taylor chuckled, a warm, good-natured sound. “You seem to be doing well these days.”
“I am. And you, Priest?”
“By the grace of the divine, I’ve been managing just fine…” His voice trailed off, a shadow of hesitation crossing his face as though something troubled him.
Aracila, quick to notice the shift, tilted her head. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s… nothing,” he said, waving it off.
“That didn’t sound like nothing. If something’s on your mind, just tell me.”
Taylor glanced around, ensuring they were alone, then stepped closer, his expression tinged with reluctance. Lowering his voice to a whisper, he said, “Truth be told, I’ve been wrestling with whether to tell you this… It’s a rather unsettling matter.”
“What happened?” Aracila pressed, her curiosity piqued.
“Someone tried to coerce me into revealing details about your and Sir Vandemir’s marriage contract.”
Aracila’s face stiffened. The contract was a closely guarded secret—how could anyone even know to ask about it? Her mind raced, sifting through a mental list of those who might have the audacity to do such a thing. “Did you tell them anything?” she asked urgently.
“Of course not,” Taylor replied firmly. “As a faithful servant of the divine, breaking a sworn oath would be a grave sin.”
His conviction was unshakable. As a devout priest, he had vowed before the gods to keep the contract confidential, a promise he would uphold even if the Emperor himself demanded answers. Relieved by his resolve, Aracila’s brow furrowed slightly. “Who was it? Who tried to intimidate you? Tell me everything.”
Priest Taylor nodded and began recounting what had happened. From the day he notarized Aracila and Damian’s marriage contract, he’d felt an unsettling sensation, as if someone were watching him. At first, he dismissed it as nerves frayed by his heavy workload. But soon, the appearance of two men confirmed it was no mere illusion.
The pair, polished in appearance, approached him under the guise of being devout worshippers, offering a clandestine deal. “If you tell us what the Vandemirs had you notarize, we’ll make it worth your while,” one said.
“Wouldn’t it be nice to have a generous donor among your flock?” the other added. “We could be those benefactors.”
But Taylor wasn’t swayed by their honeyed promises. To him, trust and integrity outweighed any material gain. It wasn’t for nothing that he’d long been favored as a notary priest. Among his peers, Taylor stood out for his steadfast honesty and incorruptibility. His reputation for discretion—ensuring no secret entrusted to him would ever leak—had earned him the respect of many, making him a trusted figure in the temple.
“I am a servant of the divine,” he had told them firmly. “I will not tarnish the temple’s honor or disappoint the gods for the sake of worldly greed.”
When his refusal was clear, the men’s demeanor shifted. Their tone grew menacing. “It would be in your best interest to work with us, Priest. If you value keeping your position secure.”
“Do you think the temple’s honor or your devotion will protect your life?” the other pressed. “Think carefully.”
But Taylor stood resolute. “No matter what you say, I will not waver. My purpose is to serve the gods faithfully until my final breath.”
Despite their repeated threats, the men eventually backed off, and their visits had dwindled in recent days.
“Do you know who sent them?” Aracila asked, her expression grave.
Taylor shook his head. “I don’t. But their relentless pursuit of your contract troubled me enough to mention it to you.”
In all his years as a notary priest, he had never encountered such bold and reckless behavior. Even high-ranking nobles hesitated to cross a temple priest, yet these men had threatened him multiple times. The audacity felt ominous, and he’d decided to warn Aracila the moment he saw her.
“Thank you for telling me,” she said sincerely. “Damian and I were lucky to have you as our priest.”
“It’s nothing,” Taylor replied with a gentle smile. “I only did my duty as a priest.”
Aracila exchanged farewells with him and stepped outside, her mind heavy with thought. Could the Vandemir ducal family have caught wind of something and started digging? she wondered. But if they knew about the contract right after we notarized it, they would’ve noticed something sooner.
Yet the Vandemir family had never shown any suspicion that her marriage to Damian was anything but genuine, which made the situation puzzling. If they truly knew about the contract, even without its details, they would have used it to pressure her or turn it to their advantage at least once. But they had never so much as mentioned it.
This won’t do, Aracila thought, resolve hardening. I need to get descriptions of those two men and track them down.
Determined to uncover the truth, she spun around to return to Taylor. If she could trace the trail step by step, she might discover who was behind this and how they’d known to target the priest. But when she reached the spot where they’d spoken, Taylor was gone. She scanned the area, searching for him.
Then, from around a corner, she caught the faint sound of voices and moved toward it. But what she found wasn’t Taylor or another priest.
“Help… someone…”
An elderly man lay crumpled on the ground, his voice barely a whisper. Startled, Aracila rushed to his side and gently turned him onto his back. “Sir! Are you all right?”
“Ugh…”
The old man, dressed in an elegant ceremonial robe adorned with intricate embroidery, struggled to open his eyes. His white hair framed a face etched with pain, but when his eyelids parted, his golden eyes gleamed like ripened wheat fields.
“Med…cine…” he rasped, his pale lips trembling.
“Medicine?” Aracila repeated, leaning closer to catch his faint words. “You need medicine?”
She quickly patted down his pockets, but all she found was a handkerchief embroidered with a small bird. Hesitating only a moment, she lifted her head and scanned the surroundings.
There!
A short distance away, a small glass vial lay on the ground, glinting faintly in the light.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
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