Christia strolled through the imperial palace corridors at an unhurried pace.
All along the way, people who recognized the Pope stopped in their tracks and bowed their heads with deep reverence.
The Pope was, after all, one of the most sacred figures in the Declair Empire at this moment.
No matter that the Emperor was the master of this nation — there was simply no way to govern what lived in the hearts of men.
The High Priest, who had been watching Christia pass through all of this with practiced indifference, finally spoke.
“…Are you truly going to see the Empress without first paying your respects to His Majesty the Emperor?”
“Does the Emperor wish to see me?”
“But still…”
“But still?”
Christia asked with a gentle smile, and the High Priest pressed his lips firmly shut.
Now that the full authority over the temple had passed entirely into the Pope’s hands, there was no particular obligation to show deference to the Emperor.
Moreover, though the two sides had always maintained a mutually beneficial relationship, neither the Emperor nor the Pope could be said to hold any great fondness for the other.
“Today, I am here at the Empress’s personal invitation.”
“Yes. Understood, Your Holiness.”
The High Priest could not quite smooth the worry from his expression, but he nodded and accepted it.
Just then —
“Welcome, Your Holiness. Her Majesty the Empress is waiting for you. I will escort you from here.”
From not far away, a lady-in-waiting who appeared to serve the Empress came hurrying forward and dipped into a low bow.
The nervousness written across the maid’s face was plain for anyone to see.
She must have received many distinguished guests over the years, but it seemed this was her first time receiving someone of the Pope’s standing.
“Would you be so kind as to lead the way?”
“Of course. It is my honor.”
Christia answered with gracious courtesy, and the maid’s face flooded with quiet gratitude as she turned to guide the way.
“Ah, though I should mention… Her Majesty the Empress expressed a wish to meet somewhere other than the Empress’s chambers… I will be taking you to that location instead.”
“May I ask where that might be?”
“…It is the Shrine of the Goddess Rafella.”
The Shrine of Rafella…
It was, in origin, a place established so that the Emperor might answer the Goddess’s summons.
Christia could not immediately understand why the Empress had chosen such a place for their meeting, and yet —
“Is that so? Then that is where we shall go.”
“Yes. Thank you, Your Holiness.”
The maid smiled warmly and turned away.
The moment the name “Shrine of Rafella” left her lips — a place that had been forbidden for some time now — Christia’s expression settled into something cool and unreadable.
⁂
At the very heart of the Declair Empire’s imperial palace.
The Shrine of Rafella.
In a tranquil garden where a great statue of the Goddess stood tall, Karla welcomed her guest with open warmth.
Beside her stood Crown Prince Adrian.
“Welcome, Your Holiness. I did not expect our meeting to come together so quickly.”
Karla studied Christia carefully as she spoke.
It had already been surprising enough that a reply had come so swiftly — but for the Pope to appear at the imperial palace in person the very next day was something else entirely.
Something about it left an uneasy feeling she couldn’t quite name. Still, she had been the one to request this meeting, and so she set her suspicion aside.
After all, she was the one in need of something.
“When Her Majesty the Empress extends an invitation, of course I must come.”
Christia glanced around at the surroundings of the Shrine of Rafella and offered a soft smile.
Sacred energy drifted through every corner of the garden, and yet —
How strange. The holy power residing within the Goddess’s statue is nothing like it once was.
The radiant brilliance that had once poured from the statue in waves of blinding light was nowhere to be seen.
So that is why the Emperor issued the order to close the Shrine of Rafella.
To prevent the imperial family’s authority from crumbling in the eyes of the public.
And yet here was the Empress, defying that very command, receiving a guest within these walls.
How was one to interpret that?
Christia settled into a seat and said nothing, wearing the face of someone who knew absolutely nothing at all.
“Crown Prince Adrian, you have grown so much since I last saw you.”
“Yes, I am a proper Crown Prince now, am I not? He has received no end of praise from the Grand Sage of late — I hardly know what to do with it all.”
“A joy to the entire empire, truly.”
Adrian, seated beside Karla, offered his greeting with practiced ease.
“It has been some time, Your Holiness.”
Christia observed him slowly, taking in every detail.
Brilliant golden hair that could blind in the sunlight, and deep sapphire eyes — there was no question he was a child of the Declair imperial bloodline.
Once the brief exchange of pleasantries had passed, Christia lifted a cup of tea, took a careful sip, and let a gentle smile settle across her lips.
“The imperial household’s tea always achieves something close to perfection. I had heard you cultivate your own tea leaves — now I understand why. This is… almost enviable.”
“If Your Holiness should ever desire it, we can provide as much of this tea as you wish.”
At Karla’s words, Christia paused for just a moment before letting his eyes curve warmly.
She is taking an unusually low posture today.
Christia could not quite make sense of why the notoriously proud Empress would conduct herself this way.
And even less expected was the fact that she had actually brought the Crown Prince, just as the letter had requested.
Whatever it was that the Empress wanted, it had to be something that only the Pope — and no one else — could grant her.
“But… why did you choose the Shrine of Rafella for our meeting?”
“I was under the impression Your Holiness had a fondness for this place. Was I mistaken?”
“That is not wrong, but…”
Christia blinked.
Still, she had no desire to provoke the Emperor’s displeasure by choosing this place as a meeting ground.
A quiet fell over the three of them.
After a long moment, Karla’s eyes brightened and she drew a breath.
“I will come to the point. I understand the temple holds its annual ceremony soon — is that correct?”
“It is…”
The annual ceremony was, in essence, an occasion for noble patronage.
Important guests were invited to attend.
The Emperor and Empress, naturally, were always among them — and so, too, was the individual who stood to become the empire’s next ruler.
More precisely, it was the one whom the temple chose to bestow its support upon.
“Please extend an invitation to Adrian.”
At the Empress’s request, Christia’s brow rose a fraction. She looked to Adrian with an expression that might have been amusement.
Adrian, catching that gaze, flinched and looked sharply away.
“There was an oracle delivered to the temple some time ago. Does Your Majesty the Empress recall it?”
“How could I forget? It was the oracle that descended the very day Adrian was born, eight years ago.”
Eight years ago.
A miracle — an oracle — had come down from the divine.
But the moment it was mentioned, Adrian’s eyes wavered, and the color drained rapidly from his face.
If an oracle had descended on the very day of his birth, there was every reason in the world for him to be glad. So why should he wear such an expression?
Christia tilted his head ever so slightly.
That is not a normal reaction.
He glanced at Adrian once more before turning her gaze back to Karla.
Unlike the Crown Prince, the Empress’s face betrayed nothing — utterly composed.
It was in that composure that Christia felt something quietly, inexplicably off.
“Then you will remember its contents as well. That the Goddess would send her own child into the world so that all things might be returned to their rightful place.”
“…”
“Four years have already passed since that day, and still we have not found the Goddess’s child. It is a source of great regret. To think the Goddess herself gave us a sign, and yet…”
Since then, no word had come of any child born bearing divine power.
Christia found that deeply sorrowful.
If only that child could be found…
“Your Holiness.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“I asked you to invite the Crown Prince to the temple’s annual ceremony. Why are you suddenly speaking of something else entirely?”
Karla allowed her displeasure to show.
“Adrian is the empire’s one and only Imperial Prince and Crown Prince. It is only natural that he should be invited. I am merely asking that the invitation be extended a little sooner than it might otherwise be.”
“Yes, that is so. But if it is a place he will eventually be invited to regardless, what is the urgency in moving it forward?”
“…”
“Ah — of course, the temple always stands in support of the imperial household. Please do not read anything further into what I said.”
There was nothing to be lost in showing the world that the temple and the imperial family stood on good terms.
But at Karla’s sharp and pointed reply, Christia’s eyes lit with a quiet gleam.
“Naturally, our temple would be most pleased to extend an invitation to His Highness the Crown Prince at the annual ceremony.”
Christia spoke the words smoothly, reaching out to take Adrian’s hand as she did.
And in that same instant, a look of unmistakable puzzlement crossed her face.
There was not a trace of divine power to be felt from the Crown Prince. Not a flicker.
How is that possible?
Christia watched with a peculiar expression as Adrian snatched his hand back.
“What is the meaning of this impertinence!”
“Forgive me, Your Highness the Crown Prince.”
Christia offered the fuming Adrian a quiet apology.
Yet her mind had already traveled somewhere else entirely.
The current Crown Prince bore no trace of sacred power whatsoever.
Then who, in all the world, was the true bearer of the divine beast — the child born eight years ago?
