Christia’s gaze drifted briefly to the imperial palace growing smaller in the distance as the carriage carried her back toward the temple.
“How curious.”
Her soft, melodic voice floated gently through the quiet interior of the carriage.
A moment later, the sound of voices from outside made her tilt her head toward the window.
“Your Holiness! Please, just one look over here!!”
“Your Holiness, my child is ill — if you would only take their hand for a moment—!”
“I was here first…!!”
As the Pope’s carriage passed through the streets of the capital, people came rushing out from every direction, crying out in a clamor.
“Good grief.”
Christia clicked his tongue in something resembling sympathy and gestured to the High Priest beside her.
“Go and tend to them, High Priest.”
“…Pardon? Y-Yes, of course. Your Holiness.”
The High Priest, having been singled out, wore a mildly flustered expression — but the people who had overheard Christia’s words lit up with gratitude.
“Your Holiness! Thank you. Thank you so much!!”
“May the Goddess be with you.”
With those words, Christia closed the carriage window. The moment he did, his brow furrowed in irritation.
“Every last one of them — they give nothing, and yet all they want is to take.”
It grated on him. People simply assumed the temple existed to give unconditionally, to pour itself out endlessly as some kind of sacrifice.
Christia shoved his hair back with an irritable hand and closed his eyes.
Wherever he went, there were only those eager to siphon his divine power as cheaply as possible.
After a moment of stillness behind closed eyes, he let his thoughts drift back to what had occurred at the imperial palace.
“A Declair bloodline without divine power.”
Was that truly something so impossible?
Even the current emperor’s divine power was no more than faint and negligible…
No. Even accounting for that, something feels off.
Had the Goddess not delivered a divine oracle the very year the Crown Prince was born?
The content had admittedly carried a certain unsettling quality she couldn’t quite name.
But regardless — the sacred power that had descended in that moment had been overwhelming enough that it nearly blinded every witness who beheld it.
And a sacred beast was born at that time as well…
From its appearance, it didn’t seem to be the sacred beast most beloved by the Goddess…
The one most cherished by the Goddess was said to be of enormous size — capable of subduing impurity in a single instant.
Still, the birth of a sacred beast after more than a hundred years of silence was, in itself, a matter of tremendous significance.
Come to think of it… Christia recalled something he had been hastily informed of just before entering the imperial palace.
“The trial between House Kineart and House Arachrene is tomorrow, it seems.”
“Both ducal houses appearing openly in court? And the imperial family hasn’t moved to restrain it?”
“No. It is rather peculiar, isn’t it. …Apparently, tensions between the two have been running high over that theatrical production that has been drawing so much attention of late. Perhaps the imperial family is deliberately allowing it to unfold for precisely that reason.”
Christia’s eyes snapped open.
Two ducal houses clashing over something so absurd — and the imperial family remained perfectly silent.
That bothered her.
On top of that, House Willias had also been exhibiting strange movements of late.
The reports suggested its actions seemed distinctly separate from those of House Kineart — as though operating on a different track entirely.
“Another prince…”
Christia, who had been resting his chin in his hand, went suddenly still.
“Could that actually be true?”
Eight years ago — had there been another prince born, alongside the Crown Prince?
If that were true…
“Ha.”
For a moment, Christia sat in a stunned, blank expression, as though the sheer audacity of the idea had temporarily short-circuited her.
Then—
“…Ha-ha!”
A burst of bright, unrestrained laughter erupted inside the carriage. The holy knights standing guard outside exchanged bewildered glances, and one of them cautiously knocked on the door.
“Your Holiness… is everything all right in there?”
“Perfectly fine. Ha-ha — hahahaha!”
Christia doubled forward, clutching his stomach, laughing until he could barely breathe. When he finally composed himself, his eyes gleamed with sharp clarity.
Could it be that Sion Senuart’s mysterious disappearance was connected to this very thing? That he caught the scent of it?
The ever-troublesome Sion Senuart, who had always tolerated the temple’s surveillance as little more than an annoyance, had gone uncharacteristically dark — vanishing without a trace.
It was possible he had begun moving in secret the moment suspicion of another prince entered his mind.
Or perhaps there was some other, unspeakable reason entirely.
Whatever the cause, she could not see this as entirely unrelated.
“So then what does that mean for me. …What a delightfully complicated situation this has become.”
The corner of Christia’s mouth curved upward.
For now, she found herself very much looking forward to the trial that would begin tomorrow.
⁂
Riersha was tremendously busy.
That is to say…
Packing had given rise to a cascade of unplanned obligations, one after another.
“…Are you seriously going to bring all of this? We leave tomorrow.”
“Of course! Some of it has already been sent ahead to the townhouse, but that still isn’t enough.”
“…Again?”
“We have no idea how many days we’ll be staying in the capital…. I simply can’t have Lady Riersha suffering any inconvenience!”
Riersha stared at the passionately dedicated Sona with an expression of mild alarm.
They had already sent several boxes ahead to the townhouse. And that wasn’t enough?
Her round eyes wavered uncertainly.
“…No, no, what we have now is p-plenty! More than plenty!”
“But, Lady Riersha. Do you have any idea how much public attention this trial is drawing?”
“…”
“Which is exactly why, in my opinion…. We now have our very own personal tailor, so every one of these outfits ought to be seen at least once. You absolutely cannot afford to fall behind.”
“…”
Why on earth was her passion being directed toward this particular cause?
Riersha shot Oberon a desperate look, silently pleading for him to intervene.
Oberon had, in fact, come to see her specifically to go over what she needed to know before tomorrow’s trial.
And yet—
“I see. Appearances are not something to be dismissed lightly, after all.”
“I knew you’d understand.”
“It is, in its own way, one of the means by which you demonstrate composure to your opponents.”
He was supplying perfectly reasonable-sounding justifications and siding with Sona without a moment’s hesitation.
Riersha had fully expected him to be displeased about having his briefing interrupted like this.
She turned a deeply betrayed gaze on Oberon.
“You said there was stuff I was supposed to know.”
“Now that I think about it, none of that is truly necessary. I should have prepared everything so that Lady Riersha wouldn’t need to worry about a single thing herself. The fault lies with me.”
“…Oberon!”
“There is only one thing Lady Riersha needs to say in that courtroom tomorrow.”
Oberon raised a single finger in emphasis.
Riersha swallowed nervously.
“‘Honorable presiding judge.’”
“‘Honorabwul presiding judge.’”
“…”
“…”
“‘I stand before you today to bring to light a truth that everyone should have known long ago. Please grant me but a moment of your time.’”
“‘I stand before you today to bring to wight a twuth that everyone should have known wong ago. Pwease gwant me but a moment of your time.’”
She was doing her earnest best to repeat after him, syllable by syllable.
In the middle of it, Oberon — who had been watching her quietly — turned his gaze away and pressed a hasty hand over his mouth.
Several seconds passed. Then he turned back with a perfectly composed expression.
“Exceptionally well done. That will be more than sufficient.”
“…Really?”
“Yes.”
Riersha gave him one long, suspicious look.
Then she glanced back and forth between Sona and Oberon, and let out a small, pained sound, pressing her fingers to her forehead.
This is a problem.
In truth, she had gone over all of this numerous times already, which meant there was genuinely little left for Oberon to add. And just as he said, the number of things she would personally need to say before the court was only a handful of lines.
…Which was precisely what made it worse.
Here he was, praising her over something this trivial.
I can’t help feeling like everyone around me is becoming impossibly indulgent…
She was starting to genuinely worry that all this coddling might end up spoiling her rotten.
Riersha stared at the mountain of boxes for a moment, then suddenly said, “Oh!” and looked up.
“How’s Isierd doing? He’s all ready to go, right?”
“Hmm. Young Master Risideon said everything is in order on his end. Well, he would have been ready long before any of us, really. There isn’t much for him to take from here as his own, after all.”
“Oh…”
Right. Of course.
Isierd had nothing here that could be called his.
Why had she only been thinking of him as busy? Why had it never occurred to her until now?
He might have simply been waiting, quietly, for the day to come when he would return.
“There’s nothing for him to bring back…”
“That’s right. Everything here was nothing more than the young lord’s generosity, extended to him temporarily.”
“I see. Yes… yes, that’s true.”
She couldn’t explain exactly why, but something about that felt terribly sad.
Riersha sat with her thoughts for a moment, then decisively pulled open the desk drawer.
Inside sat a small collection of gleaming, high-quality Serinel gems she had set aside as extras.
