* * *

The “Gazette” the Pope mentioned was none other than Hadelber Kingdom’s largest newspaper.

Its scale was so vast that nearly half of the newspapers distributed throughout the kingdom were published by the Gazette.

As it turned out, even the gossip magazine Sehir had shown me came from the Gazette.

When the Pope advised me to visit the Gazette if I faced overwhelming troubles, I had expected there to be something special about it.

However, after a few days of investigation, I discovered it was just an ordinary newspaper.

A typical publication obsessed with sensational stories and gossip.

Other than the fact that its editor-in-chief was an acquaintance of the Pope, there was nothing noteworthy about it.

“Sigh.”

I let out a heavy breath as I tilted the watering can.

A gentle stream of water trickled from its spout.

I had come to the garden to clear my mind by watering the flowerbeds.

After finishing my morning prayers, I found myself with some free time—there were no confessions scheduled for once.

Sitting idle only caused my thoughts to drift back to recent events, so I needed to keep busy.

Pressing my fingers to my temples, I massaged the spot to ease my nagging headache.

Strangely enough, the action seemed to help alleviate the dull pain.

How did I end up entangled in such a mess?

Initially, I had resolved to let the matter rest after warning Kaindel about the danger.

Yet, I couldn’t stop thinking about that conversation.

The more I dwelled on it, the clearer it became that if Kaindel was involved, so were his companions Owen and Sehir—and by extension, so was I.

There was no way I could remain uninvolved.

“Hmm.”

As I brushed my fingers over the vibrant flowers, I felt a sense of peace in the serene atmosphere.

Whenever temple life became overwhelming, I found myself instinctively drawn to the garden.

Why did the Pope suggest visiting the Gazette?

I murmured internally as I placed the watering can beside the flowerbed.

Could he be aware of Viscount Chernian’s schemes and wanted me to investigate, or was it simply a recommendation out of familiarity with the place?

If the capital’s rumors were true, visiting the Gazette might do more harm than good.

It was also possible the Pope, unaware that my concerns were connected to Kaindel, had merely suggested the Gazette as a general resource.

For now…

Just as I tried to organize my scattered thoughts, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

Startled, I turned to find a junior priest who must have approached unnoticed while I was lost in thought.

“Priest!”

“Oh, yes?”

The junior priest’s voice brought me back to reality.

Apparently, I had been so deep in thought that I didn’t hear his footsteps.

“What’s the matter?”

“There’s been a change in your schedule today, so I came to inform you.”

“A change in my schedule?”

“Yes.”

This was the first time my schedule had ever been altered.

I tilted my head in confusion as I took the updated schedule from the junior priest.

At the top of the sheet, under my name [Isaac], my afternoon appointments were neatly listed.

The two-hour break after lunch remained as I had seen earlier in the morning.

However, a line was drawn through the confession session that was supposed to follow.

“What’s this about?”

“Well, someone requested a personal meeting with you, Priest. As a result, Priest Herilson will be taking over your confessions today.”

“A personal meeting caused my confession session to be rescheduled? Is that even allowed?”

“It’s my first time hearing of it, too.”

The junior priest blinked as if agreeing with my bewilderment.

“The order came directly from Deacon Nathaniel.”

“If it’s a directive from Nathaniel, it must be an important meeting.”

“I think so, too. Apparently, the individual specifically requested to meet with you, Priest.”

“With me?”

“Yes.”

The explanation left me even more puzzled.

While I did occasionally interact with worshippers through my duties, I doubted any of them thought of me as more than just another priest.

Just as they were nameless worshippers to me, I was a nameless priest to them.

“Still, it’s rare for an existing schedule to be adjusted. Couldn’t another priest handle the meeting instead?”

“The individual insisted they wouldn’t meet with anyone but you, Priest.”

“And Nathaniel agreed to that?”

“Yes.”

Something felt off.

An inexplicable unease crept over me.

For Nathaniel, famously rigid and inflexible, to adjust his schedule—it could only mean his counterpart was someone significant.

Anxiety stirred within me as I wondered who it might be.

Perhaps someone so high-ranking that even Nathaniel had to bow to their will?

But if that were the case, why would they bother meeting with me?

After a moment of hesitation, I dismissed my ominous thoughts.

Regardless of my discomfort, if Nathaniel ordered it, I had no choice but to meet with the person.

I could think it over afterward.

Dusting off the soil from my palms, I forced a small smile.

Whoever this novice priest was, I appreciated their effort in coming all the way to the garden to deliver the message.

“Got it. Thanks for letting me know.”

“Not at all.”

“It’s just my duty,” the novice priest added bashfully, shaking their head before excusing themselves and scurrying away.

Watching them disappear into the main building, I picked up my watering can again and resumed watering the flower beds.

The soft sound of water flowing filled the air, a momentary calm washing over me as my thoughts quieted.

Could the visitor be Viscount Chernian?

Perhaps they figured out I was the one they’d seen at the door and wanted to confront me?

It seemed the most plausible explanation.

If the person waiting for me at the end of this hall was indeed Viscount Chernian, it was likely that Nathaniel had complied with his request.

“I really don’t want this.”

If the visitor truly was Viscount Chernian, stepping into the meeting room would be akin to walking straight into a trap.

I muttered to myself as I sank to the floor in the corridor.

Only a few more steps lay between me and the meeting room.

The closed door loomed ahead, almost as if it were beckoning me to come closer.

The meeting room was unlike a confessional; it was designed for face-to-face discussions between priests and devotees.

If the visitor was Viscount Chernian, this setting would ensure that my identity was fully exposed.

There would be no shadows to hide behind, unlike in a confessional.

“I guess I have to go.”

The thought of Viscount Chernian waiting inside made me reluctant to enter.

I’d already dawdled so much on the way here that I was 30 minutes late.

Yet, even now, I stood there, unwilling to take the final steps.

With no other choice, I straightened my clothes and rose to my feet before knocking on the door.

The sound echoed through the empty corridor.

A mouse caught in a trap—that image wouldn’t leave my mind.

After a couple of knocks, a voice from inside granted permission to enter.

Muffled by the door, it was difficult to identify the speaker.

If the visitor truly was Viscount Chernian, I needed to appear as harmless as possible.

Pretend I knew nothing.

At the same time, I had to uncover his true intentions.

Steeling myself, I grasped the doorknob and pushed the door open.

Inside, the room was sparsely furnished with a wooden table and two chairs.

One of them was already occupied.

I was about to greet the visitor with my usual “Hello” when—

“Good afternoon.”

“……”

The visitor greeted me first.

Standing abruptly, he stared at me as I entered the room.

And then, I froze.

The words I’d prepared to say died on my lips, and I clenched my mouth shut to suppress the frantic beating of my heart.

This couldn’t be real.

I barely managed to keep from grimacing.

The person waiting for me wasn’t Viscount Chernian.

That, at least, was a relief.

But even so, his identity was shocking enough.

“Thank you for coming.”

Kaindel smiled warmly at me, his slender eyes curving as he beamed.

His stunning smile was radiant, almost overwhelming.

Kaindel.

My head felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

“Right,” the novice priest had said earlier, “That devotee specifically requested a meeting with you.”

Now it all made sense.

That had been a clear warning.

Why hadn’t I considered the possibility that the visitor might be Kaindel?

A pang of belated regret struck me.

I wanted to turn and flee, but my legs felt rooted to the ground as if stuck in quicksand.

All I could do was stand there, silently meeting Kaindel’s gaze.

His smile gradually softened, and then, in a tone filled with caution, he spoke.

“May I have a bit of your time? I’d like to have a discussion.”

* * *