* * *

If Kaindel were involved in what Gazette was planning, such dishonorable rumors wouldn’t have been spread. Owen added this while massaging the back of his neck.

His dark circles looked particularly pronounced behind his glasses.

Owen’s rebuttal reminded me of the gossip column Sehir had shown me in Aiden Village.

[The Duke of Schudelgarten has been the subject of much controversy due to his erratic and incomprehensible behavior since his engagement ceremony with the princess. Speculations abound that he may be mentally exhausted from fighting the Great Catastrophe, garnering both understanding and sympathy.

Meanwhile, the Duke’s whereabouts have been a mystery for six months. Even within his estate, sightings of him are rare. ‘It’s been nearly a month since the bedroom was last cleaned, and he hasn’t stepped out,’ said one servant, sparking additional intrigue.]

At the time, I thought it was solely focused on Kaindel’s strange behavior.

Later, I realized the rumors about his supposed madness had also been planted.

The issue wasn’t that the rumors were baseless—they weren’t.

Suppressing the urge to make a sarcastic comment, I cautiously spoke.

“Do you think there’s any chance Kaindel himself started those rumors? Never mind. Forget I said that.”

Hearing that the rumors originated from Gazette, I briefly wondered if Kaindel had orchestrated them intentionally.

But that curiosity quickly faded. It didn’t matter whether Kaindel spread the rumors himself.

Owen wouldn’t know such intricate details anyway.

As I shook my head dismissively, Owen observed me for a while before shrugging, as if he had no intention of prying further.

Instead, he shifted the topic.

“More importantly, do you have a plan?”

“To catch the informant?”

“Yes.”

Caught off guard by the sudden question, I hesitated briefly.

I had several ideas for identifying the informant.

One involved using rumors as bait while roaming the temple, and another entailed tailing the most suspicious individuals.

However, the risk of drawing attention to myself was too high.

It seemed safer to set a trap that forced the informant to act first.

If there were a way to do that…

After a moment of hesitation, I picked up a small leather notebook from the corner of the sofa.

The notebook, about the size of my palm, was tightly bound with a thin string.

Unlike the messy pages in the front, the back was clean, as if it had barely been used.

“Didn’t you say you could perform small feats with divine power?”

“Yes, though not as proficiently as wizards.”

“Would it be possible to leave a trace on someone who touches my belongings?”

“With some effort, it might be possible. But why do you ask?”

“The informant likely knows that I frequently meet with Kaindel. So if I start bringing a specific object—say, this notebook—to those meetings, wouldn’t they grow curious? It could work as bait.”

Reflecting on the conversation from earlier that morning, Viscount Chernian had focused on my meetings with Kaindel.

Before warning me, he’d even inquired subtly about Kaindel’s condition.

It was obvious he’d want to know more about what transpired between us. If this notebook failed to lure the informant, it would be unfortunate, but worth a try.

“If traces were left on whoever touched this notebook, it would make identifying the informant much easier.”

By narrowing the suspects among the hundreds of regular priests, catching the culprit would be far less daunting.

Anyone who touched my notebook had either done so accidentally—or with intent.

“Hmm, not a bad idea.”

Eventually, after hearing my plan, Owen curled his lips into a smile.

When I handed him the notepad he abruptly held his hand out for, a faint white light briefly enveloped it.

Only after the fragments of divine energy had completely disappeared did Owen return the notepad to me.

When I absentmindedly brushed the notepad I had retrieved from him, a black, ink-like substance stained my thumb.

Even when I tried rubbing it with another finger, it only smudged slightly and wouldn’t come off.

That was enough for me to realize that Owen had added some small trick to the notepad, just as I had asked him to.

“This might be easier to catch than expected.”

“I hope so.”

I smiled back at Owen and tucked the leather notepad close to my chest.

The black residue from the notepad didn’t seem to stain my clothes, suggesting that the mark only affected human skin.

I would just have to hope the traitor didn’t handle it while wearing gloves.

As Owen watched me put away the notepad, he let out a sigh.

“Oh, Isa. There’s been a change to your schedule for today.”

“My schedule? What kind of change?”

I was caught off guard since I hadn’t been informed of anything unusual beforehand.

As I tilted my head quizzically, Owen, glancing at the documents on the table, explained calmly.

“Your confessional session with Kaindel, originally scheduled for the morning, has been pushed to the late afternoon. Looks like it’s just before dinner.”

“Oh, I see.”

So that’s the schedule change—the confessional with Kaindel.

Muttering inwardly, I stole a glance at the clock on the wall.

I had already missed the original time because I’d overslept, so having it postponed to the afternoon was actually a relief.

At least I wouldn’t have to make up an extra hour during the next session.

“Thank you for letting me know.”

“It’s no trouble.”

“Well, the time now is… Oh dear, it seems I’ve kept you talking too long.”

“It’s still fine, but…”

“Even so. I’ve said everything I needed to, so I’ll be off now.”

“Of course. Take care.”

While I was adjusting my clothes, Owen added in a low, slightly husky voice.

“And if anything happens, don’t hesitate to come to me. Stay safe.”

It was clear what he wanted me to be cautious about.

He was likely referring to Viscount Chernian and any individuals who might be connected to him.

I quickly understood Owen’s warning and responded with a small, knowing smile.

“Yes.”

---

The confessional was already occupied when I arrived; Kaindel was seated inside.

As I looked at the silhouette of his form shifting behind the partition, I checked my pocket watch.

It was several minutes earlier than our scheduled time.

Feeling guilty about oversleeping earlier, I’d arrived ahead of time, but Kaindel seemed to have come much earlier.

Does he have nothing better to do?

Suppressing a sigh, I pulled out the book I had brought with me.

As always, I had assumed I’d end up doing something else, so I had brought it just in case.

It was right after I’d opened the book and started reading.

“Today…”

The unexpected sound of Kaindel’s voice broke the silence.

Startled, I nearly dropped the book.

“…I’d like to share something a little different.”

“…”

Something different?

The suddenness of his words, without any prior hint or preamble, caused my brows to furrow.

Since his first confession, Kaindel had maintained a pattern of silence.

Yet today, it seemed he finally had something to say.

While I felt a twinge of disappointment that I wouldn’t get to read the book I’d brought, I quickly set it aside and picked up my pen.

[Please, go ahead.]

“Do you know about the patron parties held by the Kingdom of Hadelber?”

[This is the first I’ve heard of such parties.]

“I figured as much. They aren’t widely known.”

Kaindel chuckled softly, as if he had expected my answer.

“A patron party, as the name suggests, is an event where nobles seek out individuals to sponsor.”

[Would it be something like supporting impoverished artists?]

“Occasionally, artists might be the recipients, yes. But the kind of patron party I’m referring to is far from that kind of noble cause.”

[Then who are these parties meant to benefit?]

“They’re for the patrons themselves.”

[The patrons?]

I couldn’t hold back my question, as I couldn’t grasp the concept of a patron party being for the benefit of patrons.

Sponsorship, by nature, involves patrons providing funds to beneficiaries.

Isn’t it more accurate to view it as something meant for the beneficiaries rather than the patrons?

The explanation didn’t sit right with me.

“In essence, these parties are a way for patrons to flaunt their generosity by sponsoring beneficiaries. That’s the purpose of Hadelber Kingdom’s patron parties.”

Kaindel tapped the table with his index finger, as if to redirect my attention from my skepticism.

“And I was one of those beneficiaries.”

* * *