* * *
The incident exposed the fact that the Holy Legion, protectors of the Grand Sanctuary, were secretly allied with the Archbishop.
Ranshel felt a small sense of satisfaction, knowing the truth he’d carried alone was finally out in the open.
“Even if we uncover evidence of heresy at the prayer gatherings, the Holy Legion will likely be the first to silence us. We need power to stand against them.”
If it came to it, they might have to confront the Holy Legion with force.
But the only military group stationed in the capital that could rival them was the Imperial Knights.
Most other troops were stationed on the distant border to guard against demonic incursions.
“Then we’ll need to mobilize the Imperial Knights…”
Ranshel looked around the room.
He was sure he had seen someone’s face before passing out, but now only Frey was with him.
“The Young Lord has already gone to deal with that matter directly.”
“Oh, the… the Knights?”
So he went to the Imperial Capital?
Ranshel blinked, unable to adjust to the sudden change in circumstances.
Having fainted, he had no memory of how he’d even gotten out of the prison.
‘Did he run into Baha?’
He didn’t seem like the type to let them go easily.
Could Frey have accompanied him?
If the Saint personally intervened to free him, not even someone like Baha could defy it.
Still, he hoped Frey hadn’t had to face Zavad directly.
At that moment, Frey placed a hand over Ranshel’s.
“I’m sorry. I thought you’d ask for the Young Lord as soon as you woke up, but I was too scared to stop you.”
“N-No, I wasn’t… I just… I was curious. I mean, I…”
Because he came to save me, while I was being tortured.
Because I’m grateful. Because he must’ve been shocked and angry, and I want to know if he’s okay.
A flood of thoughts came, but none made it past his lips.
One thought stood out vividly, and in trying to hide it, he found himself unable to say anything at all.
Before more unnecessary thoughts could rise, Ranshel changed the subject.
“Why are you afraid of the Young Lord? He treasures you, Saint…”
He likes you. He gave you his heart, got engaged to you, promised you a future.
Why would you be afraid of someone like that?
Someone who… gave you his heart.
Why fear him?
Wouldn’t you just want to see him?
To gaze at that sculpted face, to embrace that warm body filled with comforting heat?
The irrational thoughts wouldn’t stop.
Ranshel bit his lip and lowered his head.
Frey let out a long breath and gently stroked Ranshel’s shoulder.
“Don’t cry, Ranshel. I want to live a long life.”
“……”
Why would my crying shorten your life?
Ranshel didn’t understand, but he felt that if he said anything more, he really would cry.
So he simply curled into himself.
His heart was pounding so violently it hurt his chest.
His bones ached, and his limbs felt numb.
A brutal realization crawled up through him, making his whole body throb with pain.
Zavad walked along the crimson carpet.
At the end of the vast corridor, someone was waiting to greet him.
“It’s been a while, Zavad.”
As he tilted his head and smiled, his soft silver hair swayed gently.
“Ah, now that you’ve come of age, we must observe formalities with each other. Come, Sir Zavad.”
“I have missed your presence.”
Zavad bowed his head to him.
The Crown Prince of the great Empire, Dantaron, acknowledged him with a nod.
His eyes swept over Zavad’s frame before he let out a soft sigh.
“To have become so impressive since I last saw you… Compared to you, I look far too shabby.”
Dantaron fretfully rubbed his own slender wrist.
Delicate from birth, he possessed not a single ounce of talent for wielding a sword.
Zavad replied with a gentle smile.
“I merely strive to be Your Highness’s sword. Should any matter requiring force arise, you need only use me. Is Your Highness not destined to become the exalted sun of the Empire?”
“Sir Zavad….”
The Crown Prince’s eyes welled up with emotion.
All the while, Zavad’s patience was rapidly nearing its limit.
Having waited for Dantaron to make the first move, he soon gave up and spoke.
“By the way, might Her Majesty the Empress…”
“Ah! Aah, yes. I should have attended to the important matter first, I completely lost my focus.”
Flustered, Dantaron hurriedly led him toward the reception room.
The waiting attendants immediately swung the doors open wide upon seeing them.
As they stepped inside, they could see the figure of someone seated on a sofa placed in the center.
“…You have come.”
Zavad went down on one knee and paid his respects to the Empress, who was watching him indifferently.
The Empress, Helena, was a woman with a cold countenance and silver hair, much like Dantaron.
Her face betraying no emotion, she propped her chin on her hand and spoke.
“We are neither of us blessed with a leisurely disposition, it seems. State your business without delay.”
Though their outward appearances had some similarities, they were a mother and son who were not much alike.
Unlike the foolishly fawning Dantaron, Helena seemed to have already grasped Zavad’s purpose.
This meeting, arranged secretly through the Crown Prince, lacked the official procedures normally required for an audience with the Empress.
As such, it had to be concluded quickly so as not to affect the main schedule.
Zavad went straight to the point.
“I will find evidence of the heresy. Please order the Imperial Knights to enter the Sanctuary.”
“Request denied.”
The refusal was excessively swift.
Zavad clenched his fist tightly, managing the surge of emotion that welled up inside him.
“…I dare to ask once more. Please order the Imperial Knights to enter the Sanctuary.”
“Request denied. I cannot issue an order that violates the Holy Domain.”
The air inside the reception room froze solid.
Dantaron, standing behind them and unsure of what to do, cautiously opened his mouth.
“U-um, even so, if Sir Zavad is asking like this, perhaps just this once…”
“Crown Prince.”
The moment Helena called him, Dantaron trembled and firmly shut his mouth.
Silence flowed once more for a short while.
Zavad felt little disappointment, as he had never expected the Crown Prince to be of any help to begin with.
His inability to speak immediately was for another reason.
Various arguments to persuade the Empress lined up in his mind, but the stubborn anxiety and fury made them difficult to articulate.
Every time he blinked, the pale face of the person lying on the bed flickered before his eyes.
He couldn’t speak right away because he wanted to shout at the Empress—to demand why she wasn’t lifting a finger, to insist she provide even the slightest bit of help.
Helena looked down at Zavad with cool eyes.
Then, she lowered the arm propping her chin and adjusted her posture.
“I said not immediately. Must you not create a pretext first?”
Zavad raised his head, which he had been keeping deeply bowed to hide his irreverent gaze.
“Become the sword of the Empire. By now, there is no one unaware that the Crown Prince wishes to have you as his guard; none will question it. Now is the opportune time.”
Helena rose from her seat.
A lady-in-waiting, who had been standing by, draped a thick cape over her shoulders.
“Proving your capability comes first. After gaining the trust of the Knights, you will search the interior yourself, alongside the members of the order.”
“……By then, it will be far too late.”
Zavad could not help but defy the order.
For the first time, a faint hint of interest appeared on the Empress’s perpetually expressionless face.
“Indeed, you too would have readily considered such a method… I found it curious that you came in such haste. Is there perhaps a reason you must act urgently?”
“……It’s merely that I find it disagreeable to tolerate the violent acts of the Sacred Legion until then.”
A slight frown briefly formed and then vanished between the Empress’s brows.
“I know not what has provoked such anger, but your chance will come. Judge this冷静に.”
“……I shall obey your command.”
* * *
