<We definitely weren’t informed about this, right?>
I didn’t even have a chance to speak up.
“Let them in.”
As the music stopped, a procession of clergy entered, dressed in formal, pristine attire. They crossed the grand hall with a reverent, almost ritualistic gait, making their way toward us.
A feeling stirred in me—a sense that a spectacle was about to unfold.
The middle-aged priest at the front of the procession offered a respectful bow and introduced himself.
“I am Priest Ivanots Senak. With the kingdom hosting this event to honor the Holy Vicar, the Holy See has also prepared a gift to celebrate unity.”
“A gift?” Queen Raviola inquired.
Upon her question, the lead priest received a large, ornate jewel box from another priest in the procession. My curiosity piqued.
What on earth could it be? What sort of trap is hidden inside?
The priest opened the box and raised its contents high for all to see.
“Gasp!”
A collective intake of breath rippled through the nobles standing closest, their faces painted with shock.
It was understandable. What the priest held as his ‘gift’ was…
<A s-skull? Ailet, that’s a skull, right?>
Yes. It was the skull of a small child.
“…”
Naturally, Queen Raviola’s expression drained of all color as she looked down at the ghastly gift.
The atmosphere in the hall grew colder, as the lead priest’s voice echoed through the silence. He spoke with such gentle calm, a preacher’s lilt in his tone.
“This is the skull of a young boy, blessed and sanctified. With this, we hope Her Majesty the Queen will honor his memory and seek atonement daily, as a testament to her regret for the past.”
“…What did you say?”
“Her Majesty the Queen has harbored much sorrow for what occurred long ago. But holding onto resentment will only bring illness. Perhaps she might embrace the misguided acts of certain zealots with a mother’s forgiveness, thus cleansing her heart with mercy and grace?”
“…”
A silent wave of horror swept over the hall, but the priest was not finished.
“Speaking humbly, as a servant of the divine, I must add that Prince Reminik’s untimely passing must also be understood as part of the divine will.”
“My son’s death… was God’s will?”
“Yes. His early departure was surely ordained to spare his young soul from the suffering born of karmic sin and original guilt. Even had he lived, he would likely have faced a miserable life of endless hardship…”
At this point, it was difficult to keep my own composure.
<Madness! This is insane!>
[‘The Balance-Adjusting Cynic’ is rendered speechless by the indecency of this remark.]
[‘The Eye Watching Chaos of All Things’ mutters that this warrants a lifetime ban.]
[‘Architect of the Tower of Trials’ feels a wave of dizziness at the twisted absurdity of it all.]
The priest’s false sanctimony, cloaked in twisted moral pretense, was nothing more than a weapon of cruelty, designed to slice through Queen Raviola’s heart.
And there was no way she could be unaffected. Her breathing grew heavy, fraught with fury.
It didn’t take long to identify the mastermind behind this farce.
A man stood in the hall, barely concealing his twisted grin with a wine glass.
‘Hadeil.’
It was obvious that he was behind this. He had arranged for the Holy Vicarate to bring this ‘gift’ to provoke Queen Raviola’s ire, spurring her to retaliate against the Holy See.
He had likely bribed someone high up—someone with enough influence to deploy a team of naive believers to pose as this delegation.
And since the priests had genuine status in the clergy, it would be difficult for the Holy See to claim no involvement.
CRASH!
Overcome with rage, Ligares flipped a table with a forceful kick.
“How dare you? Do you have any idea where you are to speak such blasphemy?”
“Calm yourself, Third Prince,” Queen Raviola softly rebuked her son.
Her expression returned to an almost eerie calm, every trace of shock concealed.
“Priest Ivanots, was it?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“I understand the Holy See’s sentiment well enough. It seems I may have grown too lenient in recent days.”
“I… beg your pardon?”
The queen’s voice dropped into a tone of unyielding command.
“Guards, seize Priest Ivanots. I want his tongue removed and sent back to the Holy See as a gift in return.”
“Wh-What?! Your Majesty!”
“Hang the remaining priests up by stakes. Let them reflect on their so-called sins until death overtakes them.”
“N-No! Please, spare us…!”
The priests were thrown into desperate panic, their self-righteous façade instantly dissolving into cries for mercy.
The nobles around us, catching sight of Queen Raviola’s expression, discreetly shrank back, uneasy as memories of her former reputation surfaced—her brutal purge of political enemies in the past.
Her vengeance was far from complete.
“It seems,” she continued, her voice carrying clearly over the crowd as she looked deliberately in my direction, “that there are others here in need of a similar lesson in respect.”
The threat was aimed directly at my comrades.
Ifeil, Hestio, and Ash, standing by as guards, were suddenly dragged forward, each taken aback by the sudden hostility.
“Wait, what’s going on?!”
“None of us had any idea they would show up!”
“There’s something wrong here; this needs investigating—Ugh!”
The royal knights grabbed them, roughly forcing them to their knees.
“….”
Tesilid was no exception. He was shoved down to kneel directly in front, nearest to Queen Raviola.
From my place beside her, I took in the entire spectacle, every detail.
“Holy Vicar,” came the Queen’s voice, flowing into my ear like poison.
Turning only my eyes toward her, I found her smiling—the kind of soft, dangerous smile that only served to heighten her severity.
“Now then, Holy Vicar… what will you do?”
“…”
“It would be difficult to prove your innocence here. And that, I’m afraid, would lead to a rather unfortunate outcome for your comrades.”
Ah. So that’s her game.
Finally, it all clicked.
Queen Raviola knew perfectly well that this was a ploy by Hadeil. She’d let him do it to create leverage over me.
Now she had the opening she wanted to coerce me into obedience.
“It may be difficult,” she went on smoothly, “but don’t worry. Innocence is something we demand of enemies, not allies.”
“Allies, is it?”
“Yes. This problem could be resolved quite easily if the Holy Vicar aligns herself with me.”
“…”
“Decide here and now. Otherwise, I’ll have the Master of the Holy Sword beaten within an inch of his life right in front of your eyes.”
“…”
My breath caught involuntarily.
Her voice sharpened, cutting through the air like the edge of a blade.
“You may heal him if you like. Once he’s patched up, I’ll have him strung up and whipped again. Heal him, and I’ll have him beaten. Heal him, and I’ll have him beaten again. We’ll continue like this, just you and me.”
“…”
“Eventually, even healing will cease to feel like mercy. I wonder how long the Master of the Holy Sword will last before he begs you to let him die…”
“That’s enough, Mother.”
Unable to bear it, I cut her off.
She didn’t correct my form of address. Instead, a pleased light entered her eyes.
“Mother, is it…?”
A sharp gaze struck me from below.
Kneeling on the steps, Tesilid looked up at me, his eyes betraying the agony of a man who had been abandoned.
[‘The Connoisseur of Clichés’ shivers at Queen Raviola’s misunderstanding.]
[‘The Scales that Judge Souls’ is pleased by the forlorn glint in the protagonist’s eyes.]
I, however, could find no pleasure in any of it. Not one bit.
It was time to end this.
“I should have offered the blessing first. Because of the delay, the atmosphere here has taken a strange turn.”
“Holy Vicar?”
I kept my tone steady, ignoring Queen Raviola’s reaction as I addressed the assembly.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I will now pray for the peace of the royal household. Please focus.”
Without lowering my head or clasping my hands, I rose from my seat and spoke loudly.
“As the mouthpiece of God, I propose a paternity test for the Winchester Royal Family!”
“What?”
The hall erupted into murmurs of shock and confusion.
“A paternity test?!”
“What on earth are you saying, Holy Vicar?”
The crowd’s reactions were a chaotic blend of bewilderment and outrage. Perhaps a bit more clarity was in order.
“Exactly as I said. I request an immediate paternity test between Her Majesty Queen Raviola and Tesilid Argent.”
[‘The Connoisseur of Clichés’ is ecstatic over the revelation of a hidden birth secret!]
“What game are you playing?”
Ligares’s face twisted in fury as he glared at me.
It wasn’t only him; every corner of the room was filled with wary, suspicious gazes.
Queen Raviola’s expression hardened.
“I have only two sons, Holy Vicar.”
“I am aware.”
“Are you suggesting a lie you know will be exposed? How reckless.”
“No need to be so disappointed. I made this suggestion well aware of your convenient artifact, Mother.”
A thin smile crossed my lips as her breath caught, just slightly. She took a long pause before speaking.
“You will be held accountable for the results.”
Her voice was cold as ice, each word sharp with warning, but I remained undeterred.
“It’s alright, Tesilid. Trust me.”
The tense expression in his gaze didn’t ease, but he nodded slightly.
Meanwhile, the attendants hurriedly brought forward the artifact Queen Raviola had mentioned—a large, crystalline orb presented atop a velvet pillow.
This device had served as the royal family’s gatekeeper against illegitimate heirs for over a century.
“They’re actually conducting this test right here?”
“If she’s lying, she’ll face the worst disgrace imaginable…”
“But she looks so confident…”
The murmurs quieted as the royal chamberlain prepared to conduct the test, displaying the reverence one might offer to a bishop presiding over a sacred ritual.
“As blood touches the crystal, its color will deepen to a red hue according to the closeness of blood relation. Your Majesty, Sir Tesilid, if you please…”
The ceremonial knife nicked both Queen Raviola’s and Tesilid’s fingertips.
The tiny drops of blood pooled, fell, and touched the crystal at the same moment.
“…!”
“…!”
In an instant, the orb, which had gleamed a pale, moonstone white, darkened to a rich crimson.
A result beyond doubt.
One Response
I was NOT expecting that. Poor Terry. Related to that awful family.