At that moment, a voice commanded the crowd’s attention.
“Her Highness, Princess Celestid Violin Winchester, is entering!”
As the doors swung open, the nobles respectfully parted to either side, bowing gracefully.
Celestid smiled kindly as she lifted each noble to their feet, then made her way directly to Bianca.
Pretending to exchange pleasantries, the two women spoke in hushed tones.
“Bianca, is everything prepared as the Holy Vicar instructed yesterday evening?”
“All proceeding smoothly.”
Their conversation, though cryptic, hinted at something brewing behind the scenes.
Not long after, the rest of the royal family entered one by one.
“His Highness, Prince Ligares Edental Winchester, is entering!”
“His Highness, Prince Hadeil Rusven Winchester, is entering!”
The two princes appeared, decked out in opulent attire and dazzling embellishments.
“And Her Majesty, Queen Raviola Angela Winchester, is entering!”
Finally, the true power of the kingdom, Queen Raviola, graced the banquet with her presence.
The Queen crossed the hall with regal poise, seating herself on a throne adorned with gold and jewels.
Only after she invited everyone to enjoy the festivities did the quiet hum of conversation and orchestral music return.
At any Winchester royal banquet, the rivalry between the heirs was an unspoken highlight.
With a deliberate stride, Hadeil made his way through the crowd toward Ligares.
The two exchanged a formal greeting before lowering their voices to taunt each other.
“Ligares, I heard quite the rumor circulating about you yesterday,” Hadeil began.
“A rumor?” Ligares replied coolly.
“They say you proposed to the Holy Vicar on behalf of Her Majesty.”
“I don’t see why you’re calling it a ‘rumor.'”
“Just expressing my pity as an older brother. Still relying on Mother’s influence at your age.”
“Better than having none at all, like someone else I know. Envious, are we?”
“…Little bastard.”
“You knew that already, so why start something?”
The half-brothers, ten years apart, exchanged icy glares.
Hadeil quickly exploited the opportunity to provoke further.
“It’s a rare sight, hearing you speak of the late queen so freely.”
“Now what are you babbling about?”
“Perhaps soon you’ll even be able to laugh while reminiscing about Reminic, don’t you think?”
“…”
Ligares’s expression hardened instantly.
“Shut up.”
“Why so touchy? You haven’t changed at all. What gave you the confidence to even bring up the dead?”
“I said, shut up.”
Splash!
Unable to hold back, Ligares grabbed a glass and flung its contents at Hadeil, who sidestepped smoothly, as though anticipating it.
“Calm down, little brother.”
With a benevolent smile, Hadeil reassured the startled nobles, doing his best to play the part of a caring, magnanimous elder.
But Ligares’s fury simmered, his anger refusing to dissipate.
Luckily, a booming announcement cut through the tension between the two brothers, allowing the crowd’s attention to shift elsewhere.
“The Holy Vicar, Lady Ailet Rodeline, and the Master of the Holy Sword, Sir Tesilid Argent, are entering!”
The Holy Vicar, adorned in a pure white ceremonial robe and with her pink hair braided elegantly, appeared at the entrance, escorted by the strikingly handsome Tesilid.
At the sight of them stepping into the banquet hall, awed gasps escaped from all around.
Blessed by divine grace, the Holy Vicar exuded an aura that set her apart from any ordinary human, radiating a beauty that inspired not mere admiration but reverent awe. The nobles shivered with excitement at the surreal experience.
The Holy Vicar crossed the hall, stopping before Queen Raviola.
“Thank you for hosting such a grand banquet, Your Majesty.”
“There’s no need for such formalities, Holy Vicar. You are a friend to the royal family.”
“Your words are too kind.”
“I heard your church will be completed soon. The royal family shall express our gratitude accordingly.”
“I trusted in your generosity.”
“This banquet, too, was arranged to convey our gratitude. I hope it meets your approval.”
“Honestly, it’s my first time at such an event, so I must admit I’m a little nervous.”
“Is that so?”
Queen Raviola gestured to her attendants. Moments later, they brought a throne-like chair, placing it beside the Queen’s own.
It was a seat traditionally reserved for royals, and several nobles murmured, understanding the implications.
“Sit here by my side until you feel more at ease. You needn’t do anything other than observe if you wish.”
“Thank you for your kindness, Your Majesty.”
Seemingly unfazed by the political undertones, the Holy Vicar accepted Queen Raviola’s invitation with a serene smile, taking her place beside the Queen.
The hall filled with soft murmurs as nobles took in the scene.
Queen Raviola addressed the gathered crowd.
“Please continue to enjoy the banquet.”
It was a clear message for everyone to mind their own business.
Meanwhile, Tesilid, now alone, retreated respectfully to the edges of the hall.
With his silver hair and noble visage, he stood quietly, attempting to blend into the background. Yet his natural presence and aura drew attention despite his efforts.
Among those watching Tesilid closely were none other than Hadeil and Ligares.
Hadeil, who had never seen Tesilid before, narrowed his gaze.
“That man… is the Master of the Holy Sword?”
“Interested, are you?” Ligares sneered. “Since I’ve claimed the Holy Vicar, perhaps you’re hoping to gain his favor instead?”
Ignoring Ligares’s sarcasm, Hadeil muttered under his breath.
“Something about him is bothersome…”
“A rare moment of agreement, then.”
“Word has it the Holy Knight is only allowed to drink wine provided by the Theocracy.”
“…Oh, really?”
For the first time in ages, the half-brothers found themselves aligned in purpose. They exchanged glances with several nobles across the room.
The subtle signals were understood instantly.
With feigned friendliness, a group of nobles approached Tesilid, each bearing glasses filled with dangerously strong liquor, their intentions anything but kind.
Watching Tesilid’s struggle to politely refuse the drinks, Hadeil and Ligares shared a satisfied smirk.
✠
<Wow, are you seeing that? The second you step away, they’re all over him, forcing him to drink. Pathetic.>
It’s maddening, Agnes.
Watching Tesilid being hounded with drink made my stomach churn as if I’d swallowed poison myself.
I felt a strong urge to walk over, knock all the glasses out of their hands, and pour every drop down Hadeil and Ligares’s throats.
But for now, I had to sit decorously beside Queen Raviola.
[‘The Scales That Judge Souls’ brims with anticipation.]
[‘The Cliché Connoisseur’ brims with anticipation.]
Something told me that these two had very different types of expectations.
I kept my gaze on Tesilid as I addressed Queen Raviola.
“Your Majesty, if I may ask a question.”
“Of course, Holy Vicar.”
“Yesterday, you advised me to remain neutral. So I’m curious—why did Prince Ligares pay me a visit later, apparently on an errand from Your Majesty?”
“Impressive that you deduced it was my errand.”
For a fleeting moment, Queen Raviola seemed on the verge of a smile, though she quickly abandoned the effort.
Returning to her impassive expression, she answered candidly.
“I changed my mind.”
“Your mind?”
“While I may be consumed by ambition, that doesn’t mean I would stand by and let my only son become a tyrant. I thought you might be able to temper his hatred.”
“What makes you think I’d have that effect?”
“Because you’re a Saintess.”
“Pardon?”
“Throughout history, Saintesses have been known for their virtue and kindness. They make ideal brides.”
I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of discomfort.
“I’m afraid I don’t really fit that description. In fact, I’d say I’m closer to the opposite.”
“That’s also fine by me. A fierce woman able to stand by my son’s side could be a good asset.”
“It sounds like you’ve decided on an answer and are just finding ways to justify it.”
“I’m saying that I find you that appealing, Holy Vicar.”
[‘The Cliché Connoisseur’ is disappointed at the lack of in-law drama.]
[‘The Word That Builds Worlds’ threatens to add a prohibition against marriage to their doctrine if the Holy Vicar faces in-law hardships.]
[‘The Scales That Judge Souls’ hastily clamps down on ‘The Word That Builds Worlds’ before they can say more.]
“I appreciate the sentiment, Your Majesty. As it happens, I have no desire to oppose you either.”
“In that case, there’s only one path forward. I trust you’ll arrive at the right answer, Holy Vicar.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Well…”
Queen Raviola’s cold hand clasped mine gently.
“Then I will become your most formidable enemy. No matter where you go or what you do.”
She held my gaze, her intense stare absorbing any hint of reaction.
I replied with a soft smile.
“Got it. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“…”
“By the way, Your Majesty, your hands feel rather cold. Before I leave, I’ll make a potion to help with your circulation.”
“…Very well.”
Queen Raviola withdrew her hand, exhaling a small breath, possibly a stifled laugh.
“Holy Vicar, one more thing.”
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
“Your gaze is much too direct. Such honesty doesn’t suit life at court.”
“…”
Oh dear, was it that obvious?
I quickly glanced away from the nobles harassing Tesilid, feeling slightly embarrassed.
The Queen’s expression was icy, her gaze sharp.
‘That’s… not good.’
Anyone in the royal family showing interest in Tesilid was a clear red flag.
Maybe it was time to go ahead with my prayer for the peace of the royal household.
But just then, an unexpected development arose. A nearby attendant whispered surprising news to the Queen.
“Your Majesty, there is an additional delegation from the Holy Vicarate requesting an audience.”
What? An additional delegation?