CHAPTER 95………………………….
Joanne chuckled and replied,
“Something like that? That’s nothing. Of course I can handle it.”
Her smiling face, telling him not to worry, looked endlessly foolish and frivolous.
After Joanne left excitedly, Everett immediately turned to Arcana and asked,
“Will the Viscount of Kestarian die at their hands?”
Relieved that Arcana, though staggering, did not collapse, Everett let out a sigh of relief.
Knock, knock—
“Lord Naz, you’ve worked hard. You must be very tired, right?”
Lady Shallet entered carrying warm tea and Everett’s favorite biscuits.
“Was the reason you asked earlier because of that woman who just left—the one calling herself the Viscountess of Kestarian?”
“Yes, that’s right. Have you ever seen her before?”
“No. The Kestarian household doesn’t have a lady of the house. The viscount has lived alone ever since his wife passed away, raising Lady Dora by himself.”
“And knowing that, you still gave her a consultation?”
Lady Shallet winked one eye.
“Well, I was curious. The dress and jewelry were clearly of noble origin, but she’s certainly not the viscountess.”
“As expected, Lady Shallet’s eye for detail is impressive. That’s why…”
Lady Shallet set down her cup and looked at Everett with a glimmer of interest.
“Yes, go on.”
“Could you look into the Kestarian household for me? I have a feeling something big is about to happen soon.”
“Don’t worry. One of the things I’m best at is digging up information. Hmm, ‘digging up information’ sounds a bit improper though.”
Everett gave a small laugh.
“Let’s call it observation.”
“Observing someone you’re curious about. Yes, I like that term. I’ll find out quickly.”
“Still no one today.”
Since Naz’s tarot shop vanished, the once-crowded Saint’s Altar had become eerily quiet again.
Angelus glanced back at the maid following her, holding up the hem of her long dress.
“When is Hugo coming?”
“Well… we’ve been sending messages continuously, but…”
Though it wasn’t her fault, the maid’s voice grew smaller and smaller.
“Is there anything you can do properly? You can’t even handle this one thing? At least hold the dress correctly—it’s pulling on my waist!”
Her irritated voice echoed loudly in the empty space.
The maid bent down, nervously adjusting the neatly arranged hem of Angelus’s gown again.
Though Duke Bacard had warned her, she never believed Hugo truly wouldn’t come. She had sent numerous secret messages, but there had been no reply at all.
She used to hear of outside news through Hugo, and now Angelus grew increasingly anxious.
The anger she’d been suppressing finally spilled out on the innocent maid.
“Do it properly! I said properly!”
At that moment, she saw Yankeller striding quickly somewhere.
His light brown eyes were filled with disdain toward her.
Angelus dismissed her maid and approached him.
“Where are you rushing off to, Lord Yankeller?”
Yankeller gave a shallow bow, the corner of his mouth curling crookedly.
“Saintess, why vent your frustration on a maid who is only fulfilling her duties, just because of your own shortcomings?”
“Are you picking a fight with me right now?”
To her sharp tone, Yankeller slowly shook his head.
“How could I dare? I only thought you seemed unaware, so I wished to inform you.”
“And what is it I supposedly don’t know? Tell me, and I’ll correct it.”
“Ah, so you haven’t heard yet.”
“…”
“The rumor that there are two saintesses in Bartman.”
Angelus snorted.
“I’ve known that for a long time. You mean me and the fortune-teller Naz, don’t you?”
Yankeller gave a short, mocking laugh.
“No, you didn’t know. It’s not you and Naz… It’s Naz and another figure who appeared outside the capital.”
“Outside the capital?”
“Yes. A prophet has appeared in the slums. People are calling her the Saintess of Edet.”
“The… Saintess of Edet?”
“As someone raised nobly, you might not know. Edet is the name of a street in the slums. They named her after the place she first appeared.”
Of course she knew.
It was an alley she had walked countless times.
“I know.”
The words burst out defensively before she could stop herself, and Yankeller’s eyes gleamed.
“You know the name of a slum street? Even I, born and raised in the capital, never knew of it.”
Angelus averted her gaze.
“The rumors say she’s even more gifted than the fortune-teller Naz.”
“Hmph, rumors can say anything.”
After all, it was rumors that had quickly solidified her standing as saintess. She brushed it off, but her complexion grew darker.
“Come to think of it, Lord Anishu seems to be a fair god.”
“Fair…?”
“Yes. To have multiple saintesses in the Empire—perhaps it’s even a blessing.”
Angelus wanted to rip the smirk right off Yankeller’s face.
He knew she was a false saintess, and she couldn’t find a retort. She could only clench her teeth in frustration.
Pathetic. If only she could find a weakness to wound him with.
“Lord Yankeller, have you considered my proposal?”
“Proposal? Can you even call that a proposal? It was nothing more than your own idea.”
“Oh my, is that how you understood it? I spoke from the heart. If you only agreed, I would have told you the method.”
His transparent attempt to rile him was irritating. Without answering, Yankeller turned sharply away.
“I think the role of priest suits you more than that of a man, Lord Yankeller.”
His steps faltered. He didn’t turn back, but his neck flushed red.
“A humble, ascetic priest. Perhaps because you’ve always lived without lacking, you think absence is natural?”
Will you just let Everett be taken away?
She didn’t say it aloud, but every word stabbed straight into him.
Without reply, Yankeller walked on.
Watching his furious back, Angelus smiled with a hollow sense of victory.
Yankeller sighed deeply as he descended into the temple’s underground halls.
Though he had crossed verbal swords with Angelus, he had no room to dwell on it now.
When the heavy door to the underground council chamber opened, he saw the gathered priests.
This secret meeting was attended only by the High Priest and those holding key positions.
But in truth, aside from Yankeller, most rarely appeared at the temple at all.
They wore black sashes at their waists, conversing in small groups.
Yankeller, also wearing a large black sash, stood quietly near the entrance, apart from them.
Finally, the High Priest entered, and the heavy door slammed shut.
Unlike the usual pure white, he wore the black robes of a priest. Standing atop the high dais, he spoke.
“It has been a long time since I last gathered you all.”
At his thick, oily voice, all eyes turned forward.
“I never imagined we would hold such a council again.”
The priests nodded.
“As you’ve surely heard, there are reports of one being called the manifestation of Lord Anishu in the slums outside the capital.”
“How dare someone insult Lord Anishu when the saintess resides in the temple?”
“We must capture them quickly before the people fall into confusion.”
“Yes, this is blasphemy.”
As they competed to demand her capture, Yankeller scoffed silently.
‘They never care about the temple otherwise, yet they’re thrilled at fresh prey like starving dogs.’
In the temple, black signified Inquisitors.
All of them, except Yankeller, had long worked alongside the High Priest.
Though this was Yankeller’s first full council, he had heard endless stories of their exploits.
Now, they buzzed with excitement at the thought of a new tale to add.
They argued heatedly over how to execute this so-called Saintess of Edet, whom none of them had even seen.
“We’ve worked so hard to root out falsehoods all this time.”
“Perhaps she hasn’t even heard of us. To dare such a thing while the Inquisitors exist—bold indeed.”
“We must ensure the blood we’ve shed is not in vain. Find her immediately.”
Their talk was as if they had achieved some holy martyrdom.
‘More like they spilled blood and left corpses behind,’ Yankeller thought bitterly.
The fevered voices would not quiet, until at last the High Priest raised his hand.
“Enough. Silence now, all of you.”
At his words, the murmurs fell instantly.
“It is still only a rumor. We must first confirm the truth.”
He turned his eyes toward Yankeller at the edge of the room.
“Priest Yankeller Fenayo. You will investigate this rumor.”
All the priests looked at him at once.
Ah, so this is how he plans to cement Yankeller as his successor.
As expected, their lips curved downward in sour displeasure.
“Why do you not answer, Yankeller Fenayo? Investigate the truth of this rumor.”
The High Priest commanded again.
Only then did Yankeller grudgingly reply that he understood.
A little later—
Once the others had left, only Yankeller and the High Priest remained.
The High Priest, who had kept a grave expression throughout the meeting, was now flushed with color.
Stomping toward him, he barked,
“Yan, this is a heaven-sent opportunity. You can finally show your true ability. Do you even realize that, standing there with that face?”
