Chapter~37
“Sir Sonnet, what do you think? Do I seem like someone who would spread rumors blindly?”
“Huh?”
“Don’t place too much burden on Miss Sonnet. Isn’t it only natural that she can’t fully embrace the Princess’s actions?”
Why were they dragging me into this?
I had a pretty good guess.
They were trying to appeal their friendship with the young marquis—someone who already had a fiancée—to me, his betrothed. Their goal was to showcase their relationship with me instead.
Since the young marquis was in charge of the relics that would be stored outside after the verification, his role was critical.
If the neutral Edenrosa ducal house accidentally sided with the wrong faction, there would be a chance for the relics to be swapped.
“Both of you, enough.”
See? The moment the young marquis spoke, they closed their mouths.
Thankfully, he had pulled me out of it.
“Sir Sonnet, let’s go. The Vice-Captain’s side has matters to discuss.”
“Understood… thank you.”
“Please, both of you, take your seats soon; the verification ceremony is about to begin.”
“All right.”
“I understand.”
Before long, they took their seats, keeping a decent distance from the two in the front. They were far enough to avoid confrontation, yet close enough to see the verification clearly.
Once we arrived, the young marquis quietly asked,
“Are you close with them? You’ve attended banquets and engagement ceremonies together, so I’m curious.”
“Uh… it’s just… okay. It’s more like they want to be close to me than the other way around…”
I knew that openly revealing cooperation with the Princess’s faction—the First Prince’s supporters—was not an option. I had no intention of helping them, even if it meant abandoning my position as the duke’s knight.
“There’s nothing to worry about. They only made those remarks to showcase a connection with the Edenrosa ducal house’s fiancée.”
“If it’s uncomfortable, we can make sure you don’t have to face them directly.”
“No, it’s fine. There’s no need for that. As a fiancée, I should maintain good relations with other houses and factions, right?”
Even if I wasn’t exactly the type to be praised for social graces—after all, I had earned the nickname ‘Mad Duelist’ in high society—pretending to be considerate to assist the young marquis wouldn’t hurt.
“Always indebted to you.”
“That’s my line to say, isn’t it?”
As we chatted amicably, the ceremony began with a majestic sound.
The temple erupted in radiant light as the priests intoned their prayers.
Among what appeared to be cardinals, a pope-like figure in a white and gold robe emerged. The mix of colors radiated brilliance, emphasizing his presence.
Before the massive golden doors—without handles, merely a narrow seam—stood the pope. At a touch of his glowing, aged hand, the doors slowly began to open.
“It has begun,” the young marquis murmured.
The temple knights surrounded the pope, cardinals, and the ceremonial area. All eyes were drawn to the slowly opening doors.
“Impressive,” I whispered.
“It’s where the relics are stored,” he replied.
Inside, a faint glowing barrier shimmered, likely acting as a filter of sorts. Only those with cardinal-level divine power could pass, I remembered.
To demonstrate, the Princess and Damia Cartier each placed a hand against the barrier. It resisted them as if a solid wall.
“No one may enter here without the Goddess’s blessing! We swear that all within are true relics!”
Truly impregnable, a holy sanctuary indeed.
Still… could they make such a vow so casually? Who knew what might happen afterward? It felt surreal to witness an oath being solemnly conducted while its validity might already be compromised.
The ceremony of grandeur and divine oaths continued, and then the pope slowly moved inside the vault.
“These are the Prophet’s Needle and the Saint’s Heart.”
The pope, flanked by two cardinals, placed the two relics into our hands. On soft velvet cushions lay a brilliantly shining white necklace and a large golden needle.
Stepping forward with measured steps, the pope brought them to the altar outside the vault.
“Place them here.”
The cardinals set the cushions atop the altar. The relics gleamed on the violet cloth, drawing murmurs from those attending the verification.
“That’s the Saint’s Heart and the Prophet’s Needle…!”
“The Heart can discern any falsehood, and the Needle only reveals its true form when held by the chosen noble…”
A lineage of dragons. The source of the royal family’s supernatural abilities. Illusions, magic, and curses could imitate it, but the Needle would only reveal its true form to the royals possessing the dragon’s power.
“I’m fascinated by how relics glow when touched by divine power,” I whispered.
“Indeed… truly relics,” he agreed.
A relic reacts with a special light when it meets divine energy. Once witnessed, even skeptics would have difficulty denying it.
“Is such a verification even necessary? Theft in the vault seems impossible…”
“Well… it’s a tradition that’s lasted centuries. We can’t just skip it.”
Even the whispering attendees quieted as the pope’s hands moved toward the relics.
When his hands rested on each relic, a brilliant light coursed from his chest, down his arms, and into the relics.
And then…
“Huh?”
“This can’t be.”
The Prophet’s Needle shone brightly, asserting its presence.
But the Saint’s Heart did nothing. Instead, it darkened completely, black as void.
“Could it… be fake?”
“Impossible… someone swapped the relics in the vault?”
As if proving its inauthenticity, the Heart burned darker, even blackening the gold surrounding it. Unease spread through the crowd.
The pope withdrew his hands, but the darkness remained.
“Prepare yourselves! Something’s happening!”
“Your Holiness! Cardinals! This way!”
The temple knights urgently evacuated the pope and nearby cardinals as the black void at the Heart’s center began to distort the surrounding space.
“Long time no see, everyone,” a voice, tinged with amusement, echoed through the vast hall.
I recognized it from the black market—the voice that made my hand tighten on my sword.
“You pitiful creations, blind to your own fate. Laughing stocks to those who know the truth…”
Crackling and tearing noises filled the air.
The space twisted violently as the knights pulled back. Guests panicked and tried to flee, but I pushed against the crowd, advancing.
“To those who finally notice the lies obscuring your vision, may this be your rest.”
The space darkened like a peeled-away texture, a black void consuming everything. A chilling wail emanated from its depths.
And from the black void, something extended an arm outward…
Thunk.
From that instant, a scream pierced the hall.
