CHAPTER 52……………….
– The Writer and the Painter
“Missing persons case?”
“Yes.”
Across from Rines, who asked with a hint of puzzlement, Eir gave a slight nod.
Ephinas Eir. Just beneath Abis, the High Priestess of the Grand Temple, she was one of the five high-ranking priests known as the Ephinas, and a reader of the past. Though her appearance suggested cold aloofness, Rines knew well enough that the woman was not as she seemed.
Golden eyes, the same hue as her hair, fixed steadily on Rines.
“A formal request for cooperation has come down from the royal family. The temple is selecting people to dispatch, and I would like you to go with them.”
“Forgive me, but may I ask the reason?”
“I judged that there is no one more suitable than you.”
Rines pressed further.
“Are there really so few people you can trust?”
“It is to prevent a repeat of what happened last time. I trust your instincts and your ability.”
“Ephinas Eir, I realize this may be a delicate question…”
“Speak.”
“I recall that about two years ago, a similar incident took place. Are you perhaps keeping that in mind?”
At the mention of the event known as the Grand Temple’s greatest scandal, Eir’s face darkened.
It had been a string of indiscriminate disappearances, meticulously concealed for years because several of the temple’s own high-ranking priests were involved. From the beginning to the end, there had been no part of it that wasn’t shocking.
Though the ringleader and his followers were all thrown into prison and made to pay for their crimes, the Grand Temple had been struggling ever since to erase the infamy.
“They say this case is somewhat different from that indiscriminate kidnapping. That’s why, this time, collaboration with the royal envoys seems likely.”
Which meant the royal family still did not fully trust the temple. Given what had happened, Rines could hardly fault them, and let the matter pass without protest.
“In what way is it different?”
“Before that—will you join the investigation?”
Eir wanted a firm answer first. Rines replied without hesitation.
“Yes, I will.”
It was convenient—he needed an excuse to move about the capital freely anyway. Had someone else asked, he might have pretended to deliberate, but for Eir, there was no need.
To Rines, the woman before him was nearly an absolute truth.
“This time, there are fewer victims, but they share a distinct trait.”
“What trait…?”
“Young and beautiful women.”
Rines’s expression immediately turned grave. As if expecting it, Eir calmly added,
“Mostly daughters of good families, which is why their houses are lodging strong protests. You will hear the details once you join the investigation team.”
She handed him a token of identification and a slip of paper with the meeting place and time written on it. Rines carefully accepted and examined them.
“To clear away the disgrace of that time, we must conduct a proper investigation.”
“Still, is my experience not lacking for a role this important?”
“One appoints people according to ability. Ephinas Benjamin also recommended you. The others will accept you without question.”
Why did that man recommend me too?
Suddenly finding himself favored by the powerful, Rines could not decide whether to feel pleased or uneasy. He did want advancement, but something about it left a sour taste.
After checking the note and tucking it away, he rose. Eir’s voice was steady.
“Then I leave it in your hands, Rines Sandria.”
The meeting place was in a building on the outer edge of the Grand Temple. When he pushed open the door, several figures were already inside.
Few were familiar to him, suggesting they came from different affiliations. That was probably for the best.
“Rines Sandria?”
The problem was the few familiar faces.
“You’re joining this as well?”
Faced with Daniel Sandria’s questioning look, Rines mirrored it exactly, even pointing a finger.
“And you’re on this investigation team too?”
Wasn’t he the brilliant barrier mage likely to succeed Ephinas Benjamin? Whatever the nobles said, a Guardian’s position required skill and diligence above all else. Their mission was to defend the temple.
So why stick a man with a guaranteed career here? Could it be factional struggles?
“Well… personal reasons. That’s how it turned out.”
Apparently not.
Rines glanced around, then leaned closer to whisper.
“Do you know any of the missing women personally?”
“Ridiculous. Do you think I’d involve myself with common women?”
His look of disgust suggested it truly wasn’t that.
“You just thought I was a nuisance, didn’t you?”
“When did I ever?”
Good grief. Sharp as ever.
Rines had half-planned to use his time outside the temple to track down the old woman said to have given away that crystal orb. From a mage’s perspective, she was likely still in the capital. Anyone capable of making such a tool was no ordinary practitioner—probably a researcher, with a strong inclination to observe the results of her experiments.
Not that Rines cared to explain why he understood such a twisted mindset. Just remembering certain mad scholars in the temple sent a chill through him.
Still, having to work alongside this meddlesome man would be no easy task. Casting Daniel a sidelong glare, Rines voiced a thought.
“If you volunteered, you must know the internal details.”
“To some degree.”
“Who is the royal family sending?”
“That is—”
“Oh, you’re all gathered already. It seems we’re late.”
The door opened, and several figures in priestly garb entered. Despite their numbers, their disciplined movements revealed them as soldiers.
The moment the door shut, the man at their head removed the hood he had pulled low. His easy smile contrasted sharply with the way Rines’s brow furrowed. Daniel looked at him curiously.
The man stepped forward and offered his hand.
“Tirain May.”
Pleased to meet you.
“So, I’d like to delay this deadline a little.”
Cordelia spoke calmly, a slice of apple pie and a cup of tea before her.
Though she had already written as much in a letter, she felt it best to speak in person. Her father had always said that when dealing with people, sincerity was paramount.
But her nerves proved needless, for Luther simply nodded with his usual genial smile.
“I expected as much. Word has it suitors have been flocking to the ducal house.”
“R-really?”
“Yes. Knowing your nature, my lady, it would be stranger if you could put pen to paper under such circumstances.”
He probably meant no harm, yet somehow it sounded like a jab.
Cordelia narrowed her eyes at him, but Luther skillfully avoided her gaze. Feeling more at ease, she took a bite of pie.
By now she surely had enough money to hire help for such errands, but she remained unfailingly diligent.
“In truth, few authors are as productive as you. Why not think of this as a chance for rest?”
“You mean it’s all right?”
“Writing in a rush isn’t bad, but proper rest is necessary too. Forcing it never yields good results.”
“Hmm, I suppose so. Still, I’ve never felt this blocked before.”
“You still don’t have a story you wish to tell?”
“Well, actually, lately I…”
Cordelia nearly mentioned Noah but closed her mouth. Luther tilted his head, eyes round.
“Yes?”
“Oh, nothing.”
He was one of the few who knew her secret, and after more than ten years together, he was nearly family. Unlike her sisters, he was a confidant of sorts—when she found someone she liked, she sometimes sought his advice. He was a good listener, and discreet.
And truthfully, being with Noah had sparked many ideas and scenes she could use.
So why couldn’t she say a word about it?
“It’s not that I don’t want to write. I just… can’t seem to organize it.”
With a groan, Cordelia made as if to tear at her own hair. Not even the sweet pie could fully soothe her restless mood.
“Luther, do you think if I wrote in a different genre, it would sell?”
“What sort of genre?”
“Well, for example… chivalric tales, or adventure stories?”
At her mention of the kingdom’s most popular field, Luther looked a little surprised but nodded.
“If it’s entertaining, any manuscript will sell.”
‘This story is fascinating. Rough, perhaps, but that rawness conveys intense emotion. I can’t wait to see how the tragic romance of the two protagonists will end.’
That had been his praise for her very first manuscript, flawed as it was. At sixteen, what had she been thinking to write something like that?
Those were stormy years indeed. Back then, she hadn’t thought much about background or context—only about plunging deep into the emotions between two characters.
A beautiful princess, and the prince of a rival kingdom who loved her.
If she wrote such a story now, it would surely turn out very differently. Living through something similar herself, she found it agonizing.
To give up everything for a burning love. It had been easy to immerse herself in such characters before, but imagining herself as one now was far harder.
Especially when the other had far more to lose.
“But why the sudden thought of writing something different?”
