Chapter 3
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: Won the Pope's Favor (1)
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The morning of the succession ceremony began to draw near.
A few hours from now, I would receive the blessings of countless people and formally become the Duke of the North.
In other words, the Great Guardian of the North, Ruler of the Radain Holy Kingdom's Northern Territories, and head of the Bilheim Family.
"...This is my last chance."
I was done waiting for someone else to help me.
I'd carry out my retirement plan with my own two hands.
In the early dawn hours, when no one else in the manor was awake yet.
I bundled up in a coat thick enough to ward off the chill even after trudging through those frozen wastes for hours, slipped on a mask to hide my face,
and stuffed the key to the bank vault holding my slush fund from the warehouse last night into an inner pocket of the coat.
Then, I cautiously opened the bedroom window and peered outside.
"...Good. Here goes..."
Confirming no one was around, I leaped straight out the window.
The bedroom was on the second floor, but I grabbed a branch of the large garden tree for one buffer, then landed in the soft snow piled on the ground for another.
The impact of the fall was cushioned, and I touched down safely in the backyard.
This was my personal escape route from the manor, one I'd used to slip past the servants guarding my bedroom door when Father had me confined to quarters.
"No one's around, right?"
I scanned the surroundings once more,
"Farewell, you bastards! I'm off—to that warm southern paradise!"
and bolted toward the opposite side of the manor.
The rising morning sun illuminated the snow-covered forest path.
Clop, clop.
Three white carriages raced along that forest road.
The exteriors of the carriages bore the Radain Church's symbol—a cross within an inverted triangle—etched in gold,
and the mounted knights escorting them wore ornate, imposing armor.
"..."
Inside the central carriage sat a golden-haired, golden-eyed beauty gazing impassively out the window.
"It's been a long time since I've come to the Northern Territories in person. Last time was... let's see... about 150 years ago?"
Her face looked no older than twelve or thirteen at most.
Yet her speech carried a weight that didn't match, and peering into those golden eyes revealed an unfathomable depth.
Mercadie Radain, Pope of the Radain Church.
She was en route to the Bilheim manor in her carriage to attend the succession ceremony for Robertus Bilheim, the fifth son of the Bilheim Family who would soon inherit the title of Duke of the North.
"Hmm. The Bilheim Family, eh..."
The Bilheim Grand Duchy.
A venerable house of loyal retainers that had guarded the Radain Holy Kingdom's northern border against the monsters of the Helkart Mountains for centuries.
"..."
Yet the Pope's expression darkened at the thought of that very Bilheim Family.
"...I wonder what this generation's head will be like."
It had been over two hundred years since she ascended to the papacy.
From Robertus's great-great-great-grandfather, the Duke of the North seven generations back, all the way to the previous duke, Palthion.
Mercadie had watched as Pope over how the descendants of the Bilheim Family governed the Northern Territories.
"Theosis, who became Duke of the North around the same time I took the throne, was an excellent leader. His son Ilad wasn't quite his father's equal, but still a decent sort..."
But starting with the generation after Ilad, the Bilheim heirs began to go strange.
"The next Duke of the North seemed fine at first, but in his later years, he kept clashing with the local lords."
His successors weren't good rulers either.
Levying harsh taxes, brutally oppressing the people...
These tyrannies grew worse with each generation.
Just one generation ago, under Palthion Duke, the vassal houses had even sent letters directly to the Holy Capital denouncing him.
"And that Palthion Duke perished in a White Dragon attack while traveling to the Holy Capital Assembly with his other four sons."
Thus, the vacant ducal seat had automatically passed to the Bilheim Family's sole remaining direct heir, Robertus.
"...I hope this generation's Duke of the North turns out to be a decent one."
Mercadie murmured softly, her voice laced with worry.
Lately, even within the Papal Court, opinions were rising that proper measures needed to be taken in the Northern Territories.
If this new Duke proved unfit as well...
In the worst case, the Bilheim Family could lose their status and be expelled from the Northern Territories.
Clop... clop...
"...Hm?"
Suddenly, the carriage slowed, then came to a full stop.
Knock knock.
Mercadie opened the carriage door at the knock, and the captain of the escort knelt on one knee, his face etched with concern, to report.
"Your Holiness, forgive us. One of the other carriages lost a wheel suddenly, so we've halted for now."
"Ah, I see. No big deal, then. Take your time fixing it."
She answered lightly, hopped down from the carriage, and brushed past the captain.
"Your Holiness? Where are you going?"
"I'll take a look around the forest while the carriage is being repaired. Sitting cooped up has left me stiff."
"Then allow an escort—"
"No need."
She waved him off irritably.
"Your protection is just for show anyway. Even if your entire escort tried to assassinate me right now, not one of you could lay a scratch on me."
"..."
The middle-aged captain bit his lip, his pride as a warrior wounded, but he had no rebuttal.
"I'll be back~"
Ignoring him entirely, the Pope strode off lightly toward the opposite side of the carriages.
"Huff... huff..."
I ran with all my might through the dense underbrush of the forest.
The escape route I'd chosen was the woods behind the manor.
A little farther south along the forest path, and I'd reach a small village.
From there, I'd hit the bank for my money, hire a carriage, and flee straight across the border.
"Huff... J-just... a quick break."
Over an hour of running—I should be safe by now.
Leaning against a tree, I yanked off the stuffy mask and caught my breath.
In the silent winter woods, only my ragged breathing echoed.
Crunch—
"!"
Then, from beyond the shadowed trees, came the sound of someone stepping on snow.
No way... had pursuit caught up already?
The footsteps drew closer, and my heart pounded harder in sync—
"...Huh. What a curious thing. A kid wandering around in these remote woods."
And the one who appeared was a blonde little girl.
"Damn, you scared me."
Tension easing, I let out the breath I'd been holding.
Thank goodness—not a Bilheim Family soldier come to drag me back.
"..."
But... what the heck was she?
I examined the mysterious blonde girl who'd popped up out of nowhere.
Early teens, maybe.
Her face was cute enough for her age, but it promised to grow into a beauty that would make men weep.
Her snow-white skin was flawless, without a single freckle.
But more eye-catching than her long blonde hair or looks was her outfit.
A white robe adorned with golden thread crosses on the chest and shoulders.
The garb of a Radain Church cleric.
And not just any—a pristine white like it'd just been laundered, embroidered lavishly with gold; clearly expensive.
"...Ah. I get it."
Okay.
A refined-looking girl in pricey priestly robes.
I approached carefully so as not to frighten her and spoke gently.
"Looks like you've lost your way, miss. How did you end up all the way out here from the cathedral?"
Probably the young lady from some wealthy merchant or noble family who'd joined the Radain Church.
"...Miss?"
The girl blinked in confusion, cutely tilting her head to look around.
"You mean me?"
"Who else is here?"
I replied with my kindest smile, doing my best to observe noble etiquette.
...This was a problem, though.
I had no idea how she'd gotten lost here, but I couldn't just ignore a kid like this.
Still, I needed to move fast before pursuit arrived...
...Damn it.
I might've lived like a prodigal son, but I wasn't some human scum like my father or brothers.
I'd come this far; slowing down a bit wouldn't hurt.
Nothing for it but to take her to the village and hand her off at the church there.
"Miss, if it's alright with you, may I have the honor of escorting you to the nearby village?"
I flashed my gentlest smile and offered my right hand.
"...You want me to hold your hand?"
"Yes. The path is rough; wouldn't want you tripping."
"..."
She stared piercingly at my outstretched hand for a long moment.
"Hahaha!"
Then burst into hearty laughter.
"Right, of course. A gentleman escorts a lady. Naturally."
With that, her small hand gripped mine firmly.
"Ngh."
The sudden tight squeeze drew an involuntary groan from me.
Why's she so strong?
"...Shall we go? It's about thirty minutes' walk to a small village. I'll see you safely to their church."
"Yes, please do."
Her speech sounded just like a girl's, but somehow it felt like dealing with a wise old man.
Anyway, hand in hand, the two of us set off once more through the quiet woods.
'What an amusing boy. Not recognizing me, the Pope who's sat the throne for over two hundred years—and I'm not just anyone. Well, I suppose I haven't done much public activity in the last few decades.'
Mercadie glanced sidelong at the black-haired youth holding her hand, suppressing the laughter bubbling up.
Of course, she'd already realized he was Robertus Bilheim, the next Duke of the North.
In this northern continent, only the Bilheim Family had black hair and silver eyes.
'Mistaking me for a lost novice nun... Still, the fact he didn't just walk on by and offered help shows a good heart. But why is he here right now?'
Feeling her gaze, Robertus smiled faintly, and Mercadie beamed back in response.
'Perfect timing, anyway. While I ask why he's here, I can test if this boy is fit for the Duke of the North's seat...'