The Banquet Begins
Beautiful music echoed softly through the crimson ballroom, and within it, the guests began one by one to raise their glasses.
"Hohoho, good evening, madam... I don't suppose you remember me, but..."
"Haha, then we'll settle this matter as we discussed... and as for the next one..."
"M'lady, how about you share a dance with me..."
From time immemorial, a banquet had been one and the same as a meeting ground for the nobility. A place where business was discussed over exchanged pleasantries, where talk of connections and power flowed back and forth with every word. Even the simple act of offering someone a drink carried its own weight of meaning — such was the nature of a banquet.
"Saintess, would you do me the honor of joining me somewhere quiet for a little chat..."
"Saintess, how would you feel about paying a visit to our domain sometime...?"
"Oh my... if it isn't the Saintess herself? Might you grace the tea party I am hosting next...?"
And now, in the midst of these distinguished nobles, one woman found herself besieged by invitations from every direction. In place of her usual black habit, she wore a gown of pure white, a veil of fine gauze fluttering delicately about her — a sight that drew every eye in the hall. The Saintess, Hildegard. She had chosen this day to show herself at the banquet.
"My, my... your beauty truly lives up to every rumor..."
"I hear you are still quite young... I can scarcely imagine how radiant you will be once you have fully blossomed..."
"Indeed... even catching only glimpses of her between the folds of that veil... one could tell her features were anything but ordinary."
For a woman who had never once shown her face at any gathering, her mere presence here had already sent ripples through the entire hall. Some simply showered her with praise, eyes drinking in the sight of her again and again...
'If only I could invite the Saintess to my tea party... my name would rise all the higher in high society, wouldn't it?'
'They say she rarely enjoys gatherings... but since she has come all this way, who knows what might be possible...'
'If only I could get the Saintess to promote our company's goods... sales might well skyrocket...!'
...while others schemed, eager to latch onto her for their own profit. Of course, before any of them could even draw near, the holy knights surrounding her cut them off.
"Now see here! How dare you lay hands upon my person?! Do you know who I am, and still you dare...!"
"...It is for the Saintess's safety. We beg your understanding, Marquis Jonassen."
'...Ha, honestly... I'm exhausted...'
None of it, of course, did anything to lighten the weariness pressing down on the Saintess. She had never welcomed being swarmed by crowds like this to begin with. Even at the Academy, she had often fled to the infirmary simply to escape the people who clustered around her.
'...Those are the ones who visited the Church a while back, trying to peddle their trading companies.'
Worse still, everyone pressing in around her now had come armed with an agenda of their own. In other words, they were people whose desires burned bright and hot. A woman who could barely fend off even Academy students approaching with genuine admiration and goodwill had no intention whatsoever of dealing with men whose bellies bulged over their belts or whose mustaches fluttered as they preened.
"...Thern, I would like to rest for a while."
"Of course, Saintess. I shall escort you to the VIP room at once."
In the end, what she chose was avoidance. Using fatigue as her excuse, she slipped away from the hall.
It might well have struck some as strange — a Saintess who could heal any wound at will, claiming to feel ill. But what of it? If the Saintess said she was unwell, then unwell she was.
"Ah— I, uh... Saintess...!"
"Step aside. Are you truly attempting to bar the Saintess's path?"
Even the Pope — rumored to be the master of the Church — addressed her with formal honorifics in official settings. That woman was the Saintess herself. And if such a woman said she wished to rest, who in their right mind would dare stand in her way?
"N-no, of course not... I wish you a swift recovery..."
"W-wait, Father! To send her off like this, with nothing to show for it...!"
"Quiet, boy... please...!"
Men who were not even dukes might nurse their own grievances, but not one of them dared let it past their lips. In the end, they could only see her off, hearts sinking like a dog that had chased a chicken all day and caught nothing.
"S-Saintess, I haven't finished what I was saying—"
"Please step aside. We will be escorting the Saintess now."
"...Ha, hey... I am in the middle of speaking with the Saintess, so kindly learn the difference between where to intrude and where not to...!"
Of course, a few among them committed acts that were truly reckless and insolent. It made no difference.
"Urk—!"
"For us, the Saintess's safety comes before all else."
"Wh-what is the meaning of this...!"
"And the Saintess has just informed us that she is feeling unwell."
"Kgh... urk..."
"...Do you have anything further to say?"
Men like that tasted the might of the holy knights at her back and promptly tucked their tails. They had pounced to advance their honor and their connections, only to find themselves marked by the very nobles around them.
"...Tsk, tsk. What was that fool's name and house? Best to sever ties quickly with any family that could produce such an imbecile..."
"The Saintess declares herself unwell, and he blocks her path? Can that even be called the act of a sane man?"
"...It may be wisest to pretend we have never heard of that man's family for a while..."
All of them, after all, now bore the title of men who had dared accost an ailing Saintess and been thrown out for it.
"Saintess, are you alright? Surely your condition has not worsened amid all that commotion..."
"N-no, I'm fine, so let us simply hurry back to my room..."
"As you wish. I shall escort you there at once."
Ignoring the disappointed stares raining down from every side, the Saintess slipped out of the banquet hall and into her room — and the moment the door closed behind her, she flopped face-down onto the bed.
"Ugh... honestly, I cannot stand places this crowded, I truly cannot..."
"Saintess... do try to keep up appearances..."
"And why should I? It's only you and me in here, Thern..."
She tore off the veil that had been fluttering about her and sprawled across the bed, rolling from side to side. With every trace of dignity cast aside, her guardian knight Thern felt his headache deepen all the more.
"Saintess, it may be fine now, but if you were to show such behavior in front of others later—"
"...Thern, when will I be able to go back? Why was I even called to a banquet like this in the first place...?"
"Did I not tell you? You are to bestow a Blessing upon the one who succeeds to a title this time."
To that utterly indifferent answer, the Saintess offered no reply — only puffed-out cheeks, swollen so wide that anyone watching might have mistaken her for having three faces.
"Do you honestly think that makes any sense?!"
"What doesn't, may I ask?"
"Wouldn't a senior Bishop have been more than enough for a task like that?"
"Yes."
"Then why go to the trouble of summoning me...? You know full well what it means when the imperial family calls for me by name."
"...."
"The Pope is no different. The man who barged uninvited into the palace, vowing to settle accounts face-to-face — why would he suddenly..."
With her cheeks still puffed, she let her thoughts drift back to yesterday.
'U-um, Your Holiness... what of the matter concerning that letter...?'
'Ah, right. Tomorrow, you simply go as planned.'
'Ye...yes? W-wait, hold on—Your Holiness... no, Dad?!'
'Hahaha. Off you go, then — do your best out there.'
There had been no word of anything being "settled smoothly" — nothing but that sly smile of his. A smile that seemed to say he already knew everything, so she needn't worry.
'...Ha, the more I think about it, the more certain I am that I came here for nothing...'
[That is not so, my child.]
"Wh... what?!"
A voice had echoed through the mind of the woman lying face-down in her blankets. The voice of the One she had worshipped, believed in, and never once thought to doubt.
"G-Goddess...!"
"...?"
"N-no, it's nothing..."
[...Still the same as ever, child.]
Thern's puzzled gaze lingered for a moment on the small cry she had let slip without meaning to, but she had no room in her mind for such things now. The One she served had just deigned to speak to her, directly and in person.
'G-Goddess, why would You... to someone like me...?'
[Child, I who lack virtue have a favor I wish to ask of you.]
'I-I shall serve You however I can, please!'
[I beg of you... do not turn away the one who will come to you seeking help...]
'...Pardon?'
[....]
'G-Goddess? Um... excuse me...'
Leaving behind only those cryptic words, the voice departed for somewhere far beyond her reach. Arriving without warning and vanishing just as suddenly, it had thrown the Saintess's mind into utter confusion.
'...Someone is going to ask me for help? When...? Here, at this banquet...?'
"Saintess, it will soon be time for you to make your appearance."
"Ah... is it that time already?"
"Yes. Just now... word arrived that Duke Reinhardt has passed through the gates of the Imperial Palace."
"...."
"He was the last guest to arrive, so I expect His Majesty will show himself before long as well — together with that person."
There was no need to ask who "that person" meant. It had to be the one His Majesty intended to honor with a title in person today.
'...I heard it is exceedingly rare for His Majesty to bestow a title with his own hands.'
Whoever they were, she thought, they had to be someone truly extraordinary. Nothing less would move His Majesty to act in person — the man they once said never let the blood dry on his blade.
"...Hm, now that I think of it, I heard that person only returned to the Empire recently as well..."
"Of whom do you speak, Saintess?"
"Ah... uh... you know, that person!"
"...I am afraid I cannot fathom whom you mean."
"...Forget it."
Dong— Dong—
The toll of a bell rang through the palace — the sound that proclaimed the banquet's true beginning.
"Saintess, let us prepare to depart."
"Alright... let's get this over with quickly."
With a long, deep sigh, she rose from the bed — never once imagining how long this banquet would take to end.