The Tomboy's Choice (3)
"I know. You were born into one of the Holy Kingdom's top ten noble houses, but that unyielding nature of yours saw you shoved aside in the power struggles at home. You were all but driven out, and so you took up the lordship of this archdiocese."
"Even after you arrived, you hadn't the strength to cast out the corrupt priests who hold the real authority here, and so you've spent every day since nursing that quiet grief."
"But what does any of that matter now? Two of the Church's Three Sacred Relics sit in Your Eminence's hands at this very moment. And if there is one thing that sets the Holy Kingdom apart from every other nation, it is this: the greater part of its power is founded upon the measure of one's faith. These relics will stand as proof of that faith—proof no one alive can refute. Will they not?"
"…Just what is it you want from me?"
"Please don't concern yourself. What I ask is quite simple."
I raised my fingers one by one as I addressed the Archbishop.
"First. These relics were discovered by Your Eminence. Publicly, I have nothing whatsoever to do with this affair. No one besides you and me must ever learn that I delivered these relics into your hands."
"If I had my way, I'd demand a Seal of Silence—but you're famous for your integrity, so I trust that won't be necessary. Swear it. Swear you will never speak of this to anyone."
"Ah… mm… that is…"
I had expected an immediate yes. Instead, to my surprise, the Archbishop hesitated. Uncharacteristically, he let his gaze wander, refusing to meet my eyes.
Then again, he'd just had two impossibly precious things dumped in his lap. A little strain on the nerves was hardly unreasonable.
"Your Eminence. Please swear it."
"That is… hah… very well. I will never speak of this matter to another living soul. I swear it upon my honor."
Only when I pressed him again did the Archbishop steel himself and take the oath. That he hadn't answered at once was a little unexpected, but this was not a man who lied about such things. If he'd been the sort to chase personal gain, he never would have been pushed all the way out here from the homeland in the first place. And it wasn't as if I had any other option. I would simply have to trust him.
I unfolded a second finger and continued laying out my terms.
"Second. In exchange for the relics, provide our house with Holy Water. This archdiocese is, for all intents and purposes, the Holy Kingdom's headquarters within the Empire. Every shipment from the Empire's churches passes through here on its way to the homeland."
"Even without real authority, diverting a portion of that volume for other purposes should be well within your discretion. And with the relics in hand, I imagine that authority you didn't have will exist soon enough anyway."
"…Just what do you intend to do with that much Holy Water?"
"I simply need a modest stockpile. As you know, our territory borders the Forbidden Zone, so our people suffer no small amount of harm from the Magi that drifts in. This isn't for private gain—it's for subjects who are already suffering. I don't believe it runs so far afoul of the Church's teachings."
"…Very well. I'll see about adjusting a portion of the Holy Water bound for the homeland, within reasonable limits."
"And my final request. Your Eminence—return to the Holy Kingdom. Take the relics with you. Announce to all the world that Cynthia's relics have come home, and establish your presence as the one who brought them back. You are not merely a man of integrity without ability. Once you return to the homeland, taking a high office and serving as a pillar of stability should be well within your means."
"If the Holy Kingdom is to be kept from sinking any further into the abyss, it needs people like you. Those three things are all I ask of Your Eminence in exchange for the relics."
"…That's all…?"
When I finished, the Archbishop's eyes went wide, and he asked the question as if he could not quite believe it.
"I've now stated all of my requests."
"That's really it? The demands of a man who brought two Sacred Relics…? Haha… this is absurd… just who are you…"
The Archbishop gave a hollow little laugh. Then, in the end, he accepted every one of my terms and swore he would carry them out in good faith.
As the conversation drew to a close, he apologized for having misjudged me, and I accepted his apology without hesitation. We agreed to send word separately should anything arise in the future. With my business here concluded, I left Westford behind.
And it was only much later that I remembered Sanders, who would be waiting desperately for the payment I'd promised him.
Archbishop Timothy felt as though he had just lived through a dream.
Those who claimed to have found the Sacred Relics had, surprisingly, been numerous throughout the Holy Kingdom's history. Fool the Church even once, and wealth and glory would both fall into your hands in an instant—so more people than one might expect had cooked up a scheme on the off chance it might work.
Yet not a single one of them had ever passed the Holy Kingdom's exacting procedures. And the only means of final verification—strands of hair from the First Saintess—had been consumed with the passing years, until now only a scant few remained. The Holy Kingdom still posted bounties for the relics publicly, but within its walls, the prevailing mood had long since turned toward giving up.
And it was at such a time that a young nobleman appeared before him.
At first he took the boy for another of the usual sort—come to offer a bribe dressed up as a donation. But upon seeing his face and hearing the surname Reid, he was able to confirm from the peerage registry that this was the son of Albert Reid, with whom he had once been acquainted.
Thinking it a kind of fate, he had meant to offer a cup of tea and send the boy on his way. Instead, the young man had the audacity to put the words "Sacred Relics" in his mouth and attempt to deceive him.
At first, his rage truly climbed to the top of his skull. Old acquaintance or not, he wanted to summon the paladins then and there and have the boy thrashed on the spot.
But astonishingly, the items he had brought were truly—truly—Sacred Relics.
He had wept at the sight of that impossible miracle. At the same time, a fearful thought had taken root: what would Edwin demand in exchange?
But what the young man wanted was neither wealth nor glory. Only the well-being and peace of his people. The terms he presented were astonishingly small beside the gifts he had laid down.
Just who was he? How had Edwin managed to bring two Sacred Relics that no one else had ever found? The Archbishop could not get a handle on it at all.
He had even seen straight through the Holy Kingdom's darkness—something no outsider should have known existed.
Outwardly, the Holy Kingdom was a devout and pious nation, representing humanity in service to the will of the Three Gods. Internally, however, it had been rotting through for a long, long time. Of late, even the Holy Kingdom's highest leadership had come to indulge in that corruption as a matter of daily habit. The scale of it was such that taking bribes dressed up as donations at the foreign branches looked like an adorable little joke.
His assignment to the Westford Archdiocese had been half the result of pressure from above—and half his own wish to look upon that state of affairs no longer.
And yet, to a man living in that kind of exile, Edwin had said: go back, and do your duty.
What's more, when Timothy had asked about the relics' origin, the young man had deflected, leaving him only with the words that it was a matter of a kind he could not hope to understand. At first he had briefly suspected they had been obtained by illicit means, but he had realized long before now that this was not the case. In which case, perhaps…
"Did he receive a revelation?"
It was hardly a common occurrence, but throughout history, those who claimed to have received revelations from the gods had appeared more than a few times. How he had obtained the relics. Why he wanted neither wealth nor glory. Why he had asked Timothy—bound by the constraints of his own nobility—to return to the Holy Kingdom in his stead and serve as its pillar. If Edwin had received a revelation, every last one of those questions would be answered—
From behind the Archbishop, still spinning out his private theories, came the sudden sound of something dropping.
Thud.
Ah, yes. She was here too, wasn't she… Perhaps it was age, but these days he found himself forgetting things more and more. Earlier, too, he had briefly forgotten Edwin was standing right beside him and lost himself in emotion before the relics—an awkward little scene had followed.
Archbishop Timothy let out a long sigh.
"Hah… You may come out now."
He directed the words at the curtains by the window, but from that quarter, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, came no response at all. Anyone who didn't know better might have thought the Archbishop had gone senile rather ahead of schedule.
"I said come out. Young Master Reed has already gone, and there is no longer any point in hiding there. I give you my word I won't scold you, so that's enough of that."
He addressed the curtains a second time, and this time, there was movement. Something fidgeted behind the heavy drapes, and then, at last, revealed itself.
"Hehe… Father…"
The figure that had been hiding was a beautiful girl, dressed in vestments embroidered with gold thread and wearing a veil decorated just as splendidly. A girl with bright white hair and blue eyes peeked out from behind the curtain, an embarrassed smile on her lips, and carefully stepped forward.