Episode 7 — Something's Wrong

Far more people had gathered before the main gates of the Papal Palace than I had expected. Priests of the Church stood in snow-white vestments, holy knights beside them in pure-white plate; high-ranking clergy had come all the way down the steps to see the departure off, and beyond the open gates, citizens were crying the Saintess's name at the top of their lungs.

Before the Saintess's ornate carriage stood a white-haired old man, leaning on a golden staff.

Pope Aurelius.

Highest authority of the Holy Kingdom, he stood with his back slightly bent, his eyes gentler than anyone's. In the original novel he was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠portrayed as benevolent to all—and yet, strangely enough, every decision he handed down always left the Holy Kingdom with the greatest possible gain.

"You've come, Elysia."

The Pope approached with a mild smile. It was not an official form of address. It was the call of an ordinary grandfather who had come out to see a granddaughter off on a long road.

His calloused hand stroked my hair, light as a breath.

"You needn't be so tense just because you're going to the Empire. Wherever you are, the blessing of Lunaris, Goddess of Light, will be with you."

He laid a hand upon my forehead and murmured a short prayer, and the clergy and citizens standing nearby pressed their palms together, faces moved. To any eye, it was a perfect, warm farewell.

The Pope's gaze traveled on to Nina, standing one step behind me.

"Nina, was it?"

"Y-yes! Your Holiness!"

Startled by the sudden address, Nina ducked her head low.

"It's a long road. See to it that the Saintess doesn't skip her meals."

"Yes! I won't let her miss a single one!"

At Nina's firm reply, the Pope laughed, a warm rumble, and nodded.

Kindness enough to remember even the name of a mere maid attending the Saintess. And yet, inside that warmth, I felt a strange dissonance.

Was it nothing more than ordinary human concern? Or was it meticulous information control—the name, the background, the temperament of everyone around me, already in his grasp?

Then the Pope wrapped my hand gently in his and drew me a little closer. The smile on his face remained mild, but his voice sank until only I could hear it.

"Elysia."

"Yes, Your Holiness."

"The Empire will be watching far more than you think."

The fingers resting on his staff shifted, light as nothing.

"Your grades. The people you draw close. Even whom you offer ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the first smile."

"..."

"Watch carefully those who distinguish themselves in the entrance examination. The new stars who will lead this continent will gather there."

It wore the shape of advice a grandfather might give his granddaughter. In essence, it was a politician's order to the Holy Kingdom's representative.

"People take the Saintess's words for the will of God."

The Pope tapped the back of my hand, once, twice.

"...I will remember, Your Holiness."

No sooner had the answer ended than the Pope turned the subject in an easy tone.

"I hear you sent a survey party to the Valley of Weeping before you set out?"

For an instant, my heart dropped. I recovered my composure at once. There was no way the Holy Kingdom's highest authority could fail to know that a survey team sent from within the Papal Palace had gone to the Valley of Weeping and back. If he had feigned ignorance and let it pass, that would have been the more suspicious thing.

"I thought I might have received an ominous revelation recently."

It was the surest, safest excuse the office of Saintess could offer.

The Pope did not press. He ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠nodded, soft and easy.

"I see. If it is the will of God, it must not be taken lightly."

He smiled with a grandfather's kindness, but the words that followed were underlaid with unmistakable calculation.

"Mind, though, that the Empire may take an excessive escort as a show of distrust. Once you have crossed the border, have the Imperial Knights take the head of the procession."

The Saintess's safety mattered—but he was weighing diplomatic impression and practical gain between the two nations at the same time.

He took my shoulder in an affectionate grip once more.

I did not ask for whom.

I bowed my head in quiet respect, then turned and walked on at a measured pace.

A horn sounded, low and heavy, announcing the departure. Beginning with the scout cavalry at the front, the Church's company of holy knights, my carriage, the supply wagons, and the rear guard began to move in file. Right beside the carriage, Bern de Lacroix rode in white at a steady interval, posture set to draw his sword at any moment.

The moment we passed the gates, the citizens' cheers rolled in like a wave.

"Saintess! Come back safely!"

"May the light of Goddess Lunaris be with you always!"

Seated across from me, Nina waved carefully out the carriage window, her face bright with excitement. I leaned my back against the swaying wall and looked outside.

In all my life as Kang Jinhyeok, no one had ever seen me off. No one waited when I left the house, and no one welcomed me when I came back. Now thousands of people were crying my name and opening a road before me.

But there was no room to sink into the feeling. My eyes went past the cheers, to the distant northern mountains the procession still had to reach.

Hours passed that way. A little farther on, and we were due to reach the border outpost.

My nerves had been drawn tight from the moment we set out. Every time the carriage turned onto a forest track, wheels rumbling, I checked the window at even the faintest shiver of a branch. Holy power lay thin across the fingertips of both hands gathered beneath my skirt, ready to unfold defense or healing at any instant.

"Saintess, you've been looking out the window this whole time."

Across from me, Nina, fidgeting with the handle of the egg tart basket, tilted her head.

"I was looking at the scenery."

"It's just the same trees going by, though?"

"The trees are lovely, aren't they?"

"Mm... are they?"

A moment later, a scout rode up to the carriage window on the sound of hooves.

"No abnormalities within three kilometers ahead."

"Thank you. Please keep watching."

The second report. When afternoon came, a third followed, and a fourth, one after another without pause. All of them the same.

As that blank, featureless calm repeated again and again, nerves strung bowstring-tight began, little by little, to slack. At first I had pressed the scouts on numbers and traces in careful detail, but by evening I was down to a slight nod.

"Nina, what's the first thing you want to do when we reach the capital?"

At the question, her eyes lit up. As if she had been waiting, she pulled herself right to the edge of the seat, and the words spilled out.

"First I want to see the shops in the capital! I want to look at Imperial dresses that would suit you, Saintess... Oh, and maids can stay in the Academy dormitory too, right? You mustn't leave me behind."

"Of course we'll go together. If I go alone, who's going to make the tea?"

"Right! My black tea is the best, isn't it?"

Nina smiled, pleased with herself, and looked out the window.

"I really never thought His Holiness would remember even my name. He seems like such a warm person."

"...So he does. He isn't one to forget a name."

More precisely, he was a man who never forgot the name of a useful person.

I swallowed the rest of the sentence that had climbed to my throat and shaped a smile.

As the sun began to sink, we passed the border outpost of Luminaris. The Empire's escort knights, waiting there, joined the procession and, as the Pope had instructed, took the lead. Before I knew it the sun had set, and the first day's journey was drawing to a close.

And still, nothing had happened.

The first night's camp was flawless, without a single gap. Along the outer edge, high priests had laid a double holy barrier, and holy knights on rotating watches stood the cordon with torches in hand. Bern circled the forest within a kilometer of the camp himself, and only then, as if reassured, slid his sword back into its sheath. A defense like that would notice even a fair-sized pack of magical beasts before they could draw near.

"Saintess, you're not sleeping?"

Nina, unable to sleep, stepped out of the tent wrapped in a thin shawl. I was sitting on a log beside the small campfire at the center of the camp, looking up at the night sky.

"It felt a little close in there. You came out without sleeping too, Nina?"

"Knowing we'll reach the Valley of Weeping tomorrow, I just couldn't fall asleep."

Nina sat carefully beside me and lifted her head. Deep in a forest with little light, the sky blazed with more stars than anyone could count, sharp and clear, as if flicked from the tip of a brush.

"Saintess, were there always this many stars?"

"You could see them every night in the Holy Kingdom, too."

"At the Papal Palace the buildings are tall and there's so much light, I never got to see them like this."

Nina took the night sky in as if it were something wondrous, then pointed to one stretch of it.

"Look there. That one looks like an egg tart."

"Where?"

"There. They're gathered in a circle, and only the star in the middle is especially yellow."

"The star does look yellow. It is not, however, an egg tart."

"To my eyes, it is an egg tart. Maybe I'm hungry..."

A small growl came from Nina's stomach. She had left the basket packed that morning back in the carriage when she climbed down.

I let out a small laugh and drew her shawl closed.

"When we get to the capital, let's find a truly delicious tart shop."

"Really? We'll be able to look at the stars together at night in the capital too, won't we?"

"Of course."

I answered without a moment's hesitation. Yes. It would be so. I had come this far to make that future.

"Let's go to sleep now. We have to leave early tomorrow."

"Yes! Sweet dreams, Saintess!"

Even after Nina hurried off into the tent, I stayed where I was a while longer, watching the faint light of the holy barrier burning steady and safe. The forest was quiet. The night was at peace.

The next morning, the camp met the dawn looking not a whit different from the night before. The barrier bore no damage at all, and the scouts who had swept the surroundings through the whole of the dawn had found no threatening trace either.

A short while later I climbed into the carriage, drank the tea Nina poured for me, and leaned back against the cushioned seat. Across from me, Nina took a great bite of an egg tart left in the basket.

"Mm! It's still crispy, even after a day!"

"Eat slowly. You'll make yourself sick."

I quieted my breathing and fixed my attention on the empty air at the corner of my vision. Translucent letters rose in silence.

If all went as planned, around sunset today. The tragedy would begin when we passed through the center of the Valley of Weeping. But I had the terrain. The troops were enough. There was nothing I had failed to prepare.

I can change it.

I was about to draw my gaze away, holding that certainty, when—

Zzzt—!

The blue system window warped violently and spat red sparks.

"...Huh?"

The numbers scrambled of their own accord.

Kzzzt—!

Time had vanished. Nearly twelve hours that had still remained were wiped away in a single instant.

In that moment, the birdsong in the forest cut off all at once. The horses at the head of the column stopped together and blew harsh breath from their nostrils. The carriage lurched, hard.