Chapter 176
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 176
The Festival of Sacrifice was an event where an offering was made to the Sun Goddess.
"An offering?"
I frowned. This is supposed to be a romance fantasy novel, isn't it?
"They don't actually kill anyone. To be precise, someone just plays the role of the one who dies."
Ah. So they weren't sacrificing a real person, just having someone play the part for a ceremony. That was a relief.
The Festival of Sacrifice, as Gabriel described it, was an ancient event that sounded like it was pulled from a history book. It was more akin to a theatrical play than a genuine ritual.
The Sun Goddess loved all life, but she cherished humans the most. In particular, those she favored lived lives so long they bordered on immortality. Among them, the one said to be most beloved by the Goddess was a girl named Leah.
The Goddess's chosen child was both clever and lovely. Born in a small country village, Leah caught the Goddess's eye the moment she came into the world.
Leah’s mother had been born blind, deaf, and mute. But the Goddess, overjoyed by the child’s birth, bestowed a blessing upon the mother as well, curing her of all her ailments.
Not only that, but it was said the sun did not set for a hundred days over the village where Leah was born. Blessed by the Goddess, the village became incredibly fertile and prosperous. Rumor had it that the very foundation of the current Empire began in that village.
The Goddess called Leah her sister and shared her divine authority with her. Though born a human, Leah became a being who could rival a god.
As time passed, however, Leah grew arrogant. Living a near-immortal life under the Goddess's favor, she began to look down on everything and everyone.
Eventually, her envy turned toward the Sun Goddess herself. She boasted that if the Goddess were gone, she alone would wield all that power.
At the peak of her hubris, she resolved to kill the Goddess and take her place. Leah rebelled, but the Sun Goddess could not bring herself to harm the child she so adored.
In her stead, it was humans who executed Leah.
The people had long envied Leah for monopolizing the Goddess's favor, and they were terrified that her betrayal would cause the Goddess to withdraw her blessings from all of humanity.
Thus, to secure the Goddess’s continued favor, they offered the rebellious Leah as a sacrifice. She was beheaded.
The Sun Goddess grieved deeply and gathered the corpse herself. However, because Leah was not without sin, she sentenced her soul to be imprisoned in her own shadow.
Furthermore, the Goddess withdrew all blessings from those Leah had created and those who followed her. She punished them so that if they ever touched a blessing, their skin would melt away in agonizing pain.
"Does 'blessing' refer to holy water?"
"Yes. They are the ones now called demons."
The Festival of Sacrifice was a ritual commemorating that event.
The one who had beheaded Leah was none other than the founder of the Empire. For that reason, the Festival of Sacrifice had been passed down since the Empire's founding, making it a monumental event for both the Empire and the Temple. And now, with the Temple's power at its peak under Bishop Marik, it was sure to be an incredibly important affair.
It was such a massive event that it was strange I was only hearing about it now. But then, it made sense. Count Rohanson had never mentioned it to me. And since it was an event for high society, the bedridden and sickly Canna wouldn't have known the details either.
It wasn't an annual festival, but an irregular ritual held whenever the Empire suffered an unusual number of disasters.
In modern times, it was used with ulterior motives—as an implicit announcement to solidify the rise of a new ruler. It had become an established tradition that whoever played the role of the executioner would soon ascend the imperial throne.
"The one who played the executioner last time is the current Emperor."
"Then Princess Tenebrae will play the executioner this time."
"Yes. Most likely."
By taking on the role of the Empire's founder, she would gain the symbolic status of one ascending to the highest position.
"If the executioner's role goes to the next Emperor, who plays the offering?"
The impact of this event was too great for it to be a mere play, so the role of the offering couldn't be given to just anyone. The most likely candidates were either me, whom Bishop Marik found so irritating, or Gabriel.
"The criteria for selecting the offering are unclear, but this time, the role will almost certainly go to you, my lady."
Gabriel speculated that I would be chosen. Don't tell me Bishop Marik had already earmarked me for this role back at the Crown Prince's birthday banquet?
Was this why she had been keeping such a close eye on me? And despite calling it a play, she probably intended to say, 'Oh my, my hand slipped!' and actually chop my head off.
"She likely intended to use me as bait to make you agree, my lady."
His deep blue eyes swam with guilt. Suddenly, his expression seemed incredibly vivid. He looked utterly pitiful.
"Because you… ch-cherish… cherish me, my lady… Of course, she would use Mr. Jelly as bait as well."
Gabriel blushed and stammered, as if he found it embarrassing to admit that I cared for him. Was he doing this on purpose?
"So you finally recognize that I cherish you, Sir Gabriel."
"Of course, not just me, but also Mr. Pudding, Miss Canna, and Madame Toten…"
When I teased him, Gabriel began to ramble, listing the names of people I obviously cherished.
Yes, Pudding was my pet, so of course I cherished him. I had taken Canna in as well. I listened to his list, but when Madame Toten's name came up, I pressed a hand to my forehead.
"Stop."
If I didn't stop him, he looked like he would recite the names of every person in my employ.
Gabriel snapped his mouth shut, his face flushing an even deeper shade of red. It was amazing how he could get even redder. His eyes grew so moist I could have sworn tears were welling in them.
He was undoubtedly aware of the effect his looks had. If I were some clueless heroine, I would have seen his red face and asked if he was sick.
Well, Gabriel was a patient, so technically he was sick. For some reason, my stomach fluttered. Unlike before, when it had been purely unpleasant, I now felt a shared embarrassment, to the point where my own face was about to turn red. I quickly changed the subject.
"Ten days is a tight schedule."
"Yes. I understand it's been rushed. When I was still at the Temple, they had only selected a rough date. No official notice had been issued yet."
If that was when Gabriel was still at the Temple, it was before the Rohanson mansion burned down. By now, an invitation must have arrived.
"I'll go ask my grandfather if a letter has come. You should rest a bit more, Sir Gabriel."
Gabriel nodded quietly. I helped him lie back down and tucked the covers around him. He blushed in embarrassment again, and feeling like I couldn't take any more, I gently placed my hand over his eyes.
"My lady…?" he called out, bewildered by the sudden darkness.
Perhaps he blinked in confusion, because his long eyelashes fluttered against my palm. Did he think he was a butterfly? Why were they fluttering so much?
It felt like pollen drifting from delicate wings, or the light touch of an artist's brush. It was suddenly unbearable, and I bit my lip.
As I gently stroked his eyes, as if lulling a child to sleep, Gabriel obediently closed them.
Before long, his aching body gave in, and he drifted off to sleep. His breathing became steady and even.
I left Gabriel in the care of the doctors waiting outside and went to find the Duke. There was no need to trouble a sick man; I would do what needed to be done while he slept.
Even as I walked toward the Duke's office, that strange emotion from earlier kept resurfacing. It was a strange, ticklish feeling, like an insect crawling under my skin, and I clenched my fists.
It kept bothering me. What on earth was this feeling?
But as I neared the office, I pushed the thought aside. I didn't know the answer. And when you don't know the answer to a problem, you don't obsess over it; you solve the other problems first. I had to deal with the matter at hand.
* * *
"Grandfather, it's Evangeline."
"Come in."
Today, too, the Duke was besieged by a mountain of paperwork. Documents were piled high on his desk.
The stack was unusually large. Had it somehow grown even taller? His face was gaunt, as if he hadn't slept in days.
The Duke glanced toward the sofa—a silent command for me to sit, as he didn't feel like talking. They say a dog at a village school can recite poetry after three years; here I was, already reading his cues. Of course, I hadn't been here for three years, but I was a fast learner, so we'll let that slide.
Sitting on the plush seat, I got straight to the point.
"Grandfather, are you aware that the Festival of Sacrifice will be held soon?"
"...The Festival of Sacrifice?"
The Duke's hand, which had been moving in a single fluid stroke, stopped. He looked at me as if a headache was already setting in.
"Sir Gabriel has woken up."
"...That is good news."
"He was the one who told me about the festival. He said it's in ten days. Have you heard anything?"
"If it's in ten days, an invitation surely would have arrived."
Judging by his scowl, he seemed completely unaware.
"Rico, the letters…"
The Duke habitually called for his butler, then froze. I finally understood why he was buried under a mountain of paperwork, working himself to death.
It was because Rico, his highly competent butler, was gone. The Duke hadn't filled his empty position.
Rico must have been the one to screen all the important letters and deliver them to the Duke. With no one to handle such tasks, it was no wonder the Duke's information was delayed.
The Duke rummaged through a pile of letters himself and pulled one out.
"Here it is…"
He roughly tore open the envelope and scanned its contents. His brow furrowed deeply as he read. Then, in a fit of rage at whatever was written inside, he ripped the letter to shreds. Not stopping there, he threw the torn pieces into the fireplace.
Hey, I wanted to see that… Did Bishop Marik threaten him using Agera?
I was curious, but it didn't seem like he was going to explain. After fuming for a long moment, his anger still simmering, the Duke finally spoke.
"The invitation was sent only to me. Seeing as they sent it here despite knowing you are staying at the estate, your letter must have gone to that damn Rohanson bastard."
"To the Count?"
Oops. Out of habit, I had called him "the Count" instead of "Father." Fortunately, the Duke, who loathed the man, didn't point out my slip of the tongue. In fact, he seemed pleased by it.
"Yes. Publicly, you're still a damned Rohanson, aren't you? But you're my daughter's child! They could have just sent it to the Duke's estate!" he grumbled, cursing the sender.
My daughter's child. I guess the word "granddaughter" really didn't roll off his tongue.
Still, it was a bit funny that the Duke, who used to lump me in with the "damned Rohansons," now saw me as a pseudo-Hosaquin.
"Do you plan to participate? I know where that Rohanson bastard is staying. I'll send someone to retrieve the letter."
How did he know Count Rohanson's whereabouts? Was he having him watched? He probably wouldn't tell me even if I asked. If he'd intended to, he would have told me long ago.
But if he knew the Count's location and would even get the letter for me, I was more than grateful. I nodded.
"Since I've likely been chosen as the offering, I have no choice but to go."
The Duke groaned at the word "offering," rubbing his temples.
Come to think of it, the last Festival of Sacrifice was held right before the current Emperor ascended the throne. Gabriel didn't know who played the offering back then, but surely the Duke would.
"Grandfather, do you know who played the offering in the last ritual?"
"...Yes. I do."
The Duke sighed, hesitating. I wished he would just spit it out instead of pausing for dramatic effect. Finally, he revealed the person's identity.
"The previous offering was His Majesty's younger sister."
"What?"
For a moment, I thought I had misheard.
"His Majesty the Emperor is a truly ruthless man. The amount of blood he spilled to claim the throne is staggering. Princess Orpheo, who was the offering, survived. In the end, you could say she was lucky."
"Even though she was the offering?"
"That's precisely why she was lucky. His Majesty cherished Princess Orpheo. The one who plays the role of the offering can never touch power. He had to ensure she would never be a threat to the throne, but since he didn't want to kill her, he chose that path."
This was the same heartless Emperor who had tried to kill his own son, Gabriel, simply because holy water had no effect on him. If this was his twisted way of showing he cherished his sister, I had no choice but to believe it.
After leaving the Imperial Castle to spend the rest of her days in the quiet countryside, Princess Orpheo's current whereabouts—and whether she was even still alive—were unknown.
"Yes, now that I think of it, Lord Oratorio resembles Princess Orpheo. Perhaps that is why His Majesty favored him so particularly."
The Duke added that if it hadn't been for Bishop Marik, Oratorio would have undoubtedly become the next emperor. He seemed lost in his memories, but at that moment, an ominous thought struck me.
"If a member of the imperial family can be the offering… then Sir Gabriel could be chosen as well."