The Pretext of Goodwill
Only after a long silence did Priestess Lumiel slowly ask in return.
"…Forgive me, but what did you just say?"
"I said I would move the Imperial Knight Orders for you. The Temple's strength alone will hardly suffice to bring the priest back."
"But, Your Highness…"
"Of course, it wouldn't be an official deployment. If it caught the High Priest's eye, we'd only end up bothering each other. Moving quietly, behind the scenes, however, is entirely possible."
Cantares added with a mischievous glint.
"In return, I would ask you, Priestess, to find some common ground with the High Priest—leaning, as much as possible, in the direction of aiding the Crown."
To mobilize the Imperial Knight Orders for the sake of a single priest—it was a staggering proposal.
Lumiel stared blankly at the Crown Prince, doubting her own ears. But Cantares appeared entirely serious.
After letting a long pause hang in the air, she finally managed to speak.
"Why go so far…?"
"Because I want the Temple's cooperation that badly. If moving the knights wins me your hearts, it's a cheap price to pay."
Cantares answered matter-of-factly, and at that, Lumiel fell silent once more—before abruptly bursting into laughter.
"If the High Priest learns of this, he'll be furious. All this momentous negotiation over one lowly priest… I'm certain Priest Declan himself wouldn't even be glad of it."
"I share that sentiment. Though one insufferable young man seemed to think rather differently."
The corner of Cantares's mouth curled into a smirk.
"He said that finding a missing person and bringing the hammer down on the vermin who profit by filthy means is simply what ought to be done."
"Those were Sir Arendt's words?"
"Yes. Though I assure you, the sentiment is nowhere near as humane as it sounds."
Cantares grumbled, resting his chin on his hand.
"He insisted that at least on the surface, this has to look like an exchange of goodwill rather than a transaction—and then went to the trouble of writing me a lengthy letter to that effect, along with detailed information about Priest Declan."
He set the documents in his hand down on the table with a light thump.
"Taking what we're owed, giving what we owe, and then dressing the whole proposal up as 'goodwill'—that, apparently, is also part of the deal."
This was the 'presentation' Arendt had called so important. A relationship in which both sides graciously clasped hands and cooperated.
Even if the fit was forced.
Understanding what he meant, Lumiel gave a wry smile.
"In other words, you will extend your goodwill first, and expect me to repay it in full, as decency demands."
Could something this coercive really be called goodwill?
But it was also true that there was no other way to describe it.
"To have my own failings pointed out in such a manner—I hardly know where to hold my head."
"He probably didn't think it through that deeply. He's always lived exactly as he pleases, that one."
Cantares replied so, but Lumiel only smiled quietly.
"I will do my best to persuade the High Priest. After the Crown has shown such favor, I could hardly do otherwise."
"Of course, if that priest has laid hands on any crimes, he must pay the price."
"Naturally, Your Highness. I am fully prepared for that. Only…"
After a brief hesitation, the priestess continued slowly.
"Declan was a child who drifted to the temple with no family, no kin, no one at all. There were times he despaired of his lot in life, but he always strove to live as well as he could."
"…"
"The temple—we are his family and his guardians. The High Priest occupies a position that forces him to judge with reason alone, but I am only a small-minded person."
Lumiel's calm voice filled the quiet study.
"Having become his family, my duty is to confirm whether he lives or dies to the very end, and if possible, to pull him out of that dangerous place. Even if it is a foolish thing to do, I cannot bring myself to abandon him."
"Well, I certainly expect the High Priest and His Majesty the Emperor will not agree."
Having said that much, Cantares met Lumiel's eyes and flashed a playful grin.
"At least I don't think it's foolish at all."
At the Crown Prince's answer, a faint smile bloomed on the priestess's lips.
* * *
The talks had gone smoothly enough, but that didn't make the work easy. For those who would have to run the operation on the ground, this was only the true beginning.
The mission was a demanding one.
Deliver results impressive enough for the Temple to tout openly, while ensuring that no one learned the Crown had been involved.
Still, with the objective fixed as rescuing people from the criminals' hands, Laios was more grave than anyone had ever seen him.
"Our priority must be securing the priest and the other victims."
Declan was far from the only confirmed missing person.
Their captors were unlikely to be dragging all of them off to their deaths, so the plan was to stake everything on the odds that they were still alive somewhere.
Richt nodded.
"First we'll need to trace where the abducted were taken… but since we know nothing of the situation inside, we'll have to move carefully."
"They may have bribed parts of the local Security Department, too."
"Then relying on the Security Department's support is out of the question."
When Arthur chimed in from beside him, Laios nodded again.
With the capital unable to be left entirely empty, securing the cooperation of the 1st and 2nd Knight Orders was, in practice, impossible as well.
"So our own order is all we have to draw on."
In terms of raw strength, that was more than enough.
The 3rd Knight Order admitted its members on skill alone, regardless of birth, which meant it counted quite a few fighters who outclassed their counterparts in the other two orders—Arthur himself being a case in point.
As the saying went, it was 'the place where they gathered the best swordsmen in the country.'
"The problem is staying out of sight."
He didn't imagine they could fool the High Priest completely. But at least enough discretion to make a passable show of it was required.
Even if they were called to account later, they needed to be able to claim, with a straight face, that no such thing had ever happened.
So long as they managed that much, the Crown Prince would handle the rest.
Arthur's brow creased faintly.
"Honestly, I still have my doubts that's even possible."
"It's hardly that difficult. If it's your word, Commander, our seniors would sooner play dead for real—straw on their backs, hurling themselves into a fire—than disappoint you."
At that moment, a brusque voice cut abruptly into the conversation.
Three pairs of eyes swung to Arendt in an instant.
"We've got a decent number of people in our order, so obviously we can't all move at once. Better to pick a few and send them ahead. It's not like whoever it is—mercenaries or otherwise—is going to give anyone much trouble."
"That's true, but—"
"Nail down the pretext, and the whole 3rd Knight Order could march in broad daylight for all anyone cares. Nobody knows the ins and outs of this affair anyway."
Cutting Arthur off mid-sentence, Arendt cast a sidelong glance at Laios.
Meeting his gaze, Laios asked.
"And what pretext would that be?"
"Nothing grand. We sneak in, pinpoint the priest and the other missing, stir up a suitable ruckus, and slip out. Taking a hit or two along the way, of course."
"Taking a hit?"
This time it was Richt who asked, bewildered.
"Then the aftermath takes care of itself. *How dare they lay a hand on our boys*—and the whole order comes down on them like a landslide…"
"Hey—hey, hey! That's extortion! That's the kind of thing common thugs-for-hire do!"
"Mercenaries, knight orders—it's all the same: a pack of good fighters gathered in one place. What's so noble about it?"
"How are they the same, you little—!"
With Arthur lunging at him in full fury on one side and Arendt plugging his ears with practiced ease and responding halfheartedly on the other, Richt and Laios quietly pressed their hands to their foreheads.
But Arendt stood his ground.
"Whatever you say, it's an effective move. Honestly, it's not so different from that precious duty and honor you all treat as sacred."
"How did someone like this ever become a knight?"
Arthur lamented, speaking for the other two as well.
The reason he protested so hard was simple: the argument had actually convinced him.
Leaving the three men reeling where they stood, Arendt folded his arms with a snap and pressed on.
"Say you're out on an excursion for some unrelated errand—and right nearby, a massive brawl breaks out between rival mobs of thugs. Naturally, the knight order would have to intervene. You just happen to be close by."
"…"
"And what do you know—as you rescue the victims, it turns out the priest who went missing earlier was caught up in the middle of it all. Priestess Lumiel has been worried sick, so what a blessed relief this is."
Tilting his head slightly, the apprentice knight added blandly.
"You said we can't afford to be noticed, but that doesn't mean we have to skulk around. All it takes is a plausible reason and a plausible excuse."
More precisely, what they needed was a clean scenario and a flawless staging of it.
Staring coolly back at the three men glowering at him, Arendt drove in the final nail.
"If you've got a better idea, by all means, share it."
"…"
"…"
"…"
There was nothing left to say.
Having silenced all three, Arendt counted off on his fingers and laid it out.
"First, pick an advance team from within the 3rd Knight Order… and brief the other seniors on the operation, with strict orders to hold position in advance. The advance team goes in, locates the abducted victims, starts a fight on the inside, and runs. Then the main force of the order arrives and cleans up the mess."
The apprentice knight glanced at his commander.
"Well, the choice is yours, Commander. That was only my opinion."
"You talk it all through and then say *that's just your opinion*?"
Laios pressed hard at the bridge of his nose. Richt and Arthur looked equally conflicted, but neither seemed to have the will to argue further.
Judging by their faces, there were no objections to be had.
That evening, every knight of the 3rd Knight Order gathered in the lobby of their quarters.
The stir caused by the sudden summons lasted only moments after Laios appeared with Richt, Arthur, and Arendt in tow—then the room fell instantly silent.
Tense eyes turned toward Laios.
Facing his subordinates, the commander waited until he was certain every gaze was fixed on him, then spoke.
"We have an affair that must be handled off the books."
The ringing voice reverberated through the quarters, and the knights' eyes went wide.
Arendt, listening quietly, muttered in disbelief.
"He actually just says it like that…?"
"He wouldn't know how to beat around the bush. Not everyone can be like you."
Arthur shot back sharply, while Laios began calmly laying out the operation for the knights.
At first the knights listened in earnest, but their faces gradually clouded with disbelief.
Even so, the commander steadfastly delivered his instructions.
When he finally fell silent, the quarters were wrapped in a frigid stillness.
After a long pause, someone hurled out a single question.
"Commander… I have no intention whatsoever of defying your will, but—was that plan devised by Arendt's thick skull? Apologies. By *Arendt's* head?"
"It was."
At the unwavering answer, the knights' expressions grew grimmer still.
It was Laios's will, and none of them would dream of opposing it. And yet the prospect of joining in on a scheme so obviously Arendt's brainchild—so underhanded, so, frankly, *unknightly*—sat in their stomachs like lead.
Looking down at his conflicted men, Laios let out a deep sigh and settled the matter with a single sentence.
"If anyone has a better idea, speak it. I will listen."
After that, not a mouth opened.
Only Richt and Arthur, who had read the full weight of those words—their source, their intent, and the unmistakable message that if you couldn't produce a better plan on the spot, you would shut up—could do nothing but rake their hands down their faces in anguish.