The Saintess Can't Stand the Grand Duchess - 5

A thought I often have, that: I loved the dawn. I loved the faint light that bloomed dim gray before the sun rose, and I loved this tranquil hush, where everyone lay asleep and the only sound was insects humming in the grass. Perhaps that was why my eyes always opened at this hour. I smiled faintly at the pale light that greeted me the moment they did.

My body felt lighter than usual today—likely because the worry I had carried ever since learning Adele was coming had been fully put to rest. The approach she had chosen was not understanding or forgiveness; it was simply to focus on the present. It was the past, after all. No matter how much attention I gave to old affairs, nothing about the here and now would change. When the person I had worried about most held firm to that attitude, my heart grew easier. I suspected the lightness ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in my body owed something to it as well.

By all rights, we should have left the temple yesterday and set out for the South, but Adele's arrival had pushed the schedule back. Leaving this place, then, was today's business. As for what we stood to gain from the itinerary into the southern depths... not much, truthfully. For some time to come, looking after Adrian and Adele would be quite enough.

The affection Adrian held toward me was, by extension, the affection of her priests, and the paladins—led by Berod—already thought well of me. Even if something strange occurred, they would not blindly condemn me. At the very least, they knew for certain now what kind of man ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I was.

"...Yuria."

Once the southern journey was over, it would be time to walk the road of ruin in earnest. Killing Theresia had never been part of the plan, but I already knew exactly who was unnecessary in my life. I was still in contact with Renald. I did not know what methods he employed, but he was carrying out the role I had assigned him admirably. In many ways, leaving him where he was had proven a fine choice.

I had expected as much, but her behavior seemed to be tipping into something faintly degenerate. Not that any of it would have been possible had she not carried the name Taylor. Well—I could not say whether this would benefit Yuria in the long run. If there were no rival, people would have no choice but to follow her; but if an equal competitor appeared, where would they turn? She was hardly fool enough not to know that.

She simply did not believe I could climb to an equal footing, most likely. Or else she meant to seize the position of Family Head while I was away in the South. I had mapped out most of the shapes Yuria's actions would take. Unless she abruptly lost her mind and killed herself, the radius of her movements lay in my hands.

Which meant all I had to do... was simply wait here, unhurried. Yuria would walk into my trap in the end. And a trap, once it bit down, had no intention of letting go. Before long, the moment would come when I could see the results with my own eyes.

I held Renald's letter to the candle flame for a moment, then turned my gaze back to the window. It had been dawn when I rose, yet somewhere along the way the sun was climbing into view. Morning, then—who should I go see first? I had looked in on Adele yesterday, so today it seemed I ought to call on Adrian.

"You must have slept in late yesterday?"

Before Adele arrived, I had often spent my mornings with Adrian. Her priests looked after me well enough, but the only person in this place worth seeking out was Adrian, after all. Yesterday? I had been with Adele until well into the afternoon. I could have been honest with Adrian about it, but somehow a strong premonition rose in me that I should not be.

"I suppose I was a little tired."

"There's nothing wrong with resting now and then. You're usually the diligent one, Robert."

A thread of guilt did twinge in me, but there was nothing for it. The relationship between Adrian and Adele was... how should I put it? With me situated between them, they kept precisely that much distance and not a step more. Without me, they had no particular reason to grow close, and any attempt to do so only turned needlessly awkward with me standing right there. It was a touch stifling, but I intended to manage it somehow. It was not as though I could choose one and cast the other aside. If we were lovers it might be another matter, but between friends, I considered it acceptable—though calling what Adele and I had "friendship" might invite a few laughs.

When the priests who had been helping Adrian with her attire withdrew, she rose from her seat and, with practiced ease, took my arm. Not the way she had last time, half embracing it—perhaps because Adele was here now. I simply walked on with Adrian holding my arm lightly.

"Today's the day we leave this place, isn't it? How far did you say we'd be traveling by carriage again?"

"Even though it's the depths, we'll likely have to stop and start several times along the way. It's the land of the non-human races, you see."

Near the Temple of the Moon we had passed without much trouble, but the closer we drew to the depths, the more contact with the non-humans became unavoidable. The outskirts were fine—elves lived there mostly, and they were well disposed toward humans so long as nature went unharmed. No doubt we would halt a few times to seek their leave. Adrian seemed to harbor a quiet anticipation about pressing deeper into the South. It might prove a little dangerous, and there would be sorcerers besides, but so long as Adele or I were at her side, it would hardly be easy for her to come to harm. Berod would be there too, for that matter. If she were ever truly endangered, it would likely take something like last time—the Crown Prince making a deliberate attempt on her.

I had no intention of loosening my vigilance. The Crown Prince had reached into Mirajane's fate as well; to think he would leave Adrian alone was far too complacent.

The long walk brought us to where Berod and the paladins had assembled. Berod, in the middle of inspecting his weapon, contorted his features into something grotesque at the sight of Adrian and me.

"...So you've arrived."

"You don't look terribly pleased about it."

"Wouldn't that be only natural? Considering the sight before my eyes."

I wanted to tell him that doting on Adrian so excessively was not good for anyone. Were it not for that enormous hammer hanging in his grip, I might have said so a time or two already. Adrian, for her part, seemed to find Berod's antics endlessly amusing. She chuckled for a moment, then knit her brow slightly and addressed him.

"Still, please don't be too hard on Robert. He's only here because I asked him to be."

"...I'm aware, but I have a duty to protect you, Saintess. Vigilance is required at all times."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"That makes it sound as though Robert is a dangerous man. Is he?"

"That is not it."

At her reproachful tone, Berod's shoulders slumped in sullen defeat. He was hopelessly weak where Adrian was concerned, and whenever she took my side like this, I could not help feeling an odd pang of sympathy. For Berod, that is. His eyes, considerably gentler than before, poured out a long sigh in my direction. Then he pointed off in one direction and informed us that the carriage had arrived.

"The carriage is ready. I ordered one that sways rather less than the last, so the journey into the depths should give us no great trouble."

"Thank you for looking after us."

"This time the Grand Duchess rides with us as well, not only the Saintess. I entrust both ladies to your care. The paladins will devote themselves to watching our surroundings."

Adrian reacted to the mention of the Grand Duchess joining us, but knowing already that Adele would be riding in the same carriage, I did not react much. It had been the topic of conversation only yesterday, after all—who I would travel with on the road south. Adele had asked why she could not simply ride alongside on her wolf, but the southern marshlands were miserable terrain for wolf-back travel. That carriage might have looked perfectly ordinary, but it was in fact finished with subtle magitech work. And so Adele would ride inside with us.

Adrian, evidently none too pleased by the arrangement, began to grumble under her breath.

"Weren't we supposed to be traveling together? Things have turned out rather differently from the plan."

"I ask for your understanding. With the Grand Duchess joining us, we could hardly ride separately."

"...It isn't that I dislike the Grand Duchess. It's only... still awkward."

There was nothing to be done about a difference in temperament. All I could do was hope the two of them would come to understand each other, bit by bit. Were Mirajane and Adrian so very alike in personality? And yet they had become the closest of friends. Perhaps, in time, Adele and Adrian would manage the same.

As we drew near the carriage, Adele was already seated inside. The moment the door opened, she patted the seat beside her and called my name.

"Robert, over here. The three of us can't all fit facing one another."

"Now, hold on. Just where do you think you're calling Robert?"

"To the seat beside me. If you were going to ride facing each other anyway, I hardly see the difference."

Adrian, clinging fast to my arm once more, shook her head in firm refusal. When Adele turned a steady gaze on me in response to that, guilt pricked at me for no good reason, and I answered.

"Last time I sat with her. The seats were too wide for sitting across from one another."

"...Aha."

The smile on Adele's face turned strange, and her eyes went cold. It lasted only an instant, but it was the expression she tended to wear upon seeing or hearing something she did not like. And when her gaze fell on Adrian clinging tightly to my arm, that smile only deepened. Presently Adele stepped down from the carriage, came toward Adrian, and took hold of her arm.

"I believe it would be better if the Saintess and I sat together. That way things are fair, don't you agree?"

I did not ask what, exactly, was fair about it. The words two women exchanged over a man carried a rather flagrant purpose, after all. If one cannot claim a thing, better that no one does—it was something Adele used to say often in the old days, so I understood at once what she meant.

"What? No—why on earth would we need to do that? Robert and I have always ridden together just fine."

"We need to. Very much."

With that, Adele pried Adrian's fingers from my arm and added:

"Because I can't stand the sight of it."

"Wha—wait a moment—Grand Duchess!"

What followed unfolded with remarkable speed. Before Adrian could muster any resistance, Adele had peeled her off of me, lifted her bodily, and settled her into the carriage. Taking the seat beside her, Adele gestured at the now-empty bench across from them with a bright smile. When I moved to say something, she raised a single finger to her lips. It seemed there was nothing I needed to say. I let out a short laugh and climbed in, whereupon Adrian fixed Adele with a long, silent stare, her face crowded with things unsaid.

It was an expression I had never seen on her before. Dazed—and her trembling hands had seized her own collar in a white-knuckled grip. I worried this might drive a real wedge between them, but I trusted Adele would smooth it over. She would no doubt cook up some convenient excuse about how it simply could not be helped. Still, the longer I watched, the more uneasy I inexplicably became. I met Adele's eyes for a heartbeat, then slowly turned my head away.

"Are we setting off?"

"...Yes. I believe so."

It was nothing more than deciding who sat where in a carriage, yet I could feel it—Adele's emotions were steadily growing to resemble those of the past. Tender yearning. A past in which we had loved each other, however briefly, and in the end never said so. I knew by now how unwise it was to remain bound to the past. But it was equally true that the closer her feelings drew to what had been, the more precarious my position became.

I did not want to weave deep bonds with anyone. If someone tried to cross the line and come closer still, I would have no choice but to refuse them. This was different from before. I was no longer the man who ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had tried to live happily, together with everyone. Mine was a life now running toward eternal rest, was it not?

All people march toward death, yet now and then they forget the fact. I had not forgotten death. Because the place I was walking toward was death itself, I wanted no deep ties with anyone. If I failed again this time, I doubted I could endure it.

Until the Crown Prince lay dead, I wished to keep my relationships with everyone at precisely this distance. Once every purpose had been accomplished, then—only then—could I speak of love without a single worry.

The carriage began to roll forward—out of the South's outskirts, and into the depths where the non-human races dwelled. I swept away the tangled thoughts blooming in my head and resolved to focus, for now, on a different objective.

The relics.

After all, it was there, in the depths, that I had to secure them.