The Other Eina Candidate
I wonder if it would be all right to discuss that matter with His Highness the Crown Prince.
“Cassel, it has been quite some time since you last visited Grace Monastery, has it not?”
“Yes, Father.”
The Duke of Klein was one of only two dukes in the entire empire. The House of Orleans was a family of meritorious retainers, while the House of Klein, though its history was somewhat shorter, possessed its own authority and immense wealth. The Duke was also a man who knew how to share his mountain of riches.
“Hoho, Abbess Beryl has aged a little, but she is the same as ever.”
“Is that so?”
“It feels like only yesterday when she stood before me without trembling and thanked me so clearly and politely. She is like an unchanging evergreen tree!”
“……”
Cassel had only met Abbess Beryl twice, yet he held her in high regard. Still, after she had sent Dorothea as an Eina candidate, he had grown deeply reluctant toward her in his heart. He had no desire to spoil his father’s mood by voicing any negativity during their journey.
“When I stopped by the monastery to fetch Dorothea, I made a promise. I told them I would purchase all their wine come autumn, so they should prepare it.”
“I see.”
“The abbess is not one for flattery, hoho. Others might have bought cheap wine from elsewhere to deceive me, but she will not. Care to make a wager?”
Cassel had no interest in such trivial bets, but he offered a faint smile to humor his father.
“Understood. If even one bottle proves inferior, what would you have me do?”
“Have a proper sparring match with young Morris. Knock some sense into the boy. If you win… hmm, what shall I give you?”
Sparring with his younger brother was something Cassel would do even without a wager. However, the gap between Cassel’s and Morris’s skills was so vast it was almost embarrassing. That was precisely why Cassel had never used a real sword against him. What the Duke truly meant was not merely a spar, but a lesson to ensure Morris would one day be properly knighted.
Cassel spoke without much thought. “I will save it for later. These days, I am content with each passing day.”
“Your mother and I feel the same. It is a comfort to have you near.”
It was no empty remark. Cassel understood the implication yet showed no sign of it.
“…Yes.”
The Grace Monastery they arrived at was steeped in an eerie silence. In his childhood memories it had seemed grand, yet now it felt far too quiet. Still uneasy about the place, Cassel accompanied the Duke to meet Abbess Beryl and Abbot Hessen.
“Oh, welcome.”
“I trust you have been well. As promised, I have come to purchase the wine. Load it all onto the carriage; I will pay the full amount at once.”
“Thank you.”
Abbot Hessen remained unchanged, but Abbess Beryl, aside from appearing slightly older, wore an inexplicable look of worry on her face. To put it precisely, she seemed strangely vacant, as though her mind were elsewhere.
Why does she look like that? Is she unwell?
Cassel entertained the negative thought but kept it from showing. While the Duke stepped aside to speak with Abbot Hessen, Cassel approached her. Abbess Beryl forced a gentle expression onto her pale face and greeted him.
“I hear the young duke has grown splendidly and even served on the perilous Logia border. You have also become vice-captain of the Blue Rose Knights.”
“That is correct.”
“How remarkable. I shall continue to pray that endless glory may shine upon the House of Klein.”
Her words were as smooth as any social pleasantry, and Cassel once again felt a sense of dissonance. Even if she had not questioned them first about Dorothea’s shortcomings, why had the abbess not once asked after the well-being of the Eina candidate she herself had chosen?
Why did she speak as though that girl had never existed here, and instead inquire first about Cassel, who had left four years ago?
Unable to hold back, he asked, “You selected a girl named Dorothea as an Eina candidate and sent her to us.”
“…Oh, young duke. In truth, I had intended to send a child named Morgana. I do not know her exact age, but she was nearing adulthood and had always been quiet and diligent. However, His Grace chose Dorothea… instead.”
Cassel frowned. “You mean the Eina candidate you had selected was someone else?”
“The final choice rests with His Grace’s discretion, so we could hardly object. That was the situation at the time. I trust Dorothea is doing well?”
Unwilling to speak of her, Cassel instead asked about the other girl. “Where is the other Eina candidate now? If you personally chose her, she must be exceptionally talented. I am curious.”
“After returning, she found her own path and left the monastery. As I mentioned, she was nearing adulthood. This old woman could not stand in the way of a child whose future was so bright.”
Abbess Beryl had no choice but to keep her account of Morgana brief. She feared that revealing the girl had gone to the Magic Tower might earn her a disapproving glance. Unless they were born into a family with magical aptitude, the nobles of the capital tended to both favor and quietly fear mages. Since the House of Klein had almost no history of producing mages, Abbess Beryl’s assumption was not entirely unfounded. Moreover, bringing up the subject so suddenly left her throat tight.
The Duke of Klein had kept his word and purchased the wine when the season changed. She wondered if there would ever be an opportunity to send the velvet muffler and gloves to Morgana, who had gone to the Magic Tower. The tower rarely permitted visits from those who could not use magic. It would be especially difficult for a visitor from a pious monastery attached to the Temple of the Main God. Above all, she was uncertain whether Morgana would even welcome her concern.
The poor child who had left the moment she resolved to treat her better. If the girl learned of her cowardly silence, would she resent her even later?
Morgana…
If she simply sent the gift, the girl would probably accept it reluctantly. My poor, dear child.
“I see.”
Since Cassel could not press further about where she had gone, he ended the conversation. As he left, a vague thought crossed his mind.
Morgana. I have never heard the name before… yet it sounds strangely sorrowful.
If one were to paint the name, it would resemble a slender woman sitting in a small boat on a misty lakeshore, gently stirring the water with her hand. If one called out to her from the shore, she would vanish into the fog in an instant. A rare name that belonged only in faint legends.
Wherever she had gone, he hoped she was happy.
With his heart considerably lighter, Cassel saw that the Duke was still deep in conversation with Hessen and turned away. Since His Grace had taken a rare outing away from politics, it seemed best to give him more time. He knew that the Duke found comfort in bestowing kindness upon this pastoral monastery.
As he wandered aimlessly, he eventually spotted people.
Hmm.
Beyond the wine barrels and bottles being carefully moved from the underground cellar, nuns and orphans were working. He hesitated to approach, not wanting to interrupt, but his sharp ears caught fragments of their whispered conversation.
“All of this is going to the Klein ducal residence?”
“Yeah.”
“Dot didn’t come?”
Dot?
It was an unfamiliar name, yet Cassel quickly realized whose it must be.
“Seems not. Ha… I’m so jealous of Dot. I’m confident I could do well as an Eina for the Klein family too.”
“Same. If I had known he was the Duke, I would have hovered around like Dotricia and tried to talk to him. I stayed back because she was bothering the guests too much, but now I regret it.”
“Right? I should have at least greeted him.”
“How on earth did Dot figure out that information?”
“My aunt lives in the capital. She said Dotricia rode in the ducal carriage together! She’s been going to noble salons under the name Dorothea, apparently.”
“I’m so jealous…”
He had heard enough.
Dotricia?
So that was Dorothea’s original name.
Dorothea was a common enough name for a woman, but Dotricia… he had never heard it before. At least not in the capital or the Logia territory.
It does not sound like a name given by the monastery. It is strangely rare. I should look into it further. Morgana’s name as well… is not ordinary either. Both warrant investigation.
Narrowing his eyes, Cassel said nothing to the Duke about what he had seen and heard. That day, he fulfilled his duties as a son to the very end. Just as the Duke had said, the monastery’s wine was flawless, without a single inferior bottle. It was a satisfying defeat for him.
It was fortunate that the misunderstanding with Abbess Beryl had been cleared as well.
Everything seemed proper.
Except for one thing: the girl harboring improper ambitions toward the ducal residence.
She is at the Selphia House, I believe?
Cassel’s steps turned toward that secluded place. As if lessons were in session, he could hear Dorothea and Scholar Pochette exchanging questions and answers through the window.
“Thus, commerce could not develop rapidly in the early days of the Akan Empire…”
“Cause!”
“…Well… that is… the roads were slow to be maintained…”
“Restoring the roads and sewers leading to the capital was not difficult! Goodness, you will have to review the book again.”
Even from a rough listen, the lesson content was so uninspiring that it could be ignored with one ear and forgotten with the other.
Hm?
A faint, suspicious presence—no, a feeling.
Cassel quietly turned his gaze toward the source that had disturbed his senses.
Is that not an Undine?
Near the small pond in the Selphia House garden, a single Undine floated on the water, struggling to peer inside through the window.
It was rare for spirits to appear naturally. Moreover, this was the Klein ducal residence. He could not allow a suspicious entity to remain. Just as he moved to draw his sword, the Undine’s small body sagged and sank heavily onto a lotus leaf floating on the water.
It seemed the spirit lacked the strength to stay here any longer. At that moment, the voices inside the Selphia House also fell silent. Scholar Pochette had likely instructed Dorothea to read from the book again.
“……”
Cassel deliberately avoided meeting the Undine’s eyes. Was it simply weak? Or had someone deliberately sent it here to watch Dorothea?
If its purpose was only the former, he ought to drive it away. But if it was the latter…
…Well.
Since it was only a lesser spirit, it would not be able to enter the main building anyway. Cassel was not the sort to feel pity for an Undine that could only linger by the pond, unable to approach the window closely.
I suppose I will leave it be for now.
Without even a moment to understand why he had indulged such a whim, he turned away. He could only hope that whoever had sent the Undine to stay near Dorothea would one day prove useful.