The Violet Gaze That Sees Through Everything
Edwin subtly avoided Lina’s eyes.
He felt a sting of guilt because he had shown up without properly finishing what he was supposed to do.
If only that raccoon of a High Priest hadn’t gone and changed the date of the Grand Prayer Assembly.
Edwin decided he disliked the temple even more now.
From the very beginning of the war, the temple had drawn a firm line, insisting they owed no allegiance to any secular state. The alliance of kingdoms believed in the Minos Church as well, so they had simply planned to side with whoever emerged victorious.
Then the moment it looked like the Empire would win, they started clinging to us.
They offered to dispatch priests to treat the wounded or hold prayer services to pray for victory—opportunistic gestures like that.
Edwin was not generous enough to indulge the temple’s shameless tactics. He had swatted away every helping hand they extended just to make themselves look good.
Not that they were offering anything particularly impressive anyway.
Still, once the war ended, he could not refuse their proposal to hold a prayer assembly for the soldiers and citizens who had fallen.
The majority of the Empire’s population followed the Minos Church, after all. Completely severing ties with the temple would have been difficult.
The moment Edwin accepted their offer, the High Priest had seized the chance to inflate the whole affair.
The temple had already lost the people’s favor by neglecting to heal civilian casualties throughout the war. The Grand Prayer Assembly was meant to bury that unfavorable opinion under a wave of success.
Bringing up the old, long-abandoned procedure of lighting the sacred flame from the former temple was part of that plan.
They’re clearly trying to kill two birds with one stone and dent my authority while they’re at it.
Their intentions were transparent, but since the official purpose was to honor the war dead, Edwin had decided to let it pass just this once.
Walking for three or four hours was hardly a burden to him. The Empire had suffered devastating losses in the early stages of the war, so the number of victims was high. Edwin himself had wanted the Grand Prayer Assembly to be as grand as possible.
If only they hadn’t moved the schedule to the exact day I had cleared to meet Miss Diaz.
In the end, the only one who suffered from the temple’s whim was Everett Rohas.
The real Everett Rohas, that is.
The temple arbitrarily changing the date of the Grand Prayer Assembly had clearly crossed the line of what Edwin was willing to tolerate.
After reading the letter they had sent as though it were a summons, he had intended to cancel his attendance entirely. Kylus, however, had talked him out of it.
With the news that the Emperor would attend the Grand Prayer Assembly already spread among the citizens, reversing course now was impossible. It would play right into the temple’s scheme to make it look as if the Emperor disrespected the gods.
Even if the temple had lost some public trust, the vast majority of imperial citizens were still Minos believers. Distrust of the temple and faith in the Minos God were two separate matters.
Edwin was not particularly devout, but since emperors throughout the ages had positioned themselves as the Minos God’s chosen, he could not ignore the temple completely.
In the end, he had no choice but to accept Kylus’s persuasion. He would attend in the most perfunctory way possible, just enough to keep up appearances.
That did not mean he intended to personally engage in the power struggle the temple was trying to provoke. Thanks to Kylus’s relentless nagging, he had gone through with lighting the sacred flame, but slipped away the first chance he got—after swapping clothes with Everett Rohas.
A fire that lights no matter who strikes it.
The claim that only the legitimate emperor could light the sacred flame was the sort of legend only fanatics believed. Neither Edwin nor Kylus was especially pious, yet Kylus surprisingly clung to that superstition.
Delivering the sacred object from the old temple to the Grand Temple, however, had been left to Everett Rohas, whose face and build were similar enough to Edwin’s that he had often served as his double during the war.
The route was tightly controlled, so no one could approach. The only person who would see Everett’s face was the High Priest receiving the object directly.
It’s a shame I won’t get to see that raccoon’s flustered expression in person.
There was a slight difference from the misunderstanding Lina held, but the fact remained that he had not properly completed his duty. Edwin was the type to casually do things that would make the temple or the nobility faint in horror, yet for some reason, in front of Lina’s violet eyes, he felt an unmistakable pang of conscience.
The temple was the one who inserted an unnecessary step into the proceedings. There would be no real problem if I simply skipped it.
If anyone had started the fight, it was the temple. Edwin defended himself with that thought. He had chosen the most peaceful solution possible without toppling the temple that dared challenge him, so he felt perfectly justified.
Of course, that was not something he could say in front of Lina, who even worried about the lives of the thugs who had threatened his own.
Hoping his words would sound as convincing as possible to her, he spoke.
“I simply finished my business at the imperial palace first and came ahead.”
He had a prior promise to meet Lina, and to Edwin, Lina was far more important than the temple. Since he was telling the truth, his tone remained perfectly casual.
“Did you finish the work you needed to do at the palace?”
At the confirmation that he had not been shirking, the temperature in Lina’s eyes returned to normal. It seemed she had interpreted his “work at the imperial palace” as something other than their appointment.
Rather than correcting her misunderstanding, Edwin simply smiled.
“Yes.”
He gently took her hand and nodded.
“You were lucky. If there hadn’t been palace business, Sir Rohas would have had no choice but to walk all the way to the temple.”
Lina grinned and gave a thumbs-up with her free hand.
“Shall we go, then?”
Unlike Edwin, who still tensed every time their hands met, Lina had grown remarkably comfortable with the gesture. Without any particular awareness, she began strolling while leading him by the hand.
The only sound I can hear right now is my own heartbeat.
Edwin felt just the tiniest bit disappointed by that. Still, he did not let it show.
He did not want to appear clumsy in front of her.
Hand in hand, the two of them walked through the other half of the Summer Rose Garden that had been too dark to see properly last time. A few extra magic-stone lanterns had been hastily added, so the garden was brighter than before.
They did not speak much.
The type of magic stone used in the lanterns had been changed, giving the Summer Rose Garden an even more storybook atmosphere. Lina’s gaze remained glued to the roses, unable to tear away.
Edwin’s mood, which had been slowly sinking, gradually lifted again just from watching her.
Lina tended to grow quiet whenever she focused on something. Thanks to the effects of repeated experience, Edwin—who had been about to speak first—also fell silent.
He liked watching her when she was absorbed in something, so the silence felt peaceful.
Edwin walked half a step behind her so he could take in the sight of her completely.
He had thought about twenty times how adorable her slightly parted lips looked when she was deeply concentrating. That was when her gaze, which had been fixed on the roses for so long, began to drift toward him as well.
Those mysterious violet eyes—impossible to read—kept touching him and then slipping away. Edwin grew confused.
Wasn’t she admiring the flowers? What is she thinking about?
Contrary to his expectations, she did not seem immersed in the rose garden at all. Her expression was too stiff for someone simply enjoying the blooms.
Even though the summer roses were at their peak, neither Edwin nor Lina truly saw the flowers anymore.
The instinct that had saved him and his men countless times on the battlefield was kicking in. What had been a quiet but peaceful atmosphere only moments ago now felt like the heavy calm before a storm.
Every time Lina’s wandering gaze landed on him, his anxiety rose higher.
Did I make some mistake?
Edwin watched her expression, searching his memory for any fault, until he eventually found himself reviewing every single meeting they had ever had.
There were more than one or two suspicious points right from their first encounter. The way her eyes kept returning to him was strange, too.
Lina might look soft, but she had a strong core. She was not the type to agonize over things for long. If something bothered her, she would have said it honestly.
Could it be something difficult to put into words?
If there was anything Lina would hesitate to speak about despite worrying over it… there was really only one possibility.
To be precise, that one possibility was so enormous that nothing else even came to mind.
Is it that?