The Chief Priest's Illustrations

"I-I can't make that promise!"

Damuel shut his eyes tight and said clearly, as if squeezing the words out through sheer pain. He knelt on the spot and crossed both hands in front of his chest.

"I am a knight, so if my superior orders me, I cannot refuse to report. Therefore... please allow me to remain ignorant."

If he didn't know, he couldn't report it. So he wanted to keep not knowing, just as he always had. I nodded at Damuel's anguished decision.

"Then please never leave this workshop. I pray your curiosity won't be the death of you."

"I humbly comply."

I left Damuel and several grey priests behind in the workshop. Lutz and Gil took cutting tools and baskets for the Trombe and headed outside with the grey priests and children. I also went outside with everyone and moved toward the women's building.

"Someone, please fetch Wilma, Deria, and Dierck from the women's building."

"Yes!"

"I'll go!"

Several children ran off in a tangle of limbs into the women's building. Before long, Wilma and Deria emerged carrying Dierck. Deria's expression was slightly stiff.

"It's been a while, Deria. I'm glad to see you looking well."

"Thank you for your concern. Both Dierck and I are doing fine."

Deria's face softened with relief.

"Deria, Dierck is a Self-Eating. It's precisely because he has Magic Power that the Baron, or rather, the Count and the High Priest targeted him. Since the Count is still alive, Dierck's master remains the Count."

Deria's face went pale in an instant.

Baron Gamagael was being kept alive because various additional charges had been dug up on him, and he was needed to negotiate with the territory the Count belonged to. A Lord primarily concerned with political deals was unlikely to agree to breaking a Self-Eating's Contract. As long as the Count lived, Dierck's Contract would not be voided.

"Also, Dierck still hasn't been given a Magical Tool to drain the Magic Power that accumulates in his body. Let's reduce it a little so it doesn't increase too much. Give him that red fruit."

"Yes."

Gil handed the Taue fruit to Deria, who gave it to Dierck. Since the High Priest had drained Dierck's Magic Power to the root in the spring, it hadn't increased much—the seeds had barely started to bulge out before the fruit's growth had nearly stopped.

"That should do it. Dierck can go back now."

"Thank you."

Deria stroked Dierck's head, visibly relieved. With just one change of seasons, Dierck had grown quite a bit. Kamill must have grown too, surely. The nostalgia made me squint fondly.

"Ah, Wilma. I have a favor to ask. I'd like you to draw a portrait of the Chief Priest..."

"I'm terribly sorry, but I cannot do that. I don't know what the Chief Priest looks like."

"Huh?"

Wilma, who had trauma involving blue priests, had avoided even entering his field of vision during the orphanage inspection. Apparently she had never gotten a proper look at the Chief Priest's face.

I hadn't expected Wilma to not know the Chief Priest's face, but when I thought about it, it made sense. Even as that understanding sank in, I went deathly pale.

"I-I'll be inviting the Chief Priest to my room, so at that time..."

"Going to the Nobles' Quarter is still impossible for me. I'm very sorry."

It would be difficult for Wilma to venture into the Nobles' Quarter, which was practically a blue priests' den. However, I didn't think any blue priest would dare lay a hand on the attendant of the High Priest.

"Wilma, would it be impossible even if I arranged an escort so that no one could touch you?"

"...I'm sorry. Lady Rozemyn, could you perhaps leave the sketch to Rosina? I think I could paint based on Rosina's drawing."

I beamed at the lifeline Wilma offered with her apologetic expression. A Shrine Maiden's artistic refinement was something else.

"I'll ask Rosina!"

Chuckling, Wilma took Dierck and Deria and headed back to the orphanage.

"Is everyone ready?"

"Yes!"

I surveyed everyone gripping their blades and bracing for the Trombe. The preparations seemed complete. Lutz nodded, so I picked up the Taue fruit that Dierck's Magic Power had partially ripened, which Gil had been holding.

I could feel my own Magic Power being drawn out, flowing away.

I stared intently at the Taue fruit as the seeds kept multiplying. As the seeds grew more and more numerous, the skin grew harder and harder, and once it was full of seeds, it began to give off heat.

"Here I go!"

I threw it properly at the earth portion. The instant the seeds scattered, I was scooped up by a grey priest and moved to the rear.

Observing everyone's efforts from behind, I could tell they were more practiced than last year, with no wasted movement.

All four Taue fruits that had been picked during the Star Festival and left on the earth in the workshop were converted into Trombe and harvested. The prepared baskets were filled to the brim.

I looked around at the children, their cheeks flushed with satisfaction, and smiled warmly.

"Well then, please use these to make paper. Let's have a warm and comfortable winter this year too."

"Yes!"

I left Gil and Lutz in charge and went to collect Damuel, who was wandering around the workshop like a dog without a fixed spot, then returned to the orphanage director's office.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. Let's go back to the room."

Returning to the High Priest's chamber, I immediately asked Rosina if she could draw the Chief Priest's portrait.

"Wilma hasn't seen him, I suppose? The Chief Priest's portrait is relatively easy. He has a very pleasant face to draw."

Chuckling softly, Rosina sketched the Chief Priest's portrait effortlessly with her pen. It was remarkably good. She drew a frontal view and a profile with simple strokes, yet you could tell at a glance it was the Chief Priest. The word "refinement" didn't begin to cover it.

"I-It's amazing!"

Monica's brown eyes sparkled as she gazed at Rosina's drawing.

"Monica, please deliver this to Wilma. Have Wilma draw the Chief Priest's portrait using this as a reference."

"Yes!"

Monica clutched Rosina's sketch to her chest and left the room. At that same moment, Fran returned from going to check on the Chief Priest's schedule.

"Lady Rozemyn."

"Fran, how's the Chief Priest's schedule looking?"

"He apparently has a sudden visitor."

...He calls someone over while their books are confiscated, and then has a visitor. Well, isn't that just lovely.

After meeting with Lutz and receiving the writing board, the dark feelings that had scattered a bit came whooshing back.

"He said he'd like you to wait while reading the precious books in the Library. What would you like to do?"

"Let's go right now!"

The dark feelings vanished in an instant. I sprang to my feet and turned a bright smile toward Fran.

"Fran, where are the keys to the precious books?"

"Right here."

I headed to the Library with Fran and my guards, my steps practically bouncing. The best thing about having the High Priest's chamber as my own room was that the Library was nearby.

Using the key I'd been permitted to manage myself, I opened the Library and turned to the locked bookshelf containing the precious books.

For the first time, I was face to face with the precious books I'd never even been allowed to see before. What kind of books were kept as precious volumes? Just thinking about it made my heart pound with excitement. Trembling with anticipation and nervousness, I inserted the key.

The bookshelf opened with a soft click.

There, five large, decorated volumes stood in a row.

"Fran, one book will be fine for today. Please carry it to the reading stand."

It would be difficult for me to carry the large books, each about sixty centimeters tall. My eyes sparkling, I had Fran carry one to the reading stand.

"...Lady Rozemyn, these don't appear to be books."

"Huh?"

Lined up in the locked bookshelf, they weren't technically books. They were boxes shaped like books, stuffed full of letters.

I picked up one of the folded letters. It was a parchment letter, different from the Plant Paper we were making.

Rustling it open, I found it was a letter with no sender's name.

"Could this be... a love letter!? Fran, is it alright for me to read this?"

"As Lady Rozemyn is the High Priest, I believe you should read it first and then report to the Chief Priest."

The fact that these were hidden here meant the sender might have been the High Priest's secret companion. There was quite a collection of hidden letters. What should I do? My heart was racing.

"Well then, let's read them right away."

The letters at the bottom were the oldest, so I quickly flipped through and started reading from the bottom.

The nameless woman writing to the High Priest appeared to be a young lady from a respectable family, raised as the designated heir for a long time. However, a younger brother was born years later, and since his Magic Power was high, the heir designation was changed to the young brother. The letter was filled with her frustration at having her pride and all her efforts utterly negated.

Her father, fearing that a woman who resented her brother would inevitably cause conflict, apparently arranged for her to marry into another territory. Both her parents were absorbed in the younger brother, and she had written, "You are the only one I can rely on."

...Nameless lady, I think you're relying on the wrong person.

After her marriage, she apparently continued sending letters frequently. What kind of person had this nameless woman been to the High Priest? He had kept these letters hidden with such care—she must have been someone precious to him. Priests couldn't marry, so perhaps she was someone whose feelings he had secretly harbored.

...I always thought he was a stingy, greedy old pervert, but maybe there was a part of him that experienced pure love after all.

As I read through letter after letter, Monica came looking for me in the Library. Fran tapped me on the shoulder, and I looked up with a start.

"Lady Rozemyn, Wilma has a request."

"What is it?"

"She says she'd like to see the Chief Priest in person and draw him herself."

Her stance had done a complete one-eighty from before. While I was delighted that Wilma was making progress toward coming to my room, the idea that she'd been inspired by a sketch of the Chief Priest left me uneasy.

"...Well, fine. Let's go pick up Wilma, shall we? The Chief Priest will be arriving after this. Fran, Monica and I are going to the orphanage, so please go back to the room ahead of us and prepare to receive the Chief Priest."

When I went to the orphanage to fetch Wilma, she smiled bashfully, saying, "I'm so sorry."

"Seeing Rosina's sketch, I was stunned. I've never seen anyone with such a perfectly balanced face."

"Perfectly balanced?"

"Yes, for drawing purposes, it's a remarkably well-proportioned face. I think Lady Christine would have wanted to keep someone like that near her—both as a creative subject and as an object of admiration. Don't you agree, Lady Rozemyn?"

It seemed that by this place's standards, the Chief Priest was so handsome that Wilma wanted him as a drawing model and Christine—the former Shrine Maiden—would have wanted to keep him close. ...Huh, I wasn't really sure what to make of that.

"I do think the Chief Priest has a well-proportioned face. But he's basically expressionless and has a cold atmosphere. To me, he sometimes seems like a sculpture that's come to life. If anything, Fran, who has become slightly more expressive since becoming my Attendant, seems like a fresh, gentle, transparent, living handsome man."

Fran had probably been the type of boy who was cute like a girl when he was small. His build was stocky now, so you didn't notice it much day to day, but sometimes when he was surprised or smiling, his face looked oddly youthful.

"Lady Rozemyn, you're overpraising Fran."

"Am I? The Chief Priest certainly has a well-proportioned face, but which one you prefer comes down to personal sensibility. ...But between the Chief Priest's Attendant and our Attendant, ours is absolutely cooler and cuter. That's one thing I will never concede."

"Well..."

As I looked down at Wilma and Monica chuckling together, Brigitte was nodding vigorously. ...A silent ally discovered. I had a feeling Brigitte and I would get along.

"Welcome back, Lady Rozemyn."

When I returned to the room, Rosina was waiting, holding a Feshpiel, with a barely contained look of excitement on her face.

And in the room, the Chief Priest was holding a Feshpiel of his own. In preparation for the Chief Priest to write sheet music, Fran had set up a table with writing instruments near the Chief Priest's chair.

"I'm sorry for keeping you waiting with this sudden visitor, Rozemyn."

"Not at all. I was reading something very interesting, so there was no problem at all. When I'm finished, I might even lend them to you."

As I answered with a smile, having asked Fran to also set out paper, a pen, and ink for Wilma, the Chief Priest gave a small laugh.

"Well then, shall we have you provide a song?"

The Chief Priest raised his Feshpiel. While glancing sideways at Wilma beginning to set pen to paper, I considered what to sing.

What would the Chief Priest find interesting if he played and I sang?

...The Chief Priest lacked kindness and love. Love and courage, and making friends—that's what he needed.

I chose a famous anime song and tried humming it.

After I sang a little, the Chief Priest lightly raised his hand to stop me. Then, with fluid grace, he played the main melody and began adding his own arrangement.

Rosina, who had been watching this with barely contained eagerness, gently raised her hand.

"What is it, Rosina?"

"Um, Chief Priest, what do you think about playing it this way?"

When Rosina played her own arrangement, the Chief Priest stroked his chin in admiration and began writing additions on the sheet music.

"If we're making it a duet, this version would work well too."

After that, Rosina and the Chief Priest engaged in lively discussion, refining the piece together. It was so advanced that I had absolutely no idea what was happening.

The Attendants and two guards watched with admiration, and only Wilma was seriously running her pen across the paper.

"By the way, what kind of lyrics go with this piece?"

The Chief Priest's question made my heart leap.

"Um, well... things like 'I want to know your happiness,' or 'I don't want this to end without understanding,' or 'love and courage are needed'... that sort of thing."

"Hmm, a song that begs for love."

...No! That's completely wrong!

Suppressing my urge to blurt that out, I kept my composure. The fruit of my noble education. Who could have imagined that a song beloved by children would end up being interpreted as a love song?

Rosina and the Chief Priest discussed what lyrics would suit the melody and settled on them. It had already turned into something completely different from the original.

"This should do."

With that, the Chief Priest played the piece through from start to finish, accompanying himself. A bright yet gentle melody began to flow, and in his low, resonant voice, the Chief Priest sang a love song dedicated from the Life God Ehweliede to the Earth Goddess Gedulhirie.

It was a song in which the Life God Ehweliede, love at first sight, was courting the Earth Goddess Gedulhirie, saying "I want to know your happiness," so it was based on mythology, but it was undeniably a love song.

The Chief Priest's beautiful voice seeped gently into my ears, and even though it was the same song as the original, I felt goosebumps rise all over my body.

I'd once thought that if the Chief Priest sang love songs, he'd never have any trouble with the ladies—and that thought had now been proven.

Wilma had forgotten to write, her eyes slightly widened as she gazed at the Chief Priest. Rosina, who had been sympathetic to the Chief Priest from the start as someone who understood music, now wore an expression of complete enchantment.

Monica and Nicola were blushing, and Brigitte stared at the Chief Priest with a stunned look on her face.

It wasn't just the women who looked at the Chief Priest in admiration. Fran and Damuel were also watching him with moved expressions.

...A Feshpiel concert by the Chief Priest—could that possibly be something incredibly dangerous?

Having already seen Wilma's idealized sketch of the Chief Priest filtered through her artistic eye, I was starting to worry quite a bit about whether it would really be safe to hold an actual concert.

Thanks to Fran's quick thinking, the face-to-face between the Chief Priest and Rozemyn with their darkest sides fully unleashed was averted.

The former High Priest's letters became the sacrifice.

Next time: Johan and the roller-making.