Chapter 189

Chapter 189

The red butterfly hairpin was gleaming softly as it caught the moonlight spilling through the stained-glass windows.

Not a magical device by any means, but the hairpin always lent an even more divine air to the noble appearance of Saint Clarice, enhancing her faithful visage.

Her lush white hair cascaded down her face, spread across the prayer stone prepared for the faithful.

The pure white that symbolized innocence was sublimely imbued in her hair and subtly tinted her modestly elegant saint’s attire.

“Ah, oh... Saint Clarice. I heard you were visiting our church, but I didn’t know you would be here at the cathedral. I-I apologize... Had you given us prior notice...”

It was still dawn, before the sun had risen.

The diligent choir aide who had opened the cathedral early nearly had his heart stop from the shock.

Any follower of the Telos Order would carry the honor of seeing her face just once in a lifetime, and that very Saint... was now sitting alone within the cathedral.

“Oh my. I apologize for being here without notice.”

Unlike when she was Kylie Ecknair, the carefree noble child, as Saint Clarice, she always bore a look of nobility.

The gap between these two personas was so vast it was hard to believe they were the same person.

“Oh, you did not attend the prayer meetings at the Cledric Monastery this summer.”

“The Holy King granted me convenience so that I could prioritize my academic schedule.”

“O-of course... Forgive my intrusion. I did not intend to disturb your prayers.”

“Is there a need to apologize? I’m the one who entered without permission.”

In truth, Clarice was just as flustered.

Intending to remove her enchanting pendant for a moment to pray in solitude, she hadn’t anticipated another worshiper entering during that brief time... and had to respond with a makeshift excuse.

“Is your sudden predawn prayer due to some change of heart? Or perhaps... something troubling you?”

The aide hesitated to ask, and then, feeling awkward again, bit his tongue.

“Ah, I-I am sorry. It was inappropriate of me to ask. Please forget I said anything... I’m just too flustered by the situation...”Rêạd new chapters at novelhall.com

“Don’t worry about it too much. We’re just about to start a new term, aren’t we?”

Clarice, with her soothing voice, calmed the student before clasping her hands together and closing her eyes once more.

“The thought of continuing life far from the Holy King’s building, here at Sylvania Academy, missing the great ceremonies of the Cledric Monastery... brings a curious sentiment.”

“Does it...?”

“That’s why I am praying to Lord Telos, hoping this term will proceed without major troubles.”

After sharing these thoughts, Clarice quietly bowed her head.

To the awe-struck aide, she felt unequivocally like the Saint honored by the Telos Order, causing him to back away breathlessly.

The image of the Saint praying to Telos alone in the cathedral felt like time had stopped in the chapel, compelling the choir student to resolve not to interfere.

As the student exited the cathedral, the sound echoed softly, but did not reach Clarice, lost in her quiet prayer.

The phrases used in prayers to the Deity always varied.

Day or night, sabbath or Advent, whether in the company of the Holy or with ordinary parishioners, during times of joy or sadness... each required a different phrase. Clarice had memorized every single phrase since her childhood.

However, the phrases she used in private prayers were always her own. After all, even as a representative of the Telos Order, there should be a degree of freedom to that extent.

“We’re on the brink of life and death. Do you not understand my words?”

Princess Phoenia, rising abruptly, glares at Tunne. A robust and reliable knightess with auburn hair flowing freely from beneath her helmet, her loyalty, however, does not lie with Princess Phoenia. She is close to the captain of the knights loyal to Princess Persica.

Even though dispatched under the guise of protecting Princess Phoenia, her true purpose is to carry out Princess Persica’s orders. Disobedience to imperial commands is a matter of extreme penalty.

Caught between the commands of Princess Persica and Princess Phoenia, the knightess closes her eyes tightly and speaks.

“Princess Phoenia.”

“Senior Training Officer Tunne, do not make me remember your name for the wrong reasons.”

“If we remain idle now, we may miss the culprit’s trail...”

Tunne is cut off as his head snaps back in surprise. Princess Phoenia Elias Clorel, the princess of mercy. Even the lowest born were embraced and acknowledged by her. This was her nickname because during her time at the Rose Palace, she judged people solely on their capabilities and character. From the royal janitors to third-rate assistants in the royal kitchen and new maids, her natural inclination was to embrace everyone equally in that sinister world of cunning and intrigue. Surely, such a person must exist among royalty, as the servants’ evaluations and rumors suggested.

That very princess, usually so forgiving, now struck a subordinate across the face – an extraordinary sight in the middle of such a large audience. While a slap might not be hugely powerful, it is enough to leave her pale hand even redder.

Yet, as she glares fiercely at Tunne through the rain with narrowed eyes, her gaze remains steadfast. A raindrop follows her jawline, hanging on by a thread until Princess Phoenia finally speaks.

“Please... keep within the lines.”

“...”

“Someone... has fallen, wounded by a sword.”

Princess Phoenia is aware of the dangerous situations Ed has faced throughout his life. The painful truth is that she herself has been the greatest burden and barrier in Ed’s struggle to live. She who first expelled him, stood at the opposing end at vital crossroads, constantly subjected him to blame, doubt, disdain, suffering, and pain – this root of these trials often pointed back to Princess Phoenia.

Despite all the pain in his life, the man has never given up on his will to live. And it was none other than Princess Phoenia who always faced him from the opposite side. However, there is one undeniable truth that no one can refute: Ed Rothtaylor has never blamed Princess Phoenia, not even once. Though sometimes indifferent or dismissive, Ed never blamed his circumstances on others and never despaired.

Tunne finds himself facing Princess Phoenia once again, gasping at what he sees—it’s not just rain running down her chin. Sighing quietly, she tries to maintain a strong façade, yet the pain of a vulnerable young girl of her age is evident.

“If we do nothing... he’ll die... how dear is the life that has been preserved...”

It’s all too easy to forget a simple fact because of that distant lineage and authority. No matter how noble her birth, dazzling in radiant gowns within the magnificent Rose Palace, attending glittering banquets, traveling in carriages as large as a commoner’s house, looking down upon the world, commanding armies with a mere gesture – beneath it all, she’s just a young girl, half-grown.

The thought strikes Tunne like a spear. He realizes something starkly opposed to the imposing airs of royalty he’s witnessed for years—the royals are human too. This blatantly obvious fact suddenly feels like a shocking twist.

“I’ll assign personnel towards the Academy wing.”

Tunne speaks in a trembling voice.

“Training Officer Tunne! If not now...!”

As an aide begins to speak, tunne raises his hand to stop him. Then, seeing Princess Phoenia pressing her hand against Ed’s wound, tunne hesitates before saying, “For now, we follow Princess Phoenia’s command.”

“But if we do that...!”

“We can still capture Lortelle Keheln. We simply prioritize dealing with the situation at hand.”

With that, tunne gathers the soldiers.

Summoning medical personnel isn’t difficult. However, the challenge remains with Lucy Mayrill, who holds Taely’s fate in her grasp. She’s a girl with formidable powers that could end everything in an instant. A boy who could perhaps stop her now lies unconscious, bleeding.

And so, as unleashed magical energy shrouds the sky... ─ The tale comes to an end.

– Amen

Having finished her final prayer, Clarice lifts her head. Past the stained glass, the night’s darkness had given way to morning’s light, with a breeze hinting at a clearing in the thick red clouds.

It’s an in-between moment, not quite morning or night. Feeling the fresh air of dawn, Clarice nods her head, stretches to relieve a stiff body, and just as she intends to leave the chapel, she stumbles over a wooden seat, letting out a sigh. Clutching her necklace, she steps out while suppressing the pain in her toe. Holding back tears, she again adopts the composed countenance of a holy woman and steps outside, taking a short, deep breath.

The early morning air entering her lungs is refreshing. By now, it could well be called the morning air.