Volume 3 Chapter 4 Part 1
Well then, day after day I stay by High Highness Klanvenâs side to do my duty. But thereâs a truth that I canât forget. That Klanvenâs work is not just related to the grand festival a month from now.
Normally, people that take the post of âpriestâ reside in temples and shoulder various tasks like baptizing the believers or healing injured people carried in with light magic. âOur doors are open for men and women of all ages and social statusesââ¦â¦ Thatâs more or less the catchphrase of temples. But this time Iâve been taught that in reality itâs not organized that fairly, itâs a structure influenced by various rights and discrimination. But leaving that aside, Klanvenâs business today is one of his ãregular businessã. Naturally, once again itâs not in the royal court but at the grand temple.
Coming to the grand temple from the royal palace, following His Highness Klanven are me, his helper, and his guard, âEdilka Vinceâ. Klanven stands in front of the goddess idol in the worship place as me and that man watch from the altar wing.
Perhaps theyâve learnt from the recent incident, there are several temple knights standing along the wall in defense. The atmosphere is just a bit strict on security; wrapped up in that atmosphere, Klanven stands still for a while in his usual calm way, holding the holy book in one hand.
From the large skylight with beautiful multi-colored stained glass inserted into it, sunlight falls onto Klanvenâs long silver hair, making it sparkle. He moves his eyes, shining silver just like his hair, to the bulky holy book in his hand. His voice is not really loud but still clearly resounding, and he speaks of the agreement the Goddess once made with the first Son of Man. The old language is different from magical language too, itâs also said to be the language of the country in the heavens where the Goddess lives. Even just one word of it has an invisible power. It makes your five senses spontaneously alert.
At the divine sight of His Highness Klanven, loudly reading the holy book in front of the goddess idol, all the believersâ¦.. Men and women of all ages are spellbound, charmed and listening to his words in ecstacy. Even though I know his real mischievous self, I canât help but be charmed like all the other believers.
Whatever heâs like on the inside, Klanvenâs appearance is like first-class goods. And more importantly than anything else, itâs probably because His Highness Klanven resembles the princess. Hm? No, no, is it the opposite? Would it be more accurate in this case to say that the princess resembles Klanven? Well, either way, just the fact that he has features resembling the Princessâs means that Iâd think relatively highly of him. But unfortunately, his true personality is like that. You canât swallow that personality down whether you boil it or bake it or fry it or instantly throw it on the fire. Taking that into consideration, the face and the personality cancel each other out into zero â or perhaps into a negative number.
But even so, the sight of His Highness Klanven in his pure white priest clothes is incredibly splendid. That reminds me, at my wedding with this man beside me, the princess looked dazzlingly beautiful too. Thereâs something about the sight of Klanven now that leads to the sight of the princess then. Iâll say it canât be helped that I ended up getting charmed too.
ãOi.ã
ãYes?ã
I look up at the small voice I hear from beside me, only to see those sunrise-colored eyes looking not so pleased, gazing down at me. Even at this grand temple, âEdilka Vinceâ is the center of attention just like Klanven, not speaking more than the absolute minimum necessary. So what happened now?
I reply, just soft enough that it wonât bother Klanvenâs recitation, tilting my head to the side. He silently returns his gaze to Klanven. But, his right hand.
ãâ¦â¦ã
I instinctively stay silent when he grabs my left hand. What is this? What does he mean? Iâm the wife of âAgedilus Von Lancentâ, Iâm not meant to socialize any more than colleagues do with âEdilka Vinceâ. What does he mean to do if someone sees this?
But even if I say that, heâs just looking at Klanven with a feigned face so I canât expect him to reply to me. Even though everyoneâs gazes here are focused on Klanven reciting the holy book, this is still incredibly bad. Even if I try to complain that with my gaze, even if I try to pull my hand back, he just grabs my hand tighter with a nonchalant air.
ãSir Edilka, umâ¦ã
ãItâs your fault.ã
He says that, turning a deaf ear to my protests, tightening his grip on my hand even more. Whatâs ãitâs your faultã supposed to mean? If I talk too much, itâll bother the recitation so I canât protest more forcefully than this. All I can do is stay obediently quiet.
Feeling extremely embarrassed, I turn my gaze away from him, looking down. When I somehow grip his hand tightly back, his hand loosens its grip.
â¦â¦Is this, perhapsâ¦
ãAre you⦠jealous?ã
I look up at him and ask that with a small voice, but he doesnât respond. But the fact that his ears are just slightly red is more of an answer than anything else.
ââHe really is a hopeless man.
Itâs absolutely ridiculous for me to put personal feelings in this job, just what is he worried about? But then again, that makes me happy, so itâs not my place to say anything to him either. Ever since I was appointed as His Highness Klanvenâs helper, even these small moments where we can peacefully stay beside each other have become so precious, so perhaps it makes me far too happy.
Then, Klanvenâs recitation ends. He closes the holy book with a âthudâ, making his way towards us.
ãHey, Iâve kept you waiting, havenât I?ã
Klanven says that in a gentle tone, smiling. With a face full of feigned ignorance, that man has taken his hand from me and quietly bows to him. Following him, I too lift up the hem of my one-piece maidservant uniform, bowing. Watching us with a smile, Klanven lightly strikes that manâs shoulder.
ãLooks like the temple knights wanna talk about the defenses from now on. Would you go and speak to them?ã
ãUnderstood.ã
ãFilmina, would you come together with me?ã
ãYes.ã
When I nod in reply, His Highness Klanven takes my hand, still gently smiling. He draws me in closer, just like how one would be with a lover, keeping his other hand on my waist. I canât refuse or resist at his incredibly swift movements, stuck in Klavenâs arms just like that.
It seems the people around have been sneakily peeking at us as they suddenly start to murmur. At the same time, that manâs well arranged eyebrows twitch with a start. Iâm not sure if he realizes my state or not, as Iâm internally screaming, but for now he says nothing more and does nothing more too, quickly walking to the temple knights.
His golden hair, tied in a ponytail at the nape of his neck, shakes just like a tail. Watching his retreating figure, I once again look at Klanven to see his amber eyes are surprisingly close to me.
ãYour⦠Your Highnessâ¦â¦?ã
At my words, that beautiful face which so resembles the princessâs, deepens his smile further. Then he says nothing more, leaving the worship place of this grand temple, walking to the waiting room, his hand still around my waist.
Every time we take a step further, Iâm pieced by the gazes of the priests, worshippers that have come here to pray, and the temple knights. My body is stiff with tension and I canât awkwardly protest either; all I can do is surrender myself to Klanven.
Now that itâs come to this, the question âis His Highness Klanven actually aware of his own position and influence?â greatly comes to my mind. The very strong feeling that weâre disturbing the public morals of the temple, it isnât just my imagination, is it? But there are no priests or temple knights that try to challenge him. Everyone just bows their head right as they see Klanvenâs face. Having so much power is scary.
ãSo Iâm going to change clothes now, would you wait here a bit? Canât have you randomly wander off with a stranger.ã
ââWeâve finally reached the door of the waiting room, and right as I think heâll let me go, this is how he speaks to me. This man is technically a stranger, but just by mental age, Iâm considerably older than him. But itâs no use. I already canât find the words to say, so I nod and stop, watching Klanven disappear into the waiting room.
The door closes with a âthudâ, I hear the sound of it being locked from the inside. Even though it took just a short period of time to get here, Iâm now completely exhausted. Stifling a sigh, I lean on the wall beside the door. Since thereâs no one looking, I take the chance to slowly slip down and sit.
ãOuchhhhâ¦â¦ã
Now that I say that out loud, I feel much more pain. My right ankle is swollen and hot. Throbbing with pain, thatâs the place I twisted when I carelessly fell in my room last night. I didnât think much of it then, but that was naive. I managed to bear it with sheer willpower until now, since that man and Klanvenâs eyes were on me, but the pain is steadily increasing. Itâs not so bad that I canât walk, but itâs probably not a good plan to just ignore it. Iâve managed it until now, but I donât have much confidence in how much longer I can handle it.
Feeling somewhat pathetic, I look up at the ceiling for no particular reason. Light flows in from the stained glass inserted in the high ceiling; the light changes to various colors, just as if it were trapped inside a kaleidoscope, an optical illusion. Sparkling, sparkling. Itâs so dazzling. I suddenly remember mine and that manâs wedding ceremony. Then too, the sky was full of light like this. Except I was wearing a wedding dress then, and now Iâm wearing maidservant clothes. What a difference.
ãâ¦â¦Really, you have no idea whatâs going to happen in life.ã
ãIsnât it a bit too early for a still-young lady such as yourself to be saying that?ã
I reflexively gasp at the sudden voice interrupting. I move my eyes from the ceiling to the source of that voice. There stands an elderly man, clad in pure white priest clothes. His beautiful white hair has been smoothed down with oil, an intellectual light in his deep maroon eyes. Even though heâs shorter than me, he stands dignified with his back straight, strangely looking taller. Deep wrinkles are etched into his meekly smiling face, but he has a youthfulness that doesnât make you feel like heâs âoldâ.
I know this elderly man. Thereâs no way I wouldnât know him. Because Iâve seen him countless times at all the grand festivals until now, standing and smiling at the balcony.
ãSir Heathrowâ¦â¦?ã