He didn’t know what kind of scheme that sinister bastard would use to put the High Priest in a predicament. Especially since the pure High Priest wasn’t accustomed to aristocratic speech, he was certain to fall for tricks.
The intention was obvious. The High Priest had fully supported the Imperial Family from the start, and as proof, had bestowed a blessing upon the Emperor before everyone. Destroying what they couldn’t have was one of the nobles’ nasty coping methods.
Het pushed through the crowd toward Rou, but as if they’d already received orders that he would interfere this way, there were unusually many young ladies jumping in front of Het. Even though their political views were opposite, he couldn’t roughly push them aside, so Het ultimately couldn’t stop Mac.
Mac looked at Het from afar and twitched the corners of his mouth. He crafted a voice that sounded truly regretful.
“I’m truly sorry, but it would be difficult for me to tell you my worries.”
“Hm?”
For someone with worries, his attitude seemed quite well-fed.
“Since I’m entrusted with important duties serving His Imperial Majesty the Emperor, I earnestly ask for your understanding that I cannot carelessly leak state affairs.”
At first, Rou suspected this wet-behind-the-ears bastard was mocking him, but when Brukisel was mentioned, he quickly erased his suspicion. If this person’s worries were related to Brukisel, it might indeed be difficult to tell others, he thought.
“Mm. I see, understood.”
Mac smiled as if moved. While inwardly sneering at the High Priest’s foolishness. If you mixed in a little truth, no matter how much of a lie it was, it would sound plausible. Still, wise men would sense something off there, but this High Priest showed no such sign.
It was laughable that he didn’t even realize he was being mocked and was offering to listen to his worries.
‘How did such a foolish person rise to the position of High Priest?’
That truly seemed like a miracle created by the Goddess. Mac raised eyes brimming with tears to look at the High Priest. He opened his mouth while looking at the flowers.
“I heard that the High Priest can read flower fortunes. Would you please resolve my worries as well?”
“Ah…”
Rou hesitated for a moment. Not because Mac had belittled Rou’s prophecy by calling it flower fortune-telling.
If his worries were related to Brukisel, he might lose consciousness and collapse again like that time. There were many people in this banquet hall who relied on him like Mac, and if he showed his weak body before them, they might become unable to rely on him spiritually.
Meanwhile, when the High Priest suddenly showed signs of hesitation, Mac grew anxious instead. No matter what, his companion was the High Priest—if he realized he was being blatantly disrespected, it wouldn’t be good for his political standing. Mac made an earnest expression and appealed that he truly needed help.
Rou looked around. He thought it would be good if Jes or Yan were nearby so they could immediately pull him out of the banquet hall and move him if he suddenly fainted. But the two weren’t visible, hidden by the strangely densely gathered crowd.
Fortunately, he noticed Het, who was a head taller than others, slowly but gradually approaching.
‘Right. If it comes to it, Het will catch me, so it’ll be fine.’
Rou had no idea that he’d unintentionally made Mac anxious. Just before Mac, whose insides were burning up, was about to apologize and flee with his tail between his legs saying it was nothing, Rou accepted his request.
“Very well.”
“…What? Ah… Th-thank you.”
Rou immediately looked at the bouquet. The plump, fresh blossoms had sparkling water droplets on them. The water droplets glittering under the pouring light were more fragrant than any jewel.
Among them, Rou picked up a blossom that shone particularly golden. Like when bright yellow pollen scatters, a golden aura spread subtly around one blossom.
‘What’s this?’
Among the plump, fresh flowers, the one Rou picked out was particularly wilted. Even though the flower hadn’t fully bloomed yet, the petals hung half-limp and powerless.
When Rou picked out the most unsightly flower among dozens of splendid flowers, Mac was flustered too.
“That… Why would such a blossom be mixed in? Please read the fortune with a different flower.”
“This flower.”
Rou cut Mac’s words short. Mac felt displeased as if he’d been disrespected, but since he had nothing better than the High Priest in status or honor, he had to keep his mouth shut.
“Black mold has formed at the bottom.”
“Th-that’s true, but… Perhaps the flower got a bit damaged being transported all the way here from the south?”
Mac’s tone grew increasingly cautious. He didn’t know if it was his imagination or not, but the High Priest’s golden eyes seemed to keep flashing. The anecdote of a drunkard who insulted the Goddess and was struck by lightning under clear skies came to mind.
“Black mold doesn’t stop at one blossom.”
Rou grabbed and pulled the bouquet. The servant couldn’t dare interfere with the High Priest and carefully let go, and soon flowers were scattered on the banquet hall floor.
“Look. Aren’t all the stem ends damaged?”
The bouquet spilled on the floor drew attention. It was true they’d tried to embarrass the High Priest, and it was true they’d tried to show that spectacle to everyone, but somehow the situation was rolling strangely. The ominous murmuring made Mac extremely anxious.
When those golden eyes flashed, Mac felt like a condemned prisoner on the execution stand. He staggered backward, and the back of his head bumped into someone’s chest. Mac whirled around.
Where are you going? Het smirked with his lips. Seeing Mac fleeing with his tail curled like this, the High Priest must clearly be handling things well. Seeing Mac’s troubled expression, it seemed he’d worried for nothing.
This was the first time he’d seen Mac so unable to find his rhythm. He’d always thought he was one who smiled despicably, but to show such a powerless appearance, anxiously waiting only for someone’s help.
Het laughed refreshingly. It was so exhilarating he wanted to toss the High Priest up in celebration.
“M-move…”
A commoner with no breeding—how dare you block the way. Just before Mac could spout his old-fashioned nonsense, the High Priest took one step toward him.
Strangely, Mac couldn’t escape that gaze. Though smaller than Het, who was built like a brown bear, he too was a fairly robust man. Even when he joined the Imperial Knights, the only one with a better build than him was that bastard Het.
For him to feel intimidated by that small, frail High Priest—it was hard to believe.
Mac wanted to believe he’d felt wrong, but each time a gleam appeared in those golden eyes, he trembled like a baby animal before a predator. It was the emotion a sinner might feel before one who knows all the truths of the world.
“There’s a traitor inside. If you leave him be, he’ll slowly rot and decay, ruining the entire bouquet.”
“…”
Rou looked at Mac once, then at the bouquet spilled on the floor, and said:
“Like that.”
Mac turned pale. The murmuring behind the High Priest only grew louder. Betrayal. Conspiracy. And treason. Grim words were exchanged. Naturally, since the High Priest hadn’t openly pointed to anyone, no one was specifically identified, but the atmosphere in the banquet hall grew more chaotic.
And for good reason—treason was a crime grave enough to erase an entire family from the history books. Direct descendants received harsh punishment and couldn’t avoid execution, and even collateral relatives who had nothing to do with the matter were stripped of their names as collective responsibility.
The lives of those living without names were worse than livestock. For central nobles who valued aristocratic life above all else, it was truly a terror worse than death.
Perhaps not having thought that what he’d done would cause such a ripple, Mac couldn’t continue speaking and hastily fled the scene.
Rou watched Mac’s retreating figure.
Perhaps because Mac said he couldn’t tell all his circumstances, what Rou could see was also quite limited.
Some person giving an ominous order. And dozens of people moving in unison according to that command. They were heading toward the same place. Namely, the Imperial Palace.
But the Imperial Palace wasn’t such an easy place. Complex movement routes, inefficient pathways, and the Emperor’s Palace that could oversee all movements at a glance—the Imperial Palace was the best fortress to prevent sinister movements. If only there were no betrayal from insiders.
Rou clearly saw someone guiding someone to the Emperor’s Palace bedroom. Though it was a hazy scene as if shrouded in fog, it was clear that Brukisel would be in danger.
“Urk…”
As expected, was it a future involving Brukisel? His head grew dizzy and his stomach churned. When he kept drinking honey tea for his queasy stomach, Het approached.
“Let’s go to the temple. I’ll escort you there.”
Het supported Rou. The High Priest’s complexion was poor, as if he would collapse at any moment.
“Het.”
Rou called Het in a small, fading voice.
“To Brukisel, tell this story to Brukisel.”
Rou grabbed one of Het’s shoulders and spoke. Did his words reach Het? Rou’s large golden eyes reflected anxiety as is.
This was the first time Het had seen the High Priest so shaken. Hadn’t the High Priest remained composed even when locked in a greenhouse full of poisonous plants for seven days? Just what kind of existence was the Emperor to this person?
But Het too was a knight who had pledged loyalty to the Emperor. As one who had sworn to protect the empire’s master, he had a duty to inform the Emperor of this fact. Whether the Emperor would actually believe the High Priest’s story was a matter for after.
Het nodded firmly. He entrusted the High Priest’s support to Jes and Yan, and headed toward the Emperor’s Palace.
