Chapter 70
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70.
From then until year's end, the Temple became a veritable hub of activity.
Naturally, during the process of renegotiating the treaty, they attempted intimidation with their tired repertoire of threats—
"Surely you weren't planning to proceed with treaty negotiations that will determine the Temple's future without me present, Your Highness?"
"W-we had no idea the Saint would arrive in the Capital so soon...."
"Unlike those useless priests, the kind Marquis Clupea, who has always cherished Wesley, informed the Temple of this important matter."
Wesley Morel's return to the Capital had effectively shut down their schemes.
Thanks to this, the subsequent negotiations proceeded with rational and logical discourse.
Wesley's title of Saint was no mere formality, and with ambitions to build a Temple that was austere and righteous, they seemed to navigate the delicate balance with the Emperor quite skillfully.
And our Winter Palace Administration....
"This is an opportunity for all of you to gain merit. Please conduct a fair and thorough investigation."
"Yes, Second Advisor!"
Thanks to Francis Ashwood's inexplicably enthusiastic efforts in an odd direction and the new administrative officials' diligent work, we managed to complete the subsidy investigation without incident.
[The Virtuous Winter Palace Demon, Marquis Clupea! Embarks on Temple Reform....]
[Mandatory Temple Donations Completely Abolished; Future Operations to Rely on Voluntary Contributions and State Funding....]
[In-Depth Report: The Temple's Donation Management Records!]
[Shocking! The Heretical Witch Was On Our Side.]
And somehow, I had even acquired the epithet "Heretical Witch"—a moniker that was practically a curse.
Upon reading these morning papers, I found myself in an extraordinarily complicated state of mind. Yet when I arrived at the Office,
"...It seems I must redouble my efforts."
"But Advisor Ashwood, at least your name appears here! 'The Winter Palace Apostate, Prince Ashwood, also demonstrated meticulous handling,' it says."
"Still, this is merely the beginning. I shall hone my skills further to demonstrate even more decisive and merciless work, Advisor Salice."
"We'll do our best too, First Advisor!"
Francis Ashwood and the new administrative officials spoke with such envious gazes directed at me that I couldn't bring myself to voice my grievances.
And it was, as always, only my superior who noticed my feelings—
"I suppose I need to work harder too, so that Roselita and I can be called demons together."
He teased me without mercy.
Truly, an infuriating man.
*
In any case, while the Winter Palace Administration and I were consumed by the Temple investigation, the results from the Criminal Mages' analysis of the magical scrolls began to arrive in fragments.
The problem, however, was this....
"This is really strange. Whenever we try to trace it, the formula just scatters in all directions."
The results themselves were peculiar, and the scroll's contents were equally bizarre.
"Isn't surveillance of people illegal?"
The recipient's name was corrupted, but my title was clearly written in the subject line.
Moreover, the contents subtly reproached me for lacking any sense of duty whatsoever.
'I don't want to show sympathy or participate in environmental protection.'
As long as I don't become a fraud....
At my bewilderment, the Criminal Mages grumbled at me with wounded pride.
"Salice Advisor, surely you won't stop giving us strange tasks now, thinking we're incompetent for not being able to do this either?"
"If you just give us time, we can prove we're better than this gloomy bastard!"
"That's right! Even if we can't read the room and have no sense of atmosphere, we've never heard anyone say our magic falls short anywhere!"
"So you should entrust difficult and complex things to us! Don't give ideas to him!"
They even displayed a strange competitive spirit.
"You said you'd answer if asked, so we should use that. Besides, being surveilled feels unpleasant."
Of course, I had no obligation to listen to those who hadn't properly fulfilled their commission.
"That's unfair! Witch!"
"Right! You're the Winter Palace witch, and you won't even take our side! After all the strange things we've obediently made here!"
"These people are really sinister! Even if you're called a witch, you could get tangled up and caught in their strange experiments!"
"Exactly! We use noble formulas, but they use weird character arrangements!"
But what came next made me open my eyes wide.
"We couldn't trace them, but we know who they are?"
"Any mage knows. They're the exiles from the Magic Tower!"
"Right, like us, they lack sense and can't read the atmosphere, but they should have proven their competence through research. Instead, they fought over the position of Magic Tower Master and got exiled."
"They lost and got exiled! We were just caught by the Winter Palace witch while doing what we were told."
The Criminal Mages began rattling off their story, as if to show they could be helpful too.
And within that conversation, I felt a premonition that I might finally grasp the thread of the dissonance I had felt all along.
The source of that sensation—that something seemed off despite knowing this story so well ever since I was born as Roselita Salice in this world.
*
"Are you tired?"
Cassian Artez gently brushed aside the hair falling across my forehead as he asked.
As the final day of a busy and hectic year arrived, I found myself attending the year-end Imperial Ball.
Now that I was no longer merely the Salice Advisor—a baron's daughter—but rather Marquis Clupea and the Second Prince's betrothed, I had to engage in countless conversations with various people.
After the rank conferment ceremony, I had been drowning in demanding duties while simultaneously completing preparations for the mining and distribution of Lair byproducts.
Just as I was being worn down to my breaking point, Cassian extracted me from the crowd with impeccable timing.
He willingly offered me his embrace, allowing me to recharge my depleted energy in the sanctuary of silence.
"...I prepared myself for this, but it's more than I anticipated."
"The number of people grateful to you has only increased, especially with the Temple matters entangled in all of this."
Cassian handed me a steaming cup of mulled wine, now that I had regained enough energy to speak.
Though his perceptiveness was often infuriating, at moments like this I was genuinely grateful for that uncanny intuition.
I craved the wine, but my body was so exhausted that even a small amount would send me into immediate slumber.
Instead of drinking immediately, I paused to feel the warmth in my hands.
"Your Highness, there's something I wanted to tell you."
Since yesterday's conversation with the Magicians, a sharp, biting sensation had begun creeping into my fingertips.
It was strange—even with the warm cup of mulled wine cradled in my hands.
'...I hope the reply comes quickly.'
I wanted to clearly identify the discomfort I'd been sensing, so I sent a question via magical scroll.
A very simple one.
Unlike protagonists in other fantasy novels who methodically unravel each mystery, I was far too ordinary a person, steeped in the sensibilities of my homeland.
Whether because my question was difficult to answer or because I'd sent the message in the early dawn hours, no proper reply had arrived yet.
But before that answer came, I felt compelled to tell him something.
Protagonist or not, he was an unwavering beacon to me as I navigated this world.
"No matter what reply comes through the scroll, please don't change, Your Highness."
"You mean me—cunning and shrewd rather than righteous, burdening you with endless tasks?"
"Yes, Your Highness—the one who reads my heart with eerie precision and chills me with how you anticipate my needs."
He laughed softly at my words, his touch brushing my cheek tenderly.
"Of course. That is my joy."
At his gentle voice, my fingertips—which had been aching with cold—regained their warmth.
Soothed by his presence, I drank the mulled wine and took a deep breath.
Reassured by his answer, I felt renewed confidence to face the people awaiting me.
"I should head back now, or I'll face the Emperor's scolding—"
Just as I spoke with renewed determination, a notification chimed from the magical scroll, and Cassian pulled me tightly against him.
"Wait, Roselita—"
His previously languid and gentle demeanor transformed in an instant into that of a vigilant predator.
"The air... it's distorted."
As he whispered that warning.
-Kyaaah!
The anomaly had occurred.
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