CHAPTER 38
As the grand carriage carrying the Archbishop entered San Fidelio, flower petals fluttered through the air.
The welcome was unusually warm, reflecting the months-long absence of the great temple’s master.
Not only the priestesses and priests but even the children of the training hall, dressed as flower boys and girls, stood in line to greet the Archbishop.
However, not a single face bore a truly welcoming smile.
This was especially true for the children, who could not hide their emotions.
“We rejoice in the Archbishop’s safe return, blessed by the power of the god Enes.”
“…Thank you.”
The Archbishop awkwardly smiled as he ran a hand over Nero’s head while the child placed a garland around his neck.
No one said a word, but it was clear they could not conceal their gloom.
Though his return mirrored his departure—calm, with no fanfare—the children looked as though something precious had been taken from them.
“Did I do something wrong, by any chance?”
“Huh? N-no, not at all.”
Nero, who had been spacing out and responded late, shook his head as if annoyed.
Feeling awkward, the Archbishop gently put his arms around the children’s shoulders.
“I said such a ceremony wasn’t necessary. Were you standing under the sun too long waiting for me?”
“No.”
“Perhaps you missed a meal?”
“No, we didn’t.”
“Or… maybe you’re just not that happy to see me.”
“…”
As expected, the children couldn’t lie.
But the issue didn’t stop with them.
Even as he passed by the priests and priestesses and made eye contact with the High Priestess, she quickly averted her gaze.
Only when he finally reached Killian—who stood at the very end of the long procession—could the Archbishop have a proper conversation for the first time since his return.
“Thank you for traveling such a long way, Archbishop.”
“…Not at all. I’m sure you had much to endure in my absence, Captain.”
“…”
Even the usually reserved Killian didn’t deny it.
The change in atmosphere from his usual quietness made the Archbishop feel uneasy as he took his place at the podium.
When Killian knelt on one knee according to formal etiquette, the Archbishop officially acknowledged his service.
“I’m sorry for forcing this difficult position upon you. You must’ve had a great deal to handle.”
“I’ll present my accumulated reports once we’re inside.”
“I appreciate that. By the way… if it’s alright, there’s something I’d like to confirm first…”
“Please go ahead.”
Killian, rising to his full height, looked up and made eye contact.
The majesty of Archbishop Raphael III—symbol of compassion and called the living god—enveloped the temple.
“Let’s hear it then. Why does everyone look so grim?”
“…So, you’re telling me that the young lady from House Sergio stirred things up at the temple in my absence.”
The Archbishop, having calmly listened to the priests and priestesses, finally discovered the cause of the odd atmosphere.
Though there had been much exposition about Adelaide beforehand, the seasoned Archbishop quickly cut to the heart of the matter.
“How strange. She appeared one day out of nowhere and disappeared just as suddenly.”
“…She said she would stay until you returned, Archbishop.”
“Then why did she leave so suddenly?”
“That’s…”
Faced with the solemn question, everyone glanced at one another nervously. Killian lowered his gaze, emotionless.
He was always statue-like, but now his presence felt almost foreign.
Wasn’t he just starting to seem human lately?
Though he had returned to his flawless, untouchable self, his blue eyes were disturbingly empty.
Perhaps noticing this, the Archbishop watched Killian closely, and finally, the anxious Mikael stepped forward.
“…Forgive me for saying this, but it seems the Lady may have violated temple regulations.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Mikael!”
The Archbishop and Killian both snapped their gazes at him.
Especially Killian, who had barely been listening until now, shot him a sharp, warning look that made Mikael flinch.
“Do not speak carelessly.”
“I—I didn’t mean it that way…”
“It’s fine. I should know what happened in the temple in my absence.”
The Archbishop’s tone remained gentle, but the weight of his authority was unmistakable.
“I’d also like to ask you, Captain. Is keeping this matter from me truly for my benefit?”
The Archbishop’s wisdom had not come without reason.
Eventually, Killian turned away with a look of disapproval, and Mikael hesitantly continued.
“The Lady met with a merchant last night, privately.”
“…And that’s a problem?”
“Well… she handed him money.”
As soon as the words were out, the priestesses and priests gasped.
Money changing hands within the sacred temple? That was strictly forbidden.
“…Are you certain?”
“I saw it with my own eyes. And starting the very next day, the ingredients used changed noticeably—it was hard not to suspect something.”
Though it felt wrong to speak this way, as a knight of San Fidelio, it was Mikael’s duty to root out such illegal acts within the temple.
And if he didn’t reveal what the Lady had done, Captain Killian could be wrongly blamed for treating her harshly. Loyal Mikael could not bear that.
“Priestess Rebecca was there too. She must remember. The Lady clearly handed over the money, and the man accepted it. Before that, she even scolded him harshly.”
“Is this true, Sister Rebecca?”
“W-well…”
Rebecca lowered her head.
Surprised looks were cast her way.
Everyone knew she disliked Adelaide.
If there were ever a time she’d eagerly speak up, it would be now—yet her expression was terribly troubled.
Sweat began to bead on her forehead. Mikael pitied her.
“She seemed to be trying to stop the Lady. And when they left, she went her own way, visibly upset.”
“…So, you’re saying the Captain discovered the incident and expelled the Lady.”
“I never expelled her.”
Killian’s voice carried unusual weight.
For someone so rarely emotional, even that much was shocking enough to ripple through the crowd.
Sensing the tension, the Archbishop dismissed everyone but Killian.
But once alone, the Archbishop brought up a very different matter.
Stroking his beard, he began, “His Majesty’s illness is worse than expected. He seemed very concerned about your whereabouts. I suspect he used his illness to keep me around, hoping I’d learn where you were.”
“…”
“Soon, ‘that’ will begin to show its true form. You should be ready, Killian. For now, you remain within the temple, but soon, the world will know you’re here.”
“…I don’t care.”
“Killian.”
“I abandoned all attachments when I came here. There’s nothing I need to know, and nothing I want to know.”
His meaning was clear: he wanted no further discussion on the matter.
The Archbishop studied him quietly, then asked even more carefully:
“…Then where do your attachments lie now?”
“Archbishop.”
“Your reaction earlier seemed rather different.”
When Killian did not deny it, the Archbishop hid a knowing smile.
Now he understood why the High Priestess had written urging him to return quickly.
Had he known Killian would be like this, he’d have left the Emperor’s side, no matter how persistent he was.
“I just don’t get it. She’s just a noble lady. Hardly someone a man like you should be concerned with.”
The Archbishop acted innocent—an old-fashioned tactic, but reliable. If the shoe fits, anyone will step right into it.
“Why assume she’s not someone I should care about?”
Exactly as expected.
“Well, from what I’ve heard, she adapted surprisingly well to temple life, but her sudden departure suggests she didn’t really belong. And surely, someone from such a powerful family wouldn’t volunteer here without reason.”
“Archbishop.”
“They say she had something to discuss with me. Do you know what it was?”
“…”
Still pushing, the Archbishop continued.
In all his years, he’d never imagined using such cheap tricks on someone like this. But that’s the beauty of life—always unexpected.
“Hm, I wish I knew what she wanted to ask of me.”
“And if you did?”
“It’s true, San Fidelio has long benefited from House Sergio’s generous support. Even if it’s not about funding, if it’s within my power as Enes’s representative, I’d gladly grant it.”
“…”
“So if you do know, Captain…”
“No. I don’t.”
Even if he did, he didn’t. And the Archbishop especially must never know.
‘…So that’s how it is.’
Having interpreted the silence, the Archbishop turned his gaze to Killian, who had moved toward the window.
It only took a few steps for a man with such long legs, but even those few movements betrayed uncharacteristic urgency.
“If not even my proxy, the Captain himself, knows… then it can’t be helped. While many are still upset, she didn’t hold any official duties, so that void will soon be forgotten.”
“Who dares say her duties weren’t important?”
A surprising reaction.
The Archbishop folded his hands on the desk, eyes glinting.
“I heard murmurs among the children. They said she mostly worked in the kitchen, carried supplies when needed, and recently even cared for the little ones.”
“…”
“Tasks like those can be reassigned to other volunteers or priests. It’s not a serious loss.”
“No, it is.”
Killian turned from the window to face him.
His blue eyes, like twin flames, didn’t waver—even before the temple’s master.
“She never once neglected her duties. She never broke a dish. And she cared for the children better than anyone. You cannot call that ‘just’ kitchen work.”
“Oh? Is that so?”
“Status and family don’t determine one’s place. Only their own will does. The Lady never looked down on others, never leaned on her title. She worked tirelessly. She was diligent and persistent, even if her methods weren’t perfect.”
“Then why did you let her go?”
Killian, who had spoken so fluidly about Adelaide, now fell silent.
The Archbishop’s gray eyes watched him, as though peering into the soul of an ice sculpture.
“If even someone like you noticed those qualities, other men surely would have, too.”
“…Other men?”
Killian’s eyes sharpened dangerously.
He looked almost shaken by such an obvious realization.
“She must be of marriageable age by now. I imagine many men hover around her. And if she takes after her father, she’s likely quite beautiful.”
“Well, yes… but what I meant was…”
“I know. You’ve never cared about such things.”
“…”
“Isn’t that a relief, then? Even if you let her go, others—”
“No. I never let her go.”
Killian’s denial was swift and firm.
He was already turning toward the entrance. He hadn’t forgotten—who once stood at that very end.
“I’ll pave the way in gold if I must.”
“…Captain, where are you rushing off to?”
“Rest well.”
Killian adjusted the sword at his side, leaving the Archbishop with a hint of a smile on his face.
Clack.
As he threw open the door, someone unexpected was pacing the hallway.
“…C-Captain. I… I have something to tell you.”
“Sister Rebecca.”
Killian made it clear he didn’t wish to speak.
Rebecca would usually take the hint and leave, but not today. Her expression remained anxious.
“Well, it’s about Lady Adele. I-I should have spoken earlier, but there was a misunderstanding—”
“The Archbishop is inside. Please discuss it with him.”
Killian’s firm gaze urged her.
Rebecca shrank back at his clear annoyance but gave a shaky smile.
“S-Still, I think you should hear it too… Since we were both observing Miss Agnes…”
“No.”
Killian pushed the door open even wider.
And his voice, usually cool and composed, for once sounded unmistakably human.
“It’s true I watched her. But I never spied on her.”
