Prologue
It was the beginning of spring, right after the end of Spring Prayer. Young plants were growing greener by the day, their former pallor already long forgotten. The morning was bright, but it started to rain a little after noon; no doubt it was the rain of blessings. The farmers thanked Flutrane the Goddess of Water for watering their fields and, after finishing lunch, dedicated themselves to their indoor handiwork.
An elegantly carved carriage was rolling down a road between the fields, which were now clear of farmers. There was an ornate family crest engraved into a metal plate on the door, signaling the high status of the rider. But unfortunately, the poorly timed rain had muddied the roads and slowed the carriage’s progress, and it was hard for a certain someone to hide their frustration at how much slower they were going than they would be on the stone roads of the city.
“...Flutrane is feeling unkind today, I see.”
Why must you summon rain on the day I travel outside? Bezewanst bitterly asked Flutrane, all the while cursing the intense shaking of the carriage.
It was just before fifth bell when he arrived at Giebe Glaz’s summer villa, which was located near the border to Ehrenfest’s Central District.
“Welcome to my humble abode, Lord Bezewanst,” Glaz greeted Bezewanst as he disembarked from his carriage, his fat belly swaying when he stepped down.
He was taken to the spacious parlor where there were already ten-some nobles gathered and chatting. There had been no other carriages in sight, though; it seemed he was the only visitor who had arrived by one. These other guests were true nobles who had traveled here using their own highbeasts, most likely because they wanted their meeting kept a secret from everyone, including their own servants.
Bezewanst could tell from Glaz’s uncomfortable expression that he had been ordered to host the gathering in his own mansion by Giebe Gerlach. It was fairly common for archnobles and mednobles to force the hosting of secret meetings onto laynobles.
Feeling nothing in particular about that, Bezewanst strolled over to the seat of honor and sat down as though it were the most normal thing in the world before welcoming the greetings of the gathered nobles. While that was going on, he could see Glaz talking to a noble he didn’t recognize.
“Count Bindewald, seated there is Bezewanst, the High Bishop of Ehrenfest,” said Glaz.
“Oh, the High Bishop, hm...?”
In truth, Bezewanst had been sent to the temple and so he wasn’t actually a noble. Under normal circumstances, the nobles gathered at the mansion would never yield the seat of honor to a temple man, but both Bezewanst’s mother and father had been candidates to become archduke. He had pure archduke blood flowing through him.
The only reason he had been sent to the temple was because the previous giebe, Leisegang, had commanded it. Bezewanst had somewhat low mana for his family and his mother had died right after giving birth to him. As a result, there was nobody to protect him when Leisegang, who was from the family of his father’s now primary wife, demanded that his father put him in the temple—a demand which led to him having to take on the robes while still a baby. From birth he had been raised not as a noble, but as a priest.
However, his older sister of the same mother still treasured him as her only living blood relative, and the gathered nobles could not treat him lightly due to that; they knew well that his cooperation would be essential to advising and influencing his older sister.
“Lord Bezewanst, this is Count Bindewald from Ahrensbach. He will be instrumental in achieving our goals.”
The fact he had been introduced as a count told Bezewanst that he was an archnoble with his own province. Bezewanst was fairly overweight himself, but even he couldn’t help but notice that Bindewald was quite the sizable individual. His eyes were murky and he had the look of someone who would commit heinous acts without a second thought.
Bezewanst, pretending not to notice that Bindewald was rather brazenly looking down at him despite him being the High Bishop, mustered the energy to give a composed nod. As he sat in the seat of honor, it was the guests who would be greeting him.
“I ask whether I may offer a blessing in appreciation of this serendipitous meeting, ordained by the pure rivers flowing from Flutrane the Goddess of Water.”
“You may.”
A faint green glow emitted from the ring nestled on Bindewald’s left middle finger. It was the kind of ring that all nobles had, the one that parents gave to their children after their baptism ceremony.
An indescribable frustration weighed on Bezewanst’s heart as he looked down at the ring. If not for the Leisegangs, he would never have been sent to the temple; he would have been given such a ring himself. The one he wore now had been given to him by his older sister when he came of age, but that ring did not change that he had not been baptized in the Noble’s Quarter, nor had he attended the Royal Academy.
Bezewanst knew there was a clear difference between him and Bindewald, and while that did frustrate him, it also gave him a dark pleasure to see such nobles kneeling before him—even if they were just looking to exploit his older sister’s authority.
“Count Bindewald is also the one who has been delivering the letters from Lady Georgine.”
According to the nobles in attendance, Bindewald had been a bridge of communication between Bezewanst and his niece, who had married into the duchy of Ahrensbach, south of Ehrenfest. Despite having been asked by his niece to fill several chalices with mana, Bezewanst had only ever met with the giebes of Ehrenfest who served as middlemen. He had never met any Ahrensbach nobles in person before now.
“I pray that Dregarnuhr the Goddess of Time has woven our
