IYTTEPAAK Chapter 32

An old man appeared—wrinkled, like ancient timber.

He wore white priestly vestments symbolizing purity and nobility, but hanging all over them, unmistakably, were the trappings of luxury. Even the ceremonial staff he leaned on like a cane was adorned with pure gold and moonstone.

As if drawn straight out of a painting—a corrupt man of the cloth.

"It's been a while, Archbishop Grehmol."

Watching Sasha greet him with such elegance, as though she'd been waiting for him all along, Regen thought:

'Was "the goddess's will" simply another name for the princess's plan?'

Sasha said, "His Imperial Majesty seems to be calling on Archbishop Grehmol quite often these days. It must mean you've earned his deep trust."

In truth, there was nothing particularly special about Grehmol. The Mad Emperor had always called successive archbishops to the palace frequently.

The Mad Emperor's son shall slay his father and seize the throne.

The Mad Emperor had lived his entire life mindful of that curse of a prophecy. Even now, with all his sons wiped out, he remained just as anxious that the prophecy's subject might not be "sons" but "children."

He would go on living that way until the saint confined in the Great Monastery delivered a new prophecy declaring "the Mad Emperor's rule shall be eternal."

Taking Sasha's flattery in earnest, Archbishop Grehmol let out a hearty laugh.

"His Majesty trusts me enough to seek my counsel on matters both great and small. This old body has given both body and soul to the goddess, so when I offer counsel, there's no selfish desire in it. That, I imagine, is what moves our sage sovereign's heart."

"Of course. How could Archbishop Grehmol's words carry anything but the same authority as words from the secular world?"

"Ha, ha, indeed—Your Highness truly has an eye for these things."

"I've long worried that the Chamberlain was the only one whispering counsel near the Emperor's side. I'm glad the Archbishop has earned his trust."

"...The Chamberlain."

Repeating it, Archbishop Grehmol's voice sounded like he was gnawing on tough meat. It was the instant his petty, small-minded rivalry leaked out.

"Hmph. However long he's served His Majesty, the Chamberlain is, in the end, nothing more than an ordinary man steeped in worldly filth. Even today, His Majesty sought my opinion further on the charity auction before deciding how to proceed."

"As it should be. I have no doubt that Archbishop Grehmol will take only the good from theocracy and leave the rest behind."

"Ahem—well, since my standing as archbishop has grown firm enough now, I've been thinking it's time I eased His Majesty's worries somewhat."

"His Majesty's worries?"

"Fewer children have been born lately with the gift for handling mana. It's no trouble now, but at this rate, in ten or twenty years, we'll be looking at real trouble keeping up the knight corps that serves His Majesty."

"Oh, dear."

"I imagine it's the war that's driven the birth rate down. Isn't it religion's role to build a household and set down the nation's foundation? If we reduce the number of convents and return the women to society, the birth rate will rise."

"Ah, of course. How wise of you."

Sasha lowered her eyes. Behind that gaze, sinking as deep as it seemed, lay a plan with no end to its depth.

"Ha, ha—this old body has gone and burdened Her Highness with talk too difficult and complicated. No need to trouble yourself understanding it."

Archbishop Grehmol's eyes, as he looked at Sasha, were full of goodwill—but the kind one gives a flower in a vase.

Sasha smiled back exactly that much, and no more.

Perhaps sensing this, Archbishop Grehmol seemed to want to play the part of the needlessly kindly old man, and offered what he no doubt considered a piece of well-wishing.

"Speaking of which, Her Highness the Silver Bird Princess is well past marrying age now too. I look forward to the day I might officiate the wedding rites between you and Lord Domynick, right here in this very cathedral. You ought to give His Majesty a grandchild soon, shouldn't you?"

"......"

At the insinuating tone, Sasha and Regen's expressions hardened at the same moment.

Sasha tried to respond calmly.

"I have no intention yet of marr—"

"Tch! What kind of improper talk is that, from a woman of marrying age? Bearing and raising children is precisely a woman's happiness."

"I am a princess before I am a woman, so—"

"Hey! That's against doctrine. Talk like that and you'll be punished. Are you prepared to bear the sin that would fall onto the child you'll carry before long?!"

At his shouted rebuke, Regen moved at once.

Ssring—more than half-drawn from its sheath, the blade flashed cold and pale.

Archbishop Grehmol took one look and panicked, backpedaling until his own feet tangled and dropped him flat.

"Sir Regen."

Sasha's voice, calling his name, was sweet enough to melt an ear.

"I'd rather not see blood today. Hold back for me."

"Eek—"

At Sasha's brazenly composed words, the Archbishop tried to rise and staggered again. Trying, in his own way, to salvage the situation, he smiled ingratiatingly and said:

"If—if you're worried about the sin the unborn child would bear, there is a way. Make a donation, and receive absolution for the sin, and..."

"Archbishop."

Sasha glanced toward the ceremonial staff fallen on the floor and held out her hand. Regen kicked it up with the toe of his boot, then presented it to Sasha with both hands, formally.

Sasha did not hand the ornate, extravagant staff back to the Archbishop right away. Holding it hostage, she pressed the words she wanted to say directly into his ear.

"Do you know why His Majesty trusts you, Archbishop?"

"Well, that would be because I am close to the divine—"

"The one closest to the divine is the Saint. And yet His Majesty prefers to keep you near him instead. Have you ever considered why?"

"I suppose... a man is simply more comfortable for him..."

"There are plenty of men both venerable and aged around His Majesty already."

"...Your Highness, what exactly are you trying to say?"

Sasha smiled. Blunt, direct conversation was one of the things she enjoyed.

"The office of archbishop belongs only to a man who serves the goddess in chastity his whole life. His Majesty has worked harder than anyone for the continuation of the imperial line, so he finds a man who remains celibate his entire life quite the curiosity. In other words, to His Majesty, the position of archbishop looks like a kind of living art."

"......"

It was an insult delivered in the gentlest, most measured tone—which was exactly what made it cut. But rather than grow indignant, Archbishop Grehmol broke into a cold sweat.

To the Archbishop, his gaunt shoulders trembling faintly, Sasha personally pressed the staff back into his hands. Gently—as gently as a granddaughter greeting her grandfather—she said:

"Do try not to lose your chastity, Archbishop."

Leaving the ashen-faced Archbishop Grehmol behind, Sasha left the Grand Cathedral together with Regen.

Regen spoke, not bothering to hide the quiet anger in his voice.

"That man has lost his mind."

"His soul will follow soon enough, so there's no need to be angry."

"Aren't you angry, Sasha?"

"I had someone to be angry on my behalf, so I was fine."

Regen felt two things at once—the wish to be angrier still, and, alongside it, his own anger easing at her words just now.

"Your Highness——!"

The moment they stepped out of the main palace, they came face to face with a lady-in-waiting with a short green bob. Hamel.

Sasha calmed her, as if there were no need to hurry.

"If it's news that the Archbishop entered the palace, I already know."

"I'm late. My apologies."

"No—you've come at just the right time."

There were two orders she needed to give.

"It seems the Mad Emperor is preparing something called a charity auction with the Archbishop."

"I'll look into it."

"Once the information's confirmed, we'll dispose of Archbishop Grehmol. I think it’s time to throw out this butcher’s knife now that it’s outlived its usefulness."

He'd been a useful blade for stirring up trouble within the church for some time, but she felt no particular attachment to him.

To Hamel, who waited for precise instructions on how to dispose of him, Sasha spoke. It was a death sentence passed in a place the Archbishop himself would never know of.

"Expose the Archbishop's shame to the world."

Left alone with Regen again once Hamel had gone, he asked the thing he wanted to know right away.

"What is the Archbishop's shame?"

"A wife and children. Three sons."

"...So he broke his vow of chastity."

I told him about the idiot's little love story too.

"He fell in love with a courtesan back when he was still a monk, set her up in a house on the outskirts, and started a family with her. That's when he started embezzling donations, too. The sons they had together are already middle-aged now, and every one of them holds some post or another in the capital. Given how poor their qualifications are, there's no way they climbed that high on their own merit—they must have had plenty of help from House Arondight."

That's the reason he's been pushing me toward marriage, too—to curry favor with Domynick.