SALP Chapter 31

Lanthe followed the high priest's guidance through the sun-drenched corridor, its warmth seeping into her shoulders. Perspectives unseen during her entry through the outer passage now revealed themselves. The corridor—restricted to temple personnel—drew the eye with its beautiful murals and ceiling designs, each surface speaking of wealth carefully deployed.

"The outer passage was rather cluttered, wasn't it? We're addressing that as well. I should have had you brought through this route when you arrived, but a newly assigned priest took the 'temple personnel only' rule rather literally and guided you and Sir Warner, both non-believers, through the outer path. Such confusion won't happen again."

The high priest apologized with visible embarrassment over his subordinate's clumsy hospitality.

Lanthe, uncertain of the boundaries defining 'temple personnel,' had felt no offense at being directed through the outer passage. She smiled lightly and dismissed it.

"It's fine. The priest was simply following protocol. But I do appreciate your offer of convenience."

At the corridor's end stood a room cluttered with miscellaneous items.

"It seems a meeting was being held here."

Lanthe made the observation absently. Among the luxury goods—silks in various colors, small furniture pieces, silver tableware—golden statues caught her attention with excessive insistence.

"Ah... the administrative priest must have had some purchases to make. How embarrassing."

She felt no envy.

It all seemed to belong to another world entirely. A sensation that failed to touch her at all.

She couldn't help the pang of sympathy that arose when comparing the magnificent, imposing Batiya Temple to the drafty old Hestan Church, but that was all. Besides, if Hestan's chief deity existed, he would hardly rejoice in the temple building being adorned with funds that could have been distributed to impoverished believers.

"A large temple naturally requires many items."

Lanthe's gaze traveled across the golden idols with complicated thoughts when she stopped at one familiar sculpture.

"Is that also... something you're purchasing here?"

An angel.

The pure white statue's curling hair and pair of enormous wings.

Unmistakably Hestan's angel. A sculpture nearly identical to the angel illustration she'd seen in the book Raphlang.

"Ah. You mean the Northern Oden angel statue. It arrived mixed among sculptures imported from the continent of Valon, so I set it out for viewing, but surely Batiya Temple wouldn't install an idol of a foreign god's apostle. Ha ha."

The angel had been carved from spotlessly white marble. It appeared small enough—about a span and a half measured by Lanthe's hand.

It was extraordinarily beautiful. The two wings reaching to its feet were folded neatly behind its back, and both palms were opened and held at chest height facing downward—a posture that recalled Father Conor's stance during healing prayers.

"...How much does that cost?"

She wouldn't have dared ask about a large idol.

"Oh, you like it? For an unidentified angel statue, the atmosphere is quite lovely and the craftsmanship excellent, isn't it? Yet none of the Penmark customers showed any interest. So I'm thinking of clearing it at a reasonable price..."

The guild head paused in consideration before speaking.

"Let's make it a clean 1 krone. Considering the quality and rarity, you could consider this a windfall..."

"5 della."

Warner suddenly spoke.

"Wouldn't this be your first transaction with Miss Lanthe? I don't know whether you admire Emperor Yebel, guild head, but if you asked for 5 bon for that sculpture, even Emperor Yebel would click his tongue, so how about 5 della?"

Lanthe was more startled by his words.

Five della!

An absurdly low amount compared to the already-reduced sum the guild head had proposed. Even rough calculation showed it was only about half of half of 1 krone.

"Hmm. You mean the 'first transaction at 5 bon'?"

The guild head stroked his beard with a troubled expression.

Why was Sir Warner making such an unreasonable demand, so unlike him?

At a glance, the sculpture's high quality made that price utterly inappropriate. It might barely cover the cost of the marble used as material.

And yet.

"Excellent! Then will you make the transaction, miss?"

The guild head finished his deliberation in an instant and spoke with a willing smile.

"You must remember our Roberia Guild. Ha ha."

And with that, the angel statue came into Lanthe's possession.

Can I actually buy this? Me, with only 5 della to my entire name?

Lanthe stared at the angel statue that had become hers, mouth slightly open.

The image materialized vividly before her eyes—an angel flying from time's distant shore, folding its enormous wings, perching atop high fortress walls to gaze down upon Raphlang Kingdom's blue lands. She nearly embarrassed herself by reddening with emotion.

"Thank you, guild head."

"Oh no, it's my honor to make such a meaningful transaction with you, miss."

"Since this is a personal transaction, I'll pay separately now."

Warner immediately produced a leather pouch and held out a gold coin marked "krone." Then he offered her a faint smile.

"You can gather the change later and repay me, miss."

"Thank you, Sir Warner..."

"Well! So our Hermea's Knight Commander is the charmer who captivates young ladies! Now I understand it deeply! That you're handsome and magnificently built—well, all of Hermea's knights are like that, so I've grown accustomed and accepted it. But to be this considerate as well! Kha-ha-ha!"

The guild head praised the Knight Commander's thoughtfulness with noisy enthusiasm while handing over the change. He seemed exceedingly pleased despite selling the item at a loss.

"I won't forget the Roberia Guild, guild head."

Lanthe felt happy yet privately apologetic.

She lacked any ability to repay the guild head—who had trusted her status enough to accept a loss selling the angel statue—with continued business.

'If they don't discover I'm not a precious 'miss' but someone called a 'captive,' I'll count myself fortunate...'

"Thank you so much, Sir Warner. I really wanted it."

Cradling the angel statue preciously as they returned to the castle, she expressed her gratitude to Warner again.

"Don't mention it."

When had Warner's blunt manner of speaking begun to reach her with such a different feeling?

Among the Penmarkians she'd considered cruel and violent, there were kind people—even among those called knights.

Of course, they treated her this way because they viewed her as the lord's acquaintance, but she didn't want to deny that their kindness allowed her to momentarily forget her dark future.

'At least they don't try to deceive with false pretenses like Fiarelle or Derek. Not Warner, not Rix...'

"But it seemed to be some meaningful transaction method. The guild head mentioned the first transaction at 5 bon."

Lanthe shook off heavy thoughts and smiled.

"All Penmarkians love Emperor Yebel."

Warner nodded and continued in a quiet voice.

"Emperor Yebel was born into a wealthy royal family. Before becoming emperor, he styled himself a free knight and enjoyed a wandering life with no attendants, traveling alone. Whenever he met merchants, he would buy useful items and then resell them to poor people, emptying his purse. But he was famous for always selling things for 5 bon."

"Five bon..."

"Enough for a simple meal at a tavern."

Wow. Now I know currency values too. Just a tiny fraction, but still.

Come to think of it, 5 della was an incredibly good amount for an errand!

"Hmm. So Penmark did have a good emperor or two."

It was a poor-quality joke disparaging the other party's people, but Warner nodded deeply with a slight smile as though he agreed.

"Yes. With such a large population, it would be proper to have at least one or two sage kings, wouldn't it?"

Lanthe's face flushed at his generous smile, which seemed to understand the hatred for Penmark she'd harbored in her heart.

"Look! The sun came out, Sir Warner."

She turned her gaze toward the distant sky and squinted.

"It's cleared."

"The laundry will dry well—it's Nina's favorite weather."

Like shaking mud from dirtied shoes before walking on grass, she crossed the castle garden with lighter steps.

In the distance, the glass walls enclosing the indoor terrace came into view. So did the silhouette of a man resting inside.

Sunlight reflected off the glass walls prevented certainty about the man's expression beyond, but she thought he was looking at her and frowning.

Hmph. She stuck out her tongue slightly in response and hopped from stone to stone toward the main building's entrance.

Though an intense gaze seemed to pierce through the glass wall and follow her, making the back of her head prickle, the gift she'd acquired—half through her own effort and half through another's kindness—improved her mood enough that she felt like humming.

"What's that?"

Vigo blocked her path with a cold expression, asking the question. He'd deliberately come out to the central lobby.

The corridor he blocked was wide enough for three people to walk abreast, but leaning against one wall with arms crossed, he looked like a gatekeeper who would allow no one to pass without his permission.

"I bought it."

She answered primly while hugging the angel statue tightly.

He didn't interrogate her with 'What money do you have?'

Instead, he slid his gaze from her to stare fixedly at Warner.

Why does he always act like this toward his subordinates?

"What's the problem? Sir Warner negotiated so I could buy it for 5 della and lent me money so I could buy what I wanted. More importantly, have you prepared my errand payment?"

Even after hearing Lanthe's explanation, Vigo's cold gaze at Warner remained unchanged.

It even took on the quality of accusation—'You...'

"Hurry and give me my money. The errand payment."

She urged him, thrusting her palm right up to his face.

"You're not planning to say something else, are you? Give me the money."

Only then did he smoothly tilt his head at an angle, looking down at her face.

The gaze—looking at her through the tip of his nose with only lowered eyes rather than properly bowing his head, as if highlighting his excellent physique—was supremely irritating.

"I keep my promises."

He withdrew something from inside his coat.

A coin purse. Made in the common rectangular shape with a drawstring at the opening, but the lustrous ivory-colored silk and purplish-gray string were pretty.

"Here."

The coin purse, clean as new, settled onto her palm.

Lanthe felt oddly apologetic again. She'd once seen Fiarelle produce such a purse. She would carry small change in it and hand it out to maids who'd performed well.

"Check and see..."

Lanthe carefully opened it to avoid soiling the purse and removed what was inside.