Chapter 100 — In which things burn down (3)

Phlox looked down at the unconscious people splayed on the floor like puppets with their strings cut off.

She frowned, then sighed.

Time to clean up this mess.

She found a wash basin and without any hesitation, she splashed it on the ritualistic symbols drawn on the floor, washing them away.

Then quickly gathered scattered ritualistic instruments and props, like bells, fans and flowers to burn them all down later.

Her gaze turned to the fallen priests again, and her frown deepened.

How should she solve it?

Even if rulers of Rubrun didn’t realize the exact purpose of the ritual, they would know that there was something wrong with it. Perhaps they even sensed that it meant to do them harm?

In this situation should Phlox willingly give the offenders in as a sign of goodwill, or should she deny that anything ever happen?

In the first case, it might help to soothe tense relationship between Purplus and Rubrun, at least for a moment, but it would severely undermine Purplus’ position and could create an easily exploitable weakness.

But if she denied anything ever happening, it would be no different from setting fire in front of someone and then denying that she had anything to do with it.

Any semblance of friendliness between Purplus and Rubrun would be gone, all bridges burn down.

As she agonized what to do, she recalled the last instruction the Saint gave her:

— If some of our moths cause a big trouble and anger Esteemed Archmage… Please remind him that I’m very secretive person. But with my compassion as wide as the ocean, if someone asks me very earnestly, I may ended up whispering a few words into their ears.

Though she wasn’t sure what it was about, she was certain that Amara had some kind over leverage over Crimo.

Then what she should do…

“Priest Phlox.”

She jumped, when someone suddenly revealed his presence beside her.

Phlox turned around to see Alexandrit and Seven, still disguised as one of the attendants.

‘I understand Mr. Alexandrit, but to think I didn’t sense Mr. Seven… no, perhaps he isn’t an assassin for nothing.’

Recalling an unpleasant memory of Seven’s assassination attempt on Amara, Phlox grimaced and looked away from Seven, her fully concentrating on Alexandrit.

As if he interpreted her gaze as promoting to speak, he calmly reported:

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“A flash of light safely crossed the sky. The birds are also singing.”

‘His Excellency safely came and went. Archmage’s family should be safe.’

Was what Alexandrit said. With surveillance circles all around them, he couldn’t just say that the Purple Throne’s ruler came to visit for a minute.

Phlox sighed in relief.

“Help me move them. It appears that our Shining Siblings overtaxed themselves in their devotion.”

Alexandrit nodded with understanding as if it was exactly what happened.

Then he glanced back as another presence revealed itself.

“You’re here.”

“Yes. Safe and sound.”

Geod quietly reported and then got to work without saying anything else.

While three men dragged priests out, Phlox examined the room when something caught her eye.

The drawn curtains.

She remembered the lady that she met in the corridors and who insisted on following her.

‘That face surely was…’

She bit her inner cheek and quickly distracted herself with work.

It wasn’t a right time.

*-*-*

Saffra met with her ladies-in-waiting in front of the door to the main ceremonial hall.

“How did it go?”

Their clothes were a bit crumpled, but from their bright faces it didn’t seem like they failed.

As Saffra expected, Apric and Tangeri answer.

“Excellent.”

“Yes, we had a very nice conversation.”

Then the two exchanges glances and smiled sheepishly.

Saffra raised an eyebrow, but didn’t ask and led them inside.

The moment she appeared, Mimosa hastily abandoned a pretense of conversation she had with some of the Purplus’ priests and almost sprinted to her side.

“Are you feeling better now?”

“Yes, I’m doing very well.”

They avoided directly talking about what Saffra was doing, as many eyes and ears followed them, and exchanged information through veiled words.

As Mimosa led Saffra to the table and put a glass of cold lavender lemonade in her hand, she frowned.

“It appears that my subordinates lost sight of you. Their incompetence is most regretful.’

‘They lost the sight of the clone I sent them to follow? Then where that guy went?’

Saffra figured out what Mimosa meant, and her eyebrow twitched, but she composed her face and smiled softly.

“It’s alright. I started to run around in excitement without considering the duties of others. It’s not their fault.”

She stressed that it wasn’t their fault, because she was afraid that Mimosa might really punish them for failing to follow her orders.

Then she looked around.

“I sent Sir Citrie to fetch me some ice. Is he still not here?”

“I didn’t see him since I sent him to you.”

Mimosa confirmed that Citrie wasn’t here yet.

Saffra wasn’t too worried about it though.

‘If my guess is correct, Ver won’t let anything happen to him.’

Still, her gaze which swept through the hall held a taint of disappointment.

‘My miracle isn’t here…’

Just when she turned her regretful eyes away from the Purplus’ envoy.

Clap clap!

A redhaired man clapped, drawing the attention of all the gathered.

“Esteemed Guests, we will soon start coming-of-age ceremony. Please take your seats.”

The people moved.

Mimosa and Orche went to the front, while Saffra decided to take back seats.

It was partially to present she isn’t yet fully involved in the political war, but mostly it was because she wasn’t sure if she would be able to control her expression when the main character of this event appears.

‘Oh, my dear older brother… To think there would be a day when I would be the one to impart ‘things that you must know, now that you’re an adult’…. Ah! Should I call you a younger brother now?’

There were no portraits of Lesser Lord Mage Vern’s current looks, but Mimosa created a portrait of assumed likeness based on Vern’s younger image, to make sure that Saffra wouldn’t make a mistake if they met by chance.

At the time Saffra didn’t have an idea that the Lesser Lord Mage was her brother, but she realized it when their eyes met for that precious second.

While smiling to herself, someone joined her group.

“Oh, Sir Citrie, you’re her—…”

Saffra paused as she looked down at a quite big box in Citrie’s hands.

“Sir Citrie did you bring a bomb?”

“Of course not.”

Citrie quickly denied as he looked around.

He seemed to be checking his surrounding, but also looking for something… Especially among the people of Rubrun.

“If anything, I’m stopping things from exploding here.”

Before Saffra could ask what he meant, the music and change of light announced the beginning of the ceremony.

And when the door opened, Citrie almost dropped the box he was holding.

*~*~*