TTPB 17

Chapter 17: I’ll Come Find You Soon

A tea party was held under the pretense of celebrating the Third Princess’s coming-of-age ceremony. The noblewomen engaged in casual conversation about various teas and spices imported from across the continent. Rose, still in the process of learning under the head maid, was unfamiliar with such topics. Aracne took full advantage of this, deliberately excluding her from the conversation while leading it herself.

‘There are too many eyes watching. I can’t give her a taste of her own medicine like last time.’

She couldn’t afford to raise her voice or confront her directly in front of the other ladies.

“Are you all right?”

Noticing how Rose struggled to join in, one of the younger ladies asked her kindly. The girl had brown hair braided into twin plaits.

“I didn’t sleep well last night, so I’m feeling a little tired. Thank you for your concern, Lady Benoit.”

“Oh dear. I’ve been waking up a lot at night too—it’s been so warm lately.”

The sympathetic voice came from Elar de Benoit, the youngest daughter of the Ducal House of Benoit and the youngest girl at today’s gathering. Her delicate features and bright amber eyes gave her a sweet, innocent charm. True to her House’s allegiance to the Emperor, she seemed friendly toward Rose. As Rose conversed with her, she quickly began to weigh her options.

‘The Benoits support Tanathis, but having a backup isn’t a bad idea.’

Though she knew little about tea, Rose was skilled in steering conversations by focusing on her companion’s interests.

“Does the tea suit your taste?”

“Yes! This is my favorite fruit blend.”

“The refreshing lime aroma feels like it clears the mind.”

“Right? It’s quite sweet, so opinions differ, but I love it.”

As expected, the bait Rose dangled was eagerly taken, and Lady Elar became quite talkative.

“They say this blend is imported from the Eastern Continent. Unlike the more bitter teas we cultivate here in the Empire, theirs vary from sweet to tangy.”

“Oh my, such variety in tea fragrance must be rare. That’s impressive.”

“It is! A tea that tastes this pleasant even when served lightly brewed has great market potential. Since tea time is popular in the Empire, demand should be high.”

A light flush spread across Elar’s cheeks as she rambled on. But soon, other ladies began to interject with scolding tones.

“Lady Benoit, your comments are rather… unbecoming. You speak like a merchant.”

“Our concern should be savoring the flavor and aroma of the tea—not discussing sales.”

Elar scratched her head, flustered.

“Haha, I just meant that the uniqueness of this tea makes it more interesting, that’s all.”

‘Hm, something feels off here.’

The cold glances the ladies gave Elar made it clear to Rose what had happened. Among noblewomen, speaking proudly of money-making was seen as crass. Hoping to de-escalate things, Rose stepped in.

“Lady Benoit certainly offers a fresh perspective. I agree. Isn’t this fruit tea much tastier than those bitter blends?”

“Well… I suppose so.”

Elar shot Rose a grateful look.

“By the way, I heard the Tebeare Holy Knights will be arriving as part of the delegation?”

The mention of the visiting knights sent ripples of excitement through the group.

“They’ve already passed the capital’s main gates!”

“I heard all the Holy Knights from the Vatican shine with divine radiance. There’s even a rumor they wear golden armor!”

“And apparently, their looks are heavenly.”

“Still, they won’t outshine the dignity of the Imperial family.”

Aracne sniffed dismissively. To her, the Calon Empire was the most glorious nation in the world.

“But why are the Holy Knights visiting?” Elar asked with wide, curious eyes.

“It must be your first time attending a royal coming-of-age ceremony, Lady Benoit. The Pope himself officiates the sacred rite. The Holy Knights escort him for that purpose,” said Xavier de Roshe, the eldest daughter of House Roshe.

Elar blushed, embarrassed to be corrected by the daughter of the Empire’s other great ducal house—one famously hostile to her own. Though the two houses propped up the Empire together, they were long-standing rivals.

Rose’s gaze shifted to Xavier, calmly sipping her tea. The girl had hair of dark violet, typical of her family, and lips like blood-red wine.

“Princess Aracne, you’ve seen the Holy Knights before, haven’t you? What were the ones who worship the divine like?”

“Nothing special.”

The ladies leaned in, eager to hear about the ceremony from the Second Princess, who had completed her own a few years ago.

“The only thing worth noting was the Pope’s baculus.”

“The baculus?”

A ceremonial staff used by bishops and higher clergy, the baculus symbolized authority and always appeared during important rituals.

“They say it was carved from the World Tree Yggdrasil. I remember because it was amusing—those who serve the divine using a tree tied to spirits.”

“Oh my, I suppose even they recognize the nobility of the fae.”

“If it caught Your Highness’s eye, it must be extraordinary.”

Aracne glanced at the young Lady Benoit, who had entered society early.

“Even though it looked like it had fallen from the true tree long ago, it still shone. So it must be somewhat useful.”

Elar wasn’t so naive as to miss the implication. Aracne was comparing the staff to her second brother, Dian de Benoit.

“But still. It’s merely a branch, not the true World Tree.”

“A branch from a sacred tree retains its essence even when separated. Its roots may be distant, but its nature doesn’t vanish,” Elar replied, defending her brother.

“Not quite. Spirit trees are delicate—they fall into corruption so easily.”

“……”

Aracne couldn’t stand Dian de Benoit, Tanathis’s aide. That impudent servant always had the gall to look at her with indifference. His sister was no different—so unaware of her place. Seeing Elar fall silent gave Aracne deep satisfaction. Now, she set her sights on a new target.

“Speaking of the ceremony… Rose, you haven’t forgotten, have you?”

“Forgot what?”

“The noble power you’re supposed to display during the sacred rite.”

She was mocking the fact that Rose had yet to manifest her fairy’s blessing.

“When it was my turn, a brilliant light radiated from me. It’d be disgraceful if a royal were to be humiliated during the rite. Wouldn’t you agree, Lady Roshe?”

Aracne slyly tried to rope the Roshe family into backing her. Most noble houses on that side were strong proponents of fairy worship. They had little tolerance for royals lacking in that area. For Rose, who had shown not even a speck of such power, this was an uphill battle.

“The Third Princess has yet to discover true beauty,” Xavier said, her voice dry.

It wasn’t even contempt—it was utter indifference. Rose wasn’t even considered worthy of the conversation.

‘So I’m not even worth paying attention to.’

Rose clenched her jaw.

“There’s no need to worry. I’m preparing just fine.”

“That’s not really something you can prepare for, is it? You have to be chosen by the fae.”

Believing she had thoroughly deflated Rose, Aracne puffed up even more. She launched into a grand tale about her own ceremony and the noble blessing she had received. Rose bit her lip and took a deep breath.

‘Fine. Let’s see if you’re still so smug after mine.’

* * *

Late that afternoon, the Tebeare delegation finally arrived. The Emperor personally greeted them, and a sea of royals and palace knights flooded out to welcome the Pope.

How long had they been standing under the sweltering sun? Tempers were beginning to fray.

Golden flags bearing the emblem of Tebeare now fluttered from the flagpoles, replacing the Empire’s blue standard. It was an excessive show of deference, almost nauseating to watch.

‘Changing even the national flags? They’re really trying to impress the Vatican.’

The Imperial family was under heavy political pressure from Tebeare. The current Emperor Euclid had needed their support to ascend the throne—an unavoidable decision, as he had less backing than the former crown prince. But it had come at a cost. Tebeare had become a thorn in the Empire’s side.

Since then, the Pope’s influence had only grown. The ceremonial process for royal rites had doubled in length, and now even the royals had to come out personally to greet him. In the distance, a flag bearing a cross flapped in the wind. The golden embroidery reflected sunlight so intensely it hurt the eyes.

Holy Knights in ornate uniforms led white horses toward the gates. In the center rode a lavish carriage—undoubtedly the Pope’s.

‘Is that a walking treasure chest or what?’

As the golden legion crossed the drawbridge, the Emperor spoke.

“Welcome. We greet the envoys of the divine.”

A man who appeared to be the Knight Commander of the Holy Order stepped forward and bowed.

“Your generous reception is overwhelming.”

“Not at all. I thank you for sending word in advance. You must be weary from the journey. Please, come in.”

Pope Urbano slowly heaved his rotund body from the carriage. He did not even bother to bow. Rose frowned.

‘Greedy bastard.’

Despite being the so-called representative of the divine, the Pope’s eyes brimmed with worldly hunger. The prejudice she had formed during the Revan War only deepened. Then a whisper tickled her ear.

“We meet again, don’t we?”

Startled, she turned—and saw the mischievous grin of a man she had met the night before.

“You!”

He winked, revealing a playful dimple. His white Holy Knight uniform and luxurious gold cloak matched perfectly with his blonde hair. Unlike before, he was neatly dressed—his vibe now less like a stray cat and more like a purebred fox.

“You’re with the Holy Knights?”

“Surprised?”

“I didn’t think you were a knight.”

There was something about him—an irrepressible freedom—that didn’t fit the mold of a knight. Behind her, Countess Verdié watched the unfamiliar man warily, puzzled by Rose’s casual exchange with him. The man, sensing the attention, gave only a short greeting before making a mocking gesture toward the Pope’s back.

“I’ve got business to handle for now.”

“Wait! What’s your name?”

She called out before he could leave. He turned, eyes wide for a second, then softened into a smile. In a single step, he reached her, grasped her hand, and—before the head maid could stop him—pressed a light kiss to the back of her hand.

“Heria Deon. I’ll come find you soon, Princess.”