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Chapter 5
[I am listening.]
Lahik answered absentmindedly as he tried to calm himself.
If he did not permit it, she could never leave this place.
If he did not teach her, no one would ever tell her the language or writing of this world.
The fragility of a creature raised entirely within the palm of his hand brought him an unexpected sense of satisfaction.
He was undeniably aroused.
The tension tightening at his center made his lower body feel heavy, filling him with a strangely pleasant torment.
[Wait.]
Finishing the words as though speaking to himself, Lahik gently stroked Legria’s reddish hair.
A touch so insignificant.
Yet even that was enough to soothe the restless desire rising within him.
The result of a thousand days of prayer and effort by the Holy Imperial Court’s summoning ritual.
All living things in the world would eventually bow their heads at the feet beneath which he concealed his claws.
And she will make me perfect.
Recalling the kiss from the first day, Lahik’s lips twisted into a satisfied smile.
Her value was already soaring beyond measure.
To the point that he could no longer imagine how much higher it would rise.
She had been prepared for one purpose alone.
For him.
* * *
The reception room was so extravagant that it bordered on discordant.
A gleaming gold table clock.
A table carved from a three-hundred-year-old oak tree.
Every object seemed determined to flaunt its superiority without the slightest concern for harmony.
Everything visible was new.
Even the mounted beast heads decorating the walls.
There was none of the dignity that came from generations of inheritance.
They were merely expensive.
Vulgarly expensive.
Then again, the owner of the room wasn’t much different from the furnishings.
Perhaps they suited one another perfectly.
True nobility was something one possessed from birth.
Everyone envied it.
Everyone desired it.
Yet because they could not obtain it, they wrapped themselves in luxuries like these, pretending it increased their worth.
With those thoughts in mind, Lahik slowly examined the enormous man seated before him.
Layers of fat folded beneath his chin.
A swollen belly spilling over itself.
There wasn’t a single part of him that wasn’t unpleasant to look at.
“We shall take excellent care of Lady Legria. By the time she goes to the Imperial Palace, she will possess elegance worthy of the position. In truth, she already carries herself with remarkable dignity!”
The Archbishop clasped his hands together and put on an embarrassingly sycophantic display.
The flattery was laughable.
Yet today, Lahik chose to indulge it.
A considerable amount of time had passed since the day they began the summoning prayers that called forth a Holy One.
Having survived the threat of execution should the ritual fail, the Archbishop had every reason to be pleased.
Lahik let out a short laugh.
“Indeed. She is the eldest daughter of that Roermel family. A woman with an exceptionally dignified past.”
“Ahaha… w-well, the soul within her is someone else now.”
The Archbishop wiped sweat from his forehead.
The sarcasm in Lahik’s voice was impossible to miss.
Then again, the Archbishop had probably been horrified when the House of Roermel had been chosen.
A miracle.
No one had expected the Holy One descending in this generation to choose Beatrice Roermel.
Even the world’s greatest gambler would never have wagered on such an outcome.
There was one undeniable truth.
A Holy One always descended into the body of the vessel most compatible with them.
“The Mad Dog of High Society.”
“The Personality Ruined Beyond Repair.”
“The Poison Weed of the Summer Enclosure.”
“The Woman Who Would Survive Even Pesticide.”
The Archbishop visibly flinched each time Lahik listed another nickname.
“The nightmare of the entire Empire.”
“Beatrice Roermel.”
“And the future Crown Princess resembles her.”
“Eek!”
“Oh, that reminds me, Archbishop. Is it true Lady Beatrice once tried to bite your backside?”
Tap.
Tap.
Lahik drummed his fingers impatiently against the table while smiling casually.
The Archbishop now looked like a lump of meat thoroughly soaked in cold sweat.
“I ordered an investigation into Beatrice Roermel’s nicknames.”
“This single sheet of paper was the result.”
Not expecting an answer, Lahik shifted his attention to the document.
It contained a condensed list of thousands of misdeeds Beatrice had committed before voluntarily becoming a vessel.
The most eye-catching section was naturally the final entry.
- Blinded one eye of her younger brother, Dietrich Roermel, by stabbing it with a shard of glass.
- Reason: Unknown.
- Following this incident, she received severe punishment from her family and voluntarily applied to become a vessel.
The Duke of Roermel had undoubtedly expected to get his daughter back afterward.
She had originally been intended to marry the son of the neutral House of Sevireik.
But circumstances had changed.
The family chosen to produce the next Crown Princess had not yet been publicly announced.
However, after the Holy Spring Ceremony, it would have to be revealed to the entire House of Nobles.
The uproar would be magnificent.
Everyone would panic, fearing that the future Crown Princess might be as vicious as the infamous mad dog herself.
Fools.
A poisonous weed can become a medicinal herb if used correctly.
It all depended on perspective.
Besides, as the Archbishop had said, there was a peculiar dignity to Legria, distinct from Beatrice.
Most Holy Ones reacted similarly once they understood their situation.
They cried endlessly.
Or raged.
Or denied reality altogether, shutting out both sight and sound.
The third type was the most troublesome.
Legria was different.
She calmly assessed her circumstances.
She neither fled nor avoided reality.
She simply accepted it.
As though she had learned resignation far too early in life.
Lahik personally enjoyed crushing fierce resistance.
Her obedience was somewhat disappointing in that regard.
Yet it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
The imperial wedding was approaching.
Countless citizens wished to receive blessings from a Holy One descended from the Sacred Realm.
Therefore Legria had to become flawless.
The time remaining was six months.
Within that period, she had to shed the appearance of a beast incapable of speaking and be transformed into a noble Crown Princess.
Though perhaps she isn’t incapable of speaking.
Lahik recalled her confidently demanding things from him through elaborate gestures.
She seemed frustrated because she thought he couldn’t understand her.
But the sight of her waving her thin arms around was so adorable that he felt even less inclined to teach her.
As Crown Prince of the Great Veligream Empire, Lahik had mastered the three mandatory imperial languages.
In addition, he spoke four sacred languages fluently.
Which meant he understood every word Legria said.
Every single one.
That included the times she muttered things like:
“Tongue fetish bastard.”
Or:
“Crazy lunatic.”
The fact that he found himself smiling despite being insulted was probably proof that he truly was insane.
Fortunately, he wasn’t offended.
These days, Legria was the most entertaining thing in his life.
“Ah, yes! Has the Mormala powder been effective?”
“Who knows.”
“It worked on the test subjects, but this is the first time we’ve used it on someone of such importance. I’m curious whether we can standardize its use for future Holy Ones of noble rank who descend unexpectedly…”
The Archbishop’s eyes gleamed greedily as he desperately searched for a safer topic.
Mormala powder.
According to recent research regarding Holy Ones, consuming food mixed with the powder—or inhaling its scent—greatly reduced stress caused by environmental changes and lowered bodily rejection symptoms.
But its most important effect was something else entirely.
It reduced wariness toward the people of this world.
Perhaps Legria’s impossible calmness was simply the result of Mormala powder.
After all, the room where the vessel had been kept was constantly saturated with expensive Mormala fragrance.
Maybe the effects were finally showing.
Still, Lahik disliked the Archbishop’s attempt to flaunt the Holy Imperial Court’s efforts and subtly demand compensation.
When Lahik remained silent, wearing only a crooked smile, the Archbishop quickly dabbed away sweat and changed the subject.
“Then, Your Highness… after the Holy Spring Ceremony, what are your plans?”
“Who knows. What should I do?”
“It would be a tremendous honor if Your Highness remained here for a longer period.”
“It seems you’re not eager to have your mouth torn apart. Your flattery has become excessive.”
The Archbishop’s oily nose twitched.
Naturally, he didn’t dare offer a rebellious reply.
Had he possessed that much courage, he would never have been sitting there in the first place.
“The Holy Imperial Court serves as the residence of all Holy Knights. Please remember that it is a place of rest for Your Highness, just as much as the Imperial Palace.”
“Focus on preparing the Holy Spring Ceremony.”
Ignoring the oily compliments entirely, Lahik left his untouched teacup cooling on the table and turned his thoughts elsewhere.
If Legria possesses the same spirit as Beatrice…
Then a child born between us might one day conquer the continent.
