Chapter 10:
The Villainess Prays
THE STATELY, majestic grand cathedral in Harland’s capital was a popular sightseeing spot. Every minor facet of the cathedral had been crafted by the best artisans, and all of it had been done with respect and reverence for the Capricious God.
A wide cobblestone path wove through the center of its grounds, connecting the many buildings. Elaborate spires jutted toward the sky. An imposing gate sat at the entrance, and a wide staircase led to the cathedral’s seven-meter-tall bronze doors. During the daytime, those doors were thrown open to welcome visitors who came to pray.
The cathedral’s sprawling grounds had other facilities as well, including those specifically for the faithful. The chapel, for example, was open to the public for worship. One had merely to walk in a straight path after entering to find the chapel, past the lines of wooden pews set up in front of a marble altar.
But all other aspects of the cathedral, white as the purest snow and with walls curving and capped off by a dome, paled in comparison to its incredible ceiling and roof. Inside, where the tops of the columns ended, intensely detailed carvings dominated the dome. The entrance was flanked by impressive columns of massive size.
There were twisting tree branches and ivy with drooping fruit—God’s messengers blessing the people with a bountiful harvest. The sculptor had intentionally placed anthropomorphized aspects of nature as well: Someone to represent the wind blowing, someone to represent the waves lapping the shore, and someone to represent a thriving mainland. The sculptures were devoid of color; they were the same pure white as the walls, as if the creator meant to leave further interpretation up to the viewer. The very center of the dome ended in glass connected to an open spire that allowed light to pour in, illuminating every angle of the sculpted ceiling.
Claudia forgot to breathe as she drank in the cathedral’s timeless artistry. This happened every time she visited; she was forever awed by its magnificence.
Letting out a long sigh, she counted down the last few minutes until her appointment. She was supposed to meet her guide. Wearing the plain garments provided for sisters of the church reminded her of her princess training. The present Virgil had gifted her was carefully tucked into her pocket, like a good-luck charm.
There weren’t many visitors today. That was partly because it was noon on a weekday, but Claudia suspected it had more to do with all the knights present. The church had deployed a vast number for her safety. Unlike the royal knights with their heavy armor, these knights wore chain mail beneath their church garb. Instead of swords, they wielded wooden staves as tall as grown men. Perhaps what stood out the most were their acorn-shaped helmets.
Since Claudia had donned a church uniform, she was there as an individual rather than a duke’s daughter or the crown prince’s betrothed. As such, she was to be regarded as an equal by the rest of the clergy—but sometimes, reality wasn’t always so clear-cut. The church realized as much.
Her gaze shifted toward the chapel. The light from the dome reflected off the walls, bathing the area in faint blue light.
I hope I’ll learn something from this experience, Claudia thought. She craved the wisdom to help the poor and the refugees. She wished to soak up any new lessons like a sponge and then apply that knowledge—but one could only absorb what they were able to comprehend. Claudia had two lifetimes’ worth of experience. While that was much more than most, it was no reason to let herself get conceited.
If only life experience counted for ten times the wisdom. But no, sadly. All I have is life experience.
One built up experience over time. Her situation was exceptional, which had given her a broader perspective than most in her position. Even so, a gifted mind would’ve gotten there without needing all those hard-learned lessons.
Well, I mustn’t forget how lucky I am and how much power that affords me.
She was blessed to have been born a duke’s daughter, to have all these opportunities to learn. Most people didn’t have her resources. Thus, it was her duty to figure out how to help others using those resources. And in the process, she couldn’t forget her roots: where her heart lay, what she wanted to accomplish. As long as she earnestly pursued the greater good, it would pay off in the end.
That said, it was her own desire to help people. Expecting others to praise or acknowledge her for it was selfish. There was no room for aggrandizing if she wanted to stay objective.
As Ruki said, too many people lost sight of themselves. That was why he’d challenged other aristocrats to try living in the slums before they talked, to stop lying to themselves and learn firsthand what the people really needed. If she followed his advice and put her best foot forward, then even if she came to the wrong conclusion, he wouldn’t hold it against her. The residents of the slums had only shown such skepticism and resentment toward the government’s decisions because they were made by people far removed from their concerns.
Regardless, I must be careful not to overlook anything.
Claudia was just as susceptible to making armchair analyses as any other aristocrat. Thus, she requested periodic reports and still made time to meet with Bezel and Ruki in person to avoid such mistakes.
“I’m being far too greedy, aren’t I?” she mumbled under her breath, shaking her head.
Claudia decided to put her ruminations to bed. As she lifted her head, she laid eyes on the guide who would assist her through her purification. Her face broke into a smile at the sight of the familiar figure.
“Have I kept you waiting long?”
“No,” she said. “I arrived early to have a look around.”
The man was all round edges, his face reminiscent of a koala’s and his eyes filled with gentle affection. The very air around the elderly clergyman was warm and welcoming. Carlo was the same priest in charge of the monastery where she’d spent part of her princess training, experiencing the life of a nun for a few weeks.
“Have you grown accustomed to your new post, Father?” asked Claudia.
“I have indeed, thank you. Fortunately, I had connections there already, and some members of our monastery were moved there as well. I was already familiar with everyone.”
The church had decided to demolish the dilapidated castle, which had housed the monastery under Carlo’s care for decades, and its services had been shut down in advance. Carlo and the other faithful—all of whom had graciously looked after Claudia and Helen during their short stay—had since been transferred to a different monastery. She was glad to hear they were doing well, especially since the old castle had been plagued with ghost stories.
“I’ll try to find time to visit everyone,” said Claudia.
“Oh, that would be most welcome. They’ll be delighted to see you.”
While her stay had only been two weeks long, she had learned much in that time. Her princess training had taught her the importance of other people’s perspectives.
“Apologies for the last-minute change, but I’ll be serving as your guide today in place of the cardinal,” said Carlo.
“I don’t mind one bit. But I must ask, what do you mean by ‘in place of the cardinal’?”
“Normally, Cardinal Gique would be the one serving as your escort, but he was summoned for an urgent matter and requested that I serve on his behalf.”
Claudia tilted her head. What urgent business could convince a cardinal to abandon the crown prince’s betrothed? Did something unforeseen happen within the church? I’m not offended, of course—this is a welcome opportunity to spend time with Father Carlo. Still, I can’t help wondering.
As Elizabeth had assured her, Carlo was a learned man.
“I’m pleased to have the chance to learn from you again, Father.”
“The pleasure is all mine.”
Once they had finished their pleasantries, Carlo paused to look over his shoulder. Someone, presumably a nun, stood there waiting silently. She had shrunk in on herself. It wasn’t until Carlo’s eyes met hers that she straightened up and strode forward. Claudia was astonished when she recognized the woman’s face.
“Lady Lestea?!”
“It’s been far too long, Lady Claudia. I can’t begin to express how pleased I am to have been selected to serve as your fellow A Priori.”
Unlike most aristocratic ladies, Lestea kept her hair cropped to chin length. Claudia also would’ve recognized those long, slender limbs and that handsome, charming smile anywhere. How had she failed to notice Lestea until now?
Her clothes, Claudia realized. I’ve never seen her in a dress before.
Technically, it was a robe—the same kind Claudia herself was wearing—but it was markedly different from the ones men wore. In particular, the women’s clothes had a cinched waist and loose, flowing sleeves. Lestea had the same silhouette as Claudia for a change.
Lestea always wore men’s attire, even in her homeland of Bari. It was why all the other ladies regarded her as a handsome woman. Claudia hadn’t recognized her at first because she’d never for the life of her pictured Lestea in women’s attire.
Amazing how preconceptions can totally blind you.
She was sure Lestea had purposefully tried to appear unremarkable to surprise Claudia, but still.