The great Kingdom of Herzeth—also known as the Kingdom of the Sun—was characterized by strict class division. At the bottom of the hierarchy were the poor, abandoned by the system, lacking family registers and devoid of rights. Above them were common citizens, and higher still lay the nobility. Reigning at the very pinnacle of this society was the royal family, whose palace oversaw the entire capital from its elevated position.
Considered a sacred domain, the royal palace was accessible to only a select few. On its eastern side stood a white spire, towering so tall it seemed to challenge the heavens themselves. It was not widely known that the spire’s interior housed luxurious living spaces, including a glass-domed observation deck, a dining room, and a bedroom. Even less known was the fact that the entire tower had been built for a single person.
Within the tower, in a spacious bath filled with hot water drawn from underground, dotted with seasonal flower petals of various colors, sat a lone girl. A goddess, a heavenly maiden—those who laid eyes on her for the first time would likely have no choice but to describe her otherworldly beauty in such lofty terms.
Her pale pink hair, fanned out across the surface of the water, was so lovely it put the floating flowers to shame, each strand shimmering like spun silk. Her skin, pure and white like freshly fallen snow on a cold winter day, was flawless. In contrast, her eyes were the color of a stark, elegant blush rose, like a blooming flower in spring.
Winter and spring, coldness and warmth—she embodied a mysterious allure that even a master’s brush couldn’t hope to capture.
Amid the rising steam, the extraordinary beauty let slip a single word from her delicate lips. “Boring...”
Gazing at the cloudless blue sky through a small window, the girl pushed to her feet, water splashing around her.
“I’m so bored. I’ve had it with this life.” She brought her hands to her head and groaned. “Why does a maiden my age have to spend every day praying for the kingdom’s protection and prosperity?! Flowers wilt quickly! Does no one realize this?!”
“Lady Artemisia,” called out a maid waiting outside the bath. “Is something the matter?”
“No, nothing,” the girl replied, her voice ringing as clear as a chime in the breeze. “I was just talking to a little bird flying in the sky.”
“Indeed? Ah, it’s nearly time for your prayers...”
“Yes, I’m aware.”
Artemisia, the girl, left the bath and walked to the dressing room with a composed expression. The maid approached reverently, holding a change of clothes with both hands as if making a sacred offering.
The beautiful Artemisia glanced at the maid. “I’ve been wondering...do you always change out the bathwater?”
“Y-Yes, of course! Clean, sanctified water is used for each bathing.”
“It seems like a waste to throw all of it out after a single use. Why don’t you wash up too?”
“I-It would be improper for someone like me to soak in your bathwater, Lady Artemisia.”
“Hmm. What if I order you to?”
“W-Well, I...”
“Honestly, you smell of sweat today. If you’re going to attend to me, I’d appreciate it if you cleaned yourself properly.”
“Huh...?!”
The maid hastily brought her arm to her nose and gave it a sniff, then turned bright red and bowed her head low. “M-My deepest apologies! A-Allow me to escort you to the altar, and then I’ll—”
“How many thousands of times do you think I’ve performed this ritual? I don’t need an escort every single time. I know the way. I’ll go myself.”
“Th-That wouldn’t be—”
“Just get in the water already. Go on, strip!”
“What? Now?”
“Strip, I said! Get in the bath. Right now. In you go!”
“Y-Y-Yes, my lady!”
The maid quickly undressed, and Artemisia half forcefully pushed her into the bath before waving with a small hand, smiling angelically.
“Now, then. Enjoy your soak.”
✦ ✦ ✦
An hour later, a noble-looking lady with her face hidden behind a purple mesh veil arrived at the spire’s first floor.
“I wish to speak to Lady Artemisia.”
“Welcome, Lady Minerva,” said a maid with a polite bow. “Lady Artemisia is currently praying.”
“Ah, it’s that time, isn’t it?” Lady Minerva said, checking the watch on her wrist. “I’ll wait, then.”
The noblewoman stepped into the tower and took the magical elevator to the floor where the altar was located. Before her was a door adorned with an elegant sculpture of a goddess. The altar itself lay beyond, but not wanting to disturb the prayer session, Lady Minerva decided to wait in the small hall in front of the door. She approached a circular window set into the wall and looked out at the sprawling royal capital below: the quiet nobles’ district with its elegant residences, the citizens’ district with its homes and shops...
On the opposite side from the main gate were extensive slums, located in an area known as the capital’s underbelly, where the lowest-class citizens—the poor—lived. This window, however, had been strategically placed so that the slums couldn’t be seen from here.
The city’s buildings, its people, their lives, all appeared as nothing more than dots from this height. The spire was a sanctum, a realm of the celestial cut off from the world below.
How strange, Lady Minerva thought as she glanced at her watch, tilting her head.
She’d been waiting for some time now, and the prayer session should certainly have already ended. Yet there was no sign of the person she’d come to visit emerging from the altar room. Could Artemisia be so absorbed in prayer that she’d lost track of time?
Lady Minerva approached the door to the altar room and gently tapped the surface with her knuckles. “Lady Artemisia? I beg your pardon for interrupting your prayers. I’m Isabelle Minerva, from one of the seven great noble houses. I’d like to speak with you.”
She waited for a few moments, but no reply came from inside.
“Hello? Someone!” she called out, clapping her hands.
The elderly head maid emerged from the staircase leading to the lower floors. “Did you call, Lady Minerva?”
“I’d like to confirm that Lady Artemisia is currently in prayer.”
“That should be the case, yes.”
“Should? Who escorted her to the altar?”
“Today’s attendant is a girl named Lamil.”
“And where is this girl?”
“I believe she’s already gone home, as her shift’s ended, but someone else should have taken over...”
As they spoke in the hall, another maid, this one much younger, came running up.
“This is the maid who took over for Lamil,” the head maid explained. “Say, girl, has Lamil already gone home?”
“I-I was just looking for her, myself. She hasn’t officially passed the responsibilities on to me...”
The head maid and Lady Minerva exchanged glances and hurried toward the floor with the bath.
Lamil’s final task for the day had been to assist Artemisia with her preprayer purification bath, then escort her to the altar. While unlikely, perhaps Artemisia was still bathing? They rushed to open the door leading to the bath, only to find the wrong girl standing in the changing room.
“Lamil? What are you doing?! The prayer time has already passed!” the head maid snapped sternly.
The girl, wrapped in a towel, replied tearfully, “I’m so sorry, ma’am! Lady Artemisia ordered me to bathe, saying I reeked of sweat...but when I got out, I couldn’t find them!”
“Couldn’t find what?”
“M-My clothes...”
Once again, the head maid and Lady Minerva exchanged glances, then burst in unison out of the room. Not wanting to wait for the elevator, the two dashed up the spiral staircase and practically tumbled out onto the altar floor before using their full weight to push open the door with the goddess motif.
The gentle flicker of candlelight and the scent of incense filled the dim room. Opposite the door, the wall was a single massive pane of glass, through which one could see a shrine on a small hill in the eastern part of the capital—the Sacred Garden. It was a holy place where the first king of Herzeth was said to have received divine revelation, and it was accessible only to the royal family.
Notably, no one stood upon the altar overlooking it all.
“Oh no...” Lady Minerva murmured through trembling lips. “Convene the Council of the Seven immediately! And inform the royal family!”
She bit down sharply on her perfectly manicured, navy-painted nail.
“The saintess is gone!”