Without thinking, Amelia yelled, “That necklace is my mother’s memento!”
The king glanced back and forth between Amelia and the necklace. “Wasn’t the fifth consort’s orison stone a dark green?”
His point was sound—by all rights, it should have remained a dark green. That said, Amelia couldn’t exactly explain the reason for the color change to him, and she struggled to answer.
Prisca, slightly relieved, smiled sweetly. “Oh my, are you that envious of my status? I am certain that it is clear to everyone now—I am a Saint.” She puffed out her chest with overflowing confidence.
Luke interrupted her. “What about the others?”
A silly “Heh?” spilled out from Prisca’s mouth.
“The Saint’s duty is to produce orison stones and to serve as the cornerstone of our kingdom’s defenses. As a matter of course, they wouldn’t merely produce one stone. I have heard that they are only permitted to keep one of them, correct?”
Under Luke’s questioning gaze, the priest nodded.
Luke continued, “Assuming that necklace is the orison stone you keep on hand…where are the others?”
“I-I only have one so far,” Prisca stammered. “Making them isn’t that simple.”
Luke inclined his head. “I hear that each Saint produces one specific type of stone, and that the previous Saint, the fifth consort, created dark green malachite. What type of stone is yours, Your Highness?”
“This is, well…”
Seeing Prisca fumble for a reply, the priest took a step forward. “Though the color is pale, it has a banded pattern. I believe it is a malachite.”
Luke put on an astonished expression that seemed deliberate. “Oh? That is the same type as the previous Saint.”
“What about it?” Prisca muttered. “The color is different, so it must be a coincidence.”
Not choosing to answer her, Luke simply nodded. “In the end, as long as someone possesses an orison stone, she will be recognized as a Saint; is that correct?”
Prisca chewed hard on her bottom lip. “Are you trying to imply something with that?”
Disregarding the girl again, Luke walked forward until he was before the king. He knelt in respect and presented his hand. Something small sat on his palm.
Under the king’s summons, the priest took it into his hand and observed it—his expression morphed in the blink of an eye. “This is…an orison stone. I have not seen one infused with this much mana in a long, long time.” The priest, unable to fully suppress his wonder and excitement, reverently offered it to the king.
The item that the king picked up with his fingers was a clear crystal with red inclusions. “What is this?”
The priest bowed. “It is a strawberry quartz. Without a doubt, it must be an orison stone. One of remarkable quality, at that. I suspect its innate mana rivals the previous Saint’s orison stones, which are currently enshrined in the church and serve as the linchpins of our national defense.”
Like the priest, the king couldn’t fully mask his bewilderment. “Luke Klein. Where in the world did you obtain this?”
“Before answering that question, I would like to confirm one thing. If you conclude that stone is an orison stone without doubt, it would mean that the person who produced it is a Saint, yes?”
“True, that would be the case.”
After nodding, Luke fixed his gaze on Amelia. Intrigued, everyone followed suit.
Luke said, “Princess Amelia manifested that stone for my sake. The priest has identified it as an orison stone. And as long as someone has even one orison stone in their possession, they would be recognized as a Saint. Do I have that right?”
“I-Indeed.”
Not sparing as much as a glance at the fourth consort and Prisca, whose eyes were so wide that Amelia feared they might pop out, Luke trained his gaze on the king alone. “In that case, it would mean that Princess Amelia is likewise a Saint. A princess Saint must wed into a family only second to royalty in prestige. In other words…there wouldn’t be any issues with Her Highness becoming my wife. The wife of House Klein’s heir possesses such a status. Am I wrong?” Luke’s golden eyes gleamed as he wore a bright smile.
“Th-They have to be lying!” Livid, Prisca marched forward in Amelia’s direction. “Do you even have proof?!”
Luke stepped before Amelia to defend her. “An orison stone is in His Majesty’s very hands.”
“How can something like that be proof?! You might have stolen it from somewhere!”
“Like you did?”
Color drained from Prisca’s face. At the same time, she glared daggers at Amelia.
Luke addressed the king again. “If orison stones are difficult to produce at a moment’s notice, like the fifth princess said, it must be a challenge to make the final verdict now. However, at the very least, I believe that the betrothal between Princess Amelia and me is worthy of remaining as it is.”
“A fair point,” the king muttered as he gazed at the strawberry quartz. “If the requirement to be recognized as a Saint is a single orison stone, they are on equal standing. In that case, it is more sensible for Amelia to wed into House Klein as she is the older sister and already has a long-standing betrothal to Luke Klein.”
The moment she heard that, Prisca gasped. “No, Father! Surely not!”
After her, the fourth consort raised her voice. “Your Majesty, please reconsider!”
To their dismay, the king raised his hand to silence their objections before rising to his feet from the throne. “We shall postpone the conclusion until a second orison stone is produced. Until then, I shall investigate whether the accusations related to Amelia’s forced imprisonment, alongside other abuse, are true or false. I will organize an occasion on a later date to announce my findings. The audience today will end here!”
Following that declaration in a majestic voice, the king left the throne room behind him. Everyone else present, who bowed as they watched his exit, proceeded to individually leave the chamber.
When Prisca strutted past Amelia, she whispered, “I won’t take this lying down. Just you wait.”
Those words oddly lingered in Amelia’s ears for a long while, even after their parting.
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