“Eggplant and shrimp...”
“Yes,” Nax said apologetically. “I foolishly transported the magical beast, helped the orphans prepare it, and ate it with them. It was delicious.”
Since taking the special position of high priest at the church, Nax should never have cooked. Yet now he was reporting this to me, the pope, his expression tinged with reluctance.
Nax, with his striking sapphire eyes and lustrous flaxen hair, was immensely popular among female believers. Was his pallor due to his failure to protect Lady Laviange Robur?
As I was now, expressions were one thing, but complexions were entirely beyond my grasp. Ever since I lost the princess who’d mattered more to me than anyone, I’d lived for decades in a world composed solely of black and white.
“Her elder brother and the team leader overseeing the lady at the Academy were monitoring her,” I said. “It couldn’t be helped. Still, the lady possessed a talent for cooking, didn’t she?”
“Yes. Despite her high status as a noblewoman, she willingly cooked it herself and was beloved by the orphans. Her magical power was as rumored—she could use domestic magic to a certain extent. Her personality was a bit—no, very unique...er, original? But it was a long way from the rumors painting her as a wicked, cruel woman who tormented her former sister after her banishment. It must have been the second princ—her former fiancée—and her former sister who deliberately spread those rumors to discredit the princess.”
“I see. Well, at least we’ve gained some insight from that.” I wasn’t entirely unconcerned over Nax’s remarks about her being “unique” and “original.” But recalling the shocking strangeness—no, her true nature—when I’d first seen the lady, I deliberately avoided the topic and offered my congratulations instead.
“But did the lady truly take an active role in the graduation research and the scrunchie sales?” Nax asked hesitantly. He was talking about the project presented by last year’s Class 4D and taken over by the lady’s class. It focused on countermeasures and recovery efforts against salt damage that had been caused by a once-in-a-century supersized hurricane. The scrunchie sales also tied into that thesis.
“Besides, at the presentation where His Majesty the King was invited, they indirectly pointed out the church’s lack of support...”
“But Class 4D surely had no intention of making such accusations at the time?”
“Well, that’s...”
“And neither the students attending that presentation nor the guests, including His Majesty the King, would have interpreted it as the church maliciously withholding support. There’s no need for concern.” I chose carefully neutral words and smiled gently at the dissatisfied Nax.
Students entering Class D, aside from Lady Robur, were mostly lower nobility and wealthy commoners. Especially young students. Their political maneuvering skills were limited. Yes, except for that lady from one of the Four Great Ducal Houses.
But Nax still seemed to be in a sour mood.
“The disaster area is in the remote countryside,” I told him. I had to consider my position as the pope. “Dispatching priests to purify that land incurs significant costs, and the church is no longer the state religion it once was. Its position prevents it from pursuing profit. Even widely publicizing the limitations of long-term stays in regions with low donations, where funds are returned as relief meals, is insufficient. And the research isn’t just about growing cotton to remove salt from the disaster area. It involves having the orphans take the lead in securing materials from magical beasts, while Class D students provide and maintain magical tools, and supply the orphans with beast repellents and edible ingredients they’ve foraged. When necessary, the orphans are also taught hunting and magical tool repair methods to foster self-reliance in the disaster area. As Class D has the highest number of students receiving tuition reductions, this initiative is recognized by the Academy and considered part of their contribution to the institution.”
“Your Eminence, you mentioned that such thinking represents the ideology of the privileged class, those who command laborers, even among the nobility.”
“Yes. The rubber was developed by the designer Moonshadow of the Lyonoble Trading Company. This new material, made using cotton and magical beast parts gathered by the orphans, was used in the hair accessories sold by Lady Robur’s class at the cultural festival. They set two price points, and both sold out completely. Not just the three-copper-coin version for commoners, but even the one-gold-coin version—which was expensive, even considering it doubled as a donation for the disaster area. That’s because they were branded as being designed by Moonshadow.”
“Certainly, some nobles among the church believers said Lady Robur was the one who connected Class D and Moonshadow,” said Nax. “But isn’t that suspicious? I actually spoke with her, and she didn’t seem connected to Moonshadow at all...”
“The investigation into the lady’s background mentioned she had connections to the president of the Lyonoble Trading Company,” I mused. “It’s possible the lady requested assistance for both the graduation research and the cultural festival, and the president lent his support.”
If that presentation had merely implied the church’s shortcomings, we would have protested to the Academy and crushed the graduates. However, before the presentation, the students had donated the hair ties to the church, claiming them as research results. Then, using profits from the hair accessories sold by the Lyonoble Trading Company, they made another large donation—this time in the Academy’s name.
The donated hair ties had proven remarkably convenient; church officials were captivated by them. Amid all this, upon learning about Class 4D’s planned graduation research presentation the following month, the priests hurriedly dispatched personnel to the disaster area.
If this was someone’s scheme, the church had been skillfully manipulated.
“But...”
“Good work,” I said. “You may withdraw.”
Nax had once been a commoner. He had no experience dealing with the ruling class—royalty or the Four Great Ducal Houses. No matter how much I explained, my intuition, born of experience, would be lost on him.
Having reached that conclusion, I blended the enhanced Charm spell I’d gained from a certain demonic pact into my own magic and released it.
“Yes, excuse me.” The moment he was bathed in the Charm spell, Nax withdrew obediently, his face flushed as if with fever.
I watched his retreating back. Then I ceased the release of that magic and leaned back deeply in my chair. Closing my eyes, I reflected on the day I’d first met the lady—that single moment when the black-and-white world had gained color.