"I must ask for your forgiveness, Your Grace," Yohana spoke softly, her eyes reflecting her genuine regret. "My words may have been brash and uncensored, and I hadn't sought your consent. In that moment, all I could see was the injustice you were facing, and my emotions overwhelmed my better judgment."
Duchess Nora reached out, her touch warm and appreciative, her voice soft and sincere in return. "Your words, though unconventional, were a shield against those attacking my dignity. For that, I am deeply grateful. Your intentions shine through, and that's what truly matters."
With an unspoken understanding, Yohana guided Duchess Nora toward the waiting carriage at the gate. As the duchess stepped in, their hands connected in a silent exchange of camaraderie.
"May our paths cross again," Duchess Nora said, her voice hopeful. "Would you permit me the honor of sending you invitations? I'd like to foster a friendship with someone as bold and compassionate as you."
A smile graced Yohana's lips as she nodded in agreement, her heart warmed by the duchess's genuine gesture. "It would be an honor, Your Grace. I look forward to it."
With that, the carriage began its departure, carrying Duchess Nora away. Yohana stood there, waving goodbye. As she waited for her own carriage to arrive, Yohana's keen senses caught a hint of movement originating from behind a tree, cleverly concealed by the manor's towering wall.
Intrigued, she followed the soft rustling, her curiosity guiding her steps. Emerging from the shadows were Beatrice and a red-haired man, whose features seemed oddly familiar.
It didn't take long for Yohana's memory to connect the dots – he was the missionary she had encountered during a visit to the church with Henrie, a discussion that revolved around the construction of Solism temples.
Yohana hadn't been aware of Beatrice's acquaintance with the missionary, and the situation seemed curious. What could prompt him to venture this far, to the estate of another noble, rather than waiting for Beatrice's return to her own home?
The missionary, Sir Adelwin, held Beatrice's hands tightly, an air of earnestness about him. He passed a glimmering stone to Beatrice, his words carrying an unusual weight.
"Lady Beatrice, I have to leave for Valoisia soon. Please keep this close and think of me during my absence," he implored, his voice laced with emotion as he offered the sparkling stone.
"What is this, Sir Adelwin?"
With a solemn demeanor, he explained, "This is a protective stone. While Sanctists might not hold it in reverence due to Saint Bateilla's omission from the Holy Book, Tusshia has bestowed knowledge of the power of such stones upon us."
He lifted Beatrice's chin, his intent clear as he leaned in for a tender kiss. "Once I have concluded my missionary duties, I shall beseech my family to extend a marriage proposal to you."
In Sanctus, the role of missionaries held a unique place within the ecclesiastical hierarchy. Unlike direct leaders of the church, missionaries functioned as akin to outsourced volunteers, offering their aid to the church's various initiatives.
These individuals could chart diverse paths based on their experiences. Some, ignited by their missionary journey, ascended to leadership roles within the church. Others, however, found their future calling in entirely different avenues after fulfilling their missions.
Adelwin's trajectory exemplified this dynamism. His proposal to Beatrice was not bound by the strictures of a conventional clergy path, thanks to the nuanced structure of Sanctus' religious landscape.
Although certain families held positions within the church in high esteem, even more honorable than conventional occupations, the course was diverse. An archbishop's mantle, for instance, bestowed dominion over a specific region, underscoring the substantial authority some ecclesiastical roles commanded.
With his scholarly inclinations, it seemed more aligned for Adelwin to steer toward an educational occupation, rather than traversing the realm of religious authority.
The melding of his missionary fervor with his scholarly pursuits painted a picture of a young man carving out a unique place for himself beyond the confines of traditional expectations.
"But will the count consent to such an arrangement?" Beatrice asked.
Sir Adelwin's reply was confident, filled with conviction, "Why wouldn't he? You possess the qualities of a remarkable lady, and he will undoubtedly recognize your worth."
With that, he left, departing as abruptly as he had arrived.
***
With Yohana finally returning, despite being in another person's body, Fabian felt glad. He could now step into her chamber, a place that had held so many memories for both of them.
In the aftermath of Yohana's inexplicable vanishing, Fabian had found himself pausing at the threshold of this room. It was as if crossing that boundary would somehow erase her even more, making her disappearance all the more real. The pain of her absence had been an ever-present ache.
But now, with Yohana's return, a ray of hope pierced through that darkness. The weight of his fear, the worry that he might lose her memory entirely, began to lift.
He realized that he no longer had to cling to the memories as if they were fragile glass, ready to shatter. Yohana was back.
As his gaze swept across the chamber, a flood of cherished memories painted each corner with vivid recollections. The laughter of a younger Yohana seemed to reverberate through the very walls, bringing back a symphony of days gone by.
Unconsciously, a smile curved his lips, a testament to the genuine happiness those memories brought him.
Fingers brushing over various objects in the room, he embarked on a nostalgic journey, each touch igniting a scene from their shared history.
Picking up an item, he allowed the associated memory to play out in his mind, a slideshow of moments that felt as real as the present. A gentle touch traced the surface of each object, evoking feelings that had been carefully stored away on the shelves of his memory.
He closed his eyes momentarily, savoring the very essence of the air, noting how it was different now, distinct from when Yohana had occupied this space.
Once, it had carried the powdery sweetness of floral fragrances, thanks to their mother's penchant for placing flowers here. Now, it bore the familiar scent of dust, a sign of the passage of time.
Fabian opened the cupboard door. Among the cherished mementos preserved within, his gaze landed on a necklace that held a special place in their memories bestowed upon Yohana by their mother – a delicate pendant adorned with a stone that seemed to shimmer with the same hue as Fabian's cufflinks.
As his thoughts wandered, a stray recollection flickered through Fabian's mind. It concerned his missing cufflink, an inconspicuous item that had somehow gone astray within the royal palace. Though he attempted to maintain an air of nonchalance about it, the truth was that the matter was not entirely trivial to him.