It was not yet noon when Hylan walked out of the church. An hour earlier, when he began his sermon, there were fifty people in attendance. Twenty minutes later, only eight remained. He had originally planned to assist in distributing relief meals to the homeless after the sermon, but an assistant stopped him. "We have enough people here," the assistant said. "You might as well go back early and take care of your own matters today." The assistant's tone was firm, which left Hylan a bit embarrassed, but he had recently experienced far worse situations. For example, a pastor with whom he once had a good relationship had told him, "You should leave the church, Hylan. Think about how your presence affects the believers. How can they believe now that the church only shelters the good and the devout?"
The Duke of Koen had become a sinner, and as a long-serving clergyman in the Koen family, Hylan's judgment and moral standards were called into question. After multiple interrogations and investigations, he was mostly exonerated from involvement in illegal activities, but he lost much of his influence within the church. Many who once believed he had the potential to become a bishop now thought he deserved severe punishment, possibly even being expelled from the church.
Hylan did not feel the white bricks of the church walls behind him were too glaring simply because of these accusations. He did not feel disheartened by the doubtful gazes of the believers who had risen from their seats and left. He firmly believed that the Holy Light was a personal pursuit, not something to be manipulated by social status or the surrounding environment. But it was precisely this same belief that had contributed, to some extent, to his mistake—a mistake he acknowledged, however small, that made him question whether he had strayed from the path of the Holy Light.
Hylan was, of course, aware that Koen had always engaged in illegal activities. Koen trusted him too much and often sought his advice on the legal steps involved in those illegal activities. Hylan had once rescued Koen's son, Phipin, from a fire, leaving permanent ugly scars on his back and neck, which only strengthened his faith: the redemption of the Holy Light is for everyone. The person he saved could have been Phipin or an unnamed orphan from the Queen's District; the character of the saved should not affect the execution of the Holy Light's benevolence. It was Koen's sins that made Hylan feel it necessary to remain loyal to him, to let the Holy Light guide his path. Now it seemed that all those efforts had failed, or at least the opportunity to continue trying had been lost.
There had always been people in the church who believed Hylan's theological studies were too esoteric and lacked practical significance in preaching. They thought the Holy Light encouraged a strong and just presence, and purely spiritual preaching was not always effective. Hylan had to reconsider such opinions. Regarding the depth and breadth of Koen's crimes, he had only learned a small part, mainly the power struggles concealed under the guise of ritual. He believed these matters could be corrected through good deeds and were an inevitable part of the political world. Now, through the investigators from the Bureau of Public Safety, he had learned more. Koen had committed some crimes that could not be concealed by any legal pretense, and some of these were intolerable to Hylan. For example, one of Koen's major achievements was the governance of the Queen's District, for which he bribed the courts, fabricated evidence, and sent a large number of innocent people to prison. Or, for instance, he had once rescued several prostitutes from the Queen's District, only to have them continue their trade in the inner city. These were things Hylan did not know, but he had at least witnessed countless bribe-takers, clutching coins, sitting in the hall anxiously waiting for Koen; he should have long inferred from these facts that Koen merely needed a symbol of the Holy Light that matched his status. Hylan, who was deeply engrossed in theological research and whose religious prestige was growing, was that symbol; at the same time, Hylan's past position in the church was not unrelated to Koen's protection.
Hylan realized that, in the end, his relationship with Koen had been a mere exchange of interests from the very beginning.
He could only admit his dereliction of duty.
An hour later, he returned to Koen's residence. The main door was open. Inside, there was no sign of the butler or the servants—most of them had left, some even without saying goodbye. The house was nearly empty, with many of the luxurious furnishings and decorations gone. One of Koen's married daughters—two others were implicated in the case—had arranged to move some of the items, and the Bureau of Public Safety had confiscated another portion under the pretext of evidence collection. Perhaps it wouldn't be long before everything else would be seized as well. Some windows were broken, with shattered glass scattered across the dirt-stained floor: covered in mud, leaves, and the footprints of people and wild animals. Outside, the stables were empty, all the horses taken away, and every pet was gone, leaving only a few collars with fur attached. Clearly, whatever fate awaited Koen, the Council had no intention of letting him return here.
For over a decade, Hylan had lived in a small room in this grand house. He wouldn't call Koen his family, but perhaps this house was his home. His sorrow now wasn't due to the downfall of wealth, but to the disappearance of familiar things. He had come to realize that living here had caused him to hesitate for years about going to the slums to preach. He never anticipated that in such a Shawlt time, he would clearly see one weakness after another in his faith emerging within himself.
Hylan went up to the second floor, where he saw an investigator from the Bureau of Public Safety. The investigator was directing a few people to remove a large oil painting from the wall.
"Inspector," Hylan said. "Must the front door remain open all day?"
"It's for convenience. We're about to move out these paintings, and more of my colleagues will be coming soon."
"This could invite thieves."
"They wouldn't dare, and there are people watching outside." The investigator turned around and looked at Hylan. "This has nothing to do with you, right? Or are you thinking of replacing the butler and taking care of this place? Tidying it up nicely to welcome Koen back?"
"No. I just don't want any unnecessary damage."
"If you really thought that way, you should have exposed Koen ten years ago when this house didn't have so many things that needed confiscating." He turned back to the men removing the painting. "Damn it, be careful! Do you know who painted this? It's worth at least five thousand gold coins."
Hylan stood still for a moment, realizing that the investigator had no intention of continuing the conversation, then turned and walked away. Moments later, he stood by a window in the corridor, looking at the nearby fountain, the garden a bit further away, and, even further, the vast hunting grounds that once belonged to the Koen family. He imagined what Koen had once felt as he viewed all of this—everything within sight was his wealth—and whether he had ever anticipated that it would all one day disgracefully slip from his grasp.
Another investigator approached from the left.
"Father Hylan."
"Good afternoon, Mr. Cornwall."
"It's just past noon. I didn't expect you to return so early."
"It wasn't the original plan. It seems the church doesn't need me much right now."
Cornwall understood, showing a slightly bitter, comforting smile.
"This is a sensitive time. Once all this is over..."
"For me, it will never be over. As a clergyman, this has been the greatest lesson of my life."
"I'm not very good at religious debates; I just hope you can get through this as soon as possible."
"Thank you for your concern."
Cornwall had once interrogated Hylan, and his report confirmed that Hylan was unaware of Koen's major crimes. Hylan considered this investigator to be pragmatic and trustworthy, not just because he helped clear him of suspicion. Among all the investigators on this case, Cornwall was the oldest and displayed the corresponding experience and attitude. His many years without promotion might have been due to the integrity that didn't sit well with Koen, Hylan speculated, applying his newly acquired political insight.
"Mr. Cornwall, about that matter..."
"I've inquired as much as I could. There's no clear decision yet. The focus is still on gathering evidence of Duke Koen's crimes and determining how to prosecute."
"What's your opinion?"
"It's hard to predict. But I don't think you need to worry too much. After all, Koen's third daughter and her current family, as well as you, have all been cleared of suspicion. This shows that we are acting fairly. This is a very important and serious investigation, and there can be no room for error, which naturally includes not implicating the innocent. If that were to happen, it would be repeating Koen's crimes, wouldn't it? If Lady Hilsbeth is truly innocent, she has nothing to worry about."
"Will you be interrogating her?"
"I can't guarantee it, but it shouldn't happen soon. My superiors have considered her special circumstances... If the issue can be resolved through other investigations, there's no need to trouble her. In this regard, if you could provide more information, it would be very helpful."
"Information?"
"For example, Lady Hilsbeth' background. We only know she comes from the Queen's District, possibly a refugee from Lordaeron, but everything else is unclear."
"I'm sorry, I really can't add anything more," Hylan said. "Back then, Young Master Phipin went to the Queen's District against his father's wishes and met her there. That's all I know. This marriage was a surprise to everyone."
That was all Hylan could say. Seven years ago, Panthonia had placed Hilsbeth in his care, but he truly did not understand what kind of exchange had occurred between them. It was hard to imagine that the Bureau of Public Safety was unaware of the connection between Panthonia and Hilsbeth; since Cornwall didn't bring it up, Hylan decided not to mention it either.
A lie. As I plan to reconsider the Holy Light, I am still lying. Or perhaps I am refusing to acknowledge a past sin.
Hilsbeth still lived in this grand house. In fact, ever since she married into the family, she had rarely stepped outside its doors.
"You have always cared for her," Cornwall said. "I believe this indicates that you consider her innocent."
"Without a doubt."
"Whether she was involved in the case is a minor issue. I think you should consider what will happen after she is exonerated. Koen's estate is likely to be entirely confiscated, and as far as I know, she has no assets in her name. The days ahead could be very difficult for her..."
Hylan remained silent for a long time. Cornwall realized he shouldn't have brought up this matter.
Ten minutes earlier, he had just left Hilsbeth' room. Since he gained access to this grand house, he had tried many times to communicate with her through writing. At first, he was filled with anxiety because he was approaching a woman connected to Panthonia's past. Her cautious kindness didn't ease his tension. He didn't know why he continued to do such a dangerous thing.
At that moment, a loud thud suddenly sounded from ahead. The heavy frame of the large oil painting had fallen to the ground, followed by the cursing of his colleagues from the Bureau of Public Safety. Like with any sudden shock, Cornwall was startled, even taking two steps back. In his paranoid imagination, the floor had cracked and caved in, and he would fall to the first floor along with the debris. He pressed his right hand to his heart and noticed that Hylan was watching him.
"Sorry, I should be going back. If there are any updates, I'll inform you as soon as possible."
He lowered his head as he walked past Hylan and quickly left the house.