Hm?
Instinctively, I turned to look at Tesilid.
Our eyes met, and he quickly looked away, covering his mouth with a faintly flustered expression.
At that moment, Rewin, noticing the ring on my left hand that I had waved dismissively a moment ago, remarked thoughtfully, "Ailet, I don't think I've seen that ring before."
His expression turned to one of sudden realization, as if he'd sensed an enemy ambush, and he snapped his head toward Tesilid.
Tesilid's left hand, which bore a matching ring, glinted prominently under the midday sun, drawing attention.
Seeing Rewin flinch, I hurriedly jumped in to explain.
"Oh, about that—it's a rosary ring artifact that I happened to find recently. Tesilid and I acquired it together, and it's specifically effective for those who have awakened to bishop-level divine power, so we're both wearing it."
"I see… but why wear it on your ring finger?"
"It didn't fit on my middle finger."
"Is… that so."
Then, Prince approached and patted Rewin on the shoulder.
"Cheer up, Rewin."
"Prince?"
It seemed the two of them had grown comfortable enough to use casual language with each other.
I watched their growing friendship with amusement.
"I'll support you."
"...?"
"I've known you for six years at the academy, so I can vouch for you."
"…"
What are they even talking about?
Meanwhile, the members of the Silver Rain Knights were patting Tesilid on the shoulder.
"Hey, Tesilid, Viscount Valenstein is pretty formidable competition."
"Don't give up too soon. In fact, being a potential son-in-law could work as a strong appeal."
"I'll remain neutral on this one. Apologies, Brother Tesilid."
"…"
I couldn't help but laugh softly at the unfolding situation when my necklace hummed.
"Yes?"
Seriously, even Agnes?
"...Let's stop here, shall we?"
['The Scales That Judge Souls' can't contain their laughter.]
Unable to reply, I elbowed Tesilid, who was still getting teased.
"Don't let it bother you."
"…Got it."
Time to bring things back to order.
"Come on, let's get going to the royal palace."
"Understood. Departing now."
Prince took out the group transfer stone, which shattered as he activated it. The light dispersed in the air, gradually erasing my vision in white.
A moment later, I opened my eyes, and the entire scenery had changed around us.
[
We stood in the midst of the royal palace's grand courtyard, surrounded by the splendor of its architecture.
Royal knights lined up on both sides, simultaneously bowing in greeting.
"Welcome, Your Holiness!"
While the lavish greeting was appreciated, my attention was elsewhere, focused on Tesilid by my side.
From the moment we arrived, his eyes had lost much of their usual vitality. The high palace walls seemed to dredge up bitter memories from the last iteration.
'To Tesilid, this place is no different than the heart of enemy territory.'
I'd need to stay sharp if we were to face the web of schemes bound to target him here.
"Thank you for the warm welcome, nobles of Winchester," I said, plastering on a cordial smile and stepping forward with resolve.
['The Cliché Connoisseur' senses the whiff of a scandalous drama and pokes their head in for a peek.]
A new deity had arrived, fittingly, for this new stage.
I continued onward without surprise, walking out of the scorching sunlight and into the royal palace.
In the Grand Hall, a figure awaited us—a person exuding the royal dignity of the kingdom.
"It is an honor to welcome you, Your Holiness."
"Thank you for coming out to greet us, Princess Celestid."
The platinum-haired princess, her hair flowing in soft waves, offered a courteous bow.
Beside her was my dear friend, the noble lady with dark hair.
"Bia."
"Ai."
Seeing her, a rush of things I wanted to say flooded my mind, but I didn't know where to start.
We simply exchanged glances, a bit choked up with emotion, when my necklace hummed again.
"…."
The question brought me back to my senses.
I was here on official business, yet I'd almost forgotten myself in a personal moment. Gathering my composure, I addressed Celestid.
"Have you been waiting long?"
"Waiting for the one who saved my life made even a long wait feel brief."
So, it had been a while.
Royal speech patterns.
"Your Holiness, I cannot describe how anxious I was after the disturbance in the dungeon. But seeing you return safely fills me with immense joy."
"It is thanks to the protection of the Lord."
"Not only to you, Your Holiness, who saved me, but to the Lord who kept you safe, I must offer my deepest gratitude. I promise to make a generous donation to the church when it is completed."
"Truly? Then the Lord will surely bless Princess Celestid with radiant glory!"
I had supported her before, but now I'd support her even more.
At my candidly displayed political stance, Celestid looked momentarily surprised.
With a smile, and glancing around as if aware of the eyes and ears nearby, she smoothly shifted topics.
"I must apologize for keeping you standing here. First, allow me to guide you to the reception hall, where you may be received by His Majesty."
Walking beside her through the corridors, I listened as she explained the schedule ahead.
"A grand banquet will be held tomorrow in Your Holiness' honor. The central nobility eagerly await the chance to welcome the hero of the Helkaion and Anaxia subjugations. It will be a great honor if you grace the gathering with your presence."
"Understood. I look forward to my first formal banquet experience."
Responding without much enthusiasm, I glanced sideways to gauge Tesilid's reaction.
'Hmm, as expected.'
The strikingly handsome man beside me sighed quietly, as if holding back a weary breath, his lips parting slightly before closing again.
He seemed to be recalling the banquets he attended in past lives, feeling a sort of hollow distress in silence.
A common knight from a humble background invited to a noble banquet—imagining the scenarios was enough to understand the discomfort.
Considering the original story's frustrating tone, I could vividly picture the experience: criticisms on attire, nitpicking on etiquette, ridicule of speech, baseless rumors, whispers behind his back, jabs in front of him, snide remarks about his status, forced drinking, and all sorts of petty schemes.
They truly pulled out all the stops.
['The Scales That Judge Souls' shouts that this time, if anyone bothers the protagonist, they're ready to bring down divine retribution!]
['The Insider Overseer' clicks their tongue, noting that it's only because of the endless frustrations that a sip of justice feels so refreshing.]
['The Word That Builds Worlds' laughs, suggesting the 'Insider Overseer' can enjoy a flat justice drink instead.]
We had almost reached our destination by now. Turning a corner, I saw the door to the audience chamber at the end of the hallway.
Next to me, Celestid took a small breath, calling my name in a slightly tense voice.
"Your Holiness."
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"Are you aware of the current state of affairs within the Winchester royal family?"
She was subtly offering an explanation if needed.
"Yes, I am. No need for concern."
"I see."
Celestid exhaled in relief, as if glad to find her worries unfounded.
"Then, please have the other guests wait here while you and the bearer of the Sacred Sword are received."
Creak.
The massive door swung open smoothly.
"Now entering: His Holiness of the Elphenheim Theocracy, Sir Ailet Rodeline, and the bearer of the Sacred Sword, Sir Tesilid Argent."
Following the clear voice of the attendant, Tesilid and I crossed the threshold.
With my gaze lowered, I walked toward the throne at the far end of the chamber. Step by step, it drew closer.
In reality, King Ferat of Winchester had been bedridden for many years.
In his place, the one who held the reins of power was none other than…
"We are honored to stand before Her Majesty, the Queen of Winchester."
It was Queen Raviola, the mother of the Third Prince, Ligares.
"Please, rise, Your Holiness."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
On the throne sat an icy beauty, almost like a goddess carved from eternal ice.
Despite nearing forty, her beauty seemed to defy age itself.
Her icy, pale blue eyes were striking, and her prematurely white hair, turned by an old tragic event, only added to her mystique.
'Truly, she's a woman whose beauty alone could elevate her to queenship.'
Queen Raviola had originally been a lady from a fallen viscount's family who rose to her position as a consort, catching the king's eye.
Entering the royal palace without any backing, the hardships she endured were likely beyond imagination.
Once a naive woman who sought nothing but peace, her life changed completely after she lost her first son, the Second Prince, Reminic. From that moment, she began to covet power.
Thus, today's assessment of Queen Raviola was that of "a white-haired villainess, mad with power."
Her current goal was clear: to place her only remaining son, Third Prince Ligares, on the throne.
Naturally, she wouldn't look kindly upon me, who had come here after rescuing Celestid.
"First, I must thank you for saving Princess Celestid and Prince Hadeil."
The emotionless voice reminded me of something I'd nearly forgotten.
Ah, right—Hadeil. Almost slipped my mind.
Caught up in Reid's appearance, I hadn't paid him much attention, but it seemed he'd also managed to escape the dungeon safely.
Somehow, even such a troublesome fellow had a strong survival instinct.
"You're too kind."
I kept my reply short, as engaging in lengthy pleasantries would likely only test her patience.
And it seemed Queen Raviola felt the same way, for she proceeded to the main point with an even colder gaze.
"As God's daughter, we promise to treat the Holy Vicar with utmost reverence during your stay. I hope you find no discomfort here."
On the surface, it sounded polite, but the underlying message was sharp.
'She wants me to stay neutral and leave quietly.'
It was a warning for me, as God's daughter, to keep out of secular affairs—politics, in particular.
As the Holy Vicar and the granddaughter of Duke Hispenril, my support would carry significant weight.
Queen Raviola was making it clear that she intended to keep my influence, which would never favor her son, out of the political arena.
"Did I perhaps phrase it too subtly?"
Perhaps my silence had made it seem as if I hadn't caught the hidden meaning.
Queen Raviola's tone grew more direct.
"Please, do not interfere in the succession dispute. That way, I won't be forced to touch anyone under the Holy Vicar's protection."
A thinly veiled threat.
And as she finished, her gaze wasn't even on me.
Queen Raviola's ice-cold eyes were fixed on Tesilid, standing at my side.
Exactly, Agnes.