Chapter 185: Embers (Part 2)
He bowed his head very low, his gaze fixed on the gray wool carpet beneath his feet, his emotions a bit agitated. “Her Majesty the Queen, this is entirely my fault! I was careless! Who would have thought that the old gatekeeper at Cataloma—such an honest fellow—was actually a heretic of the Gate of Truth? I never had a single inkling of suspicion about him… I’m so sorry! Faced with an enemy like Teresa, I lost my cool… I didn’t realize she had already handed over the goods… I let that gatekeeper escape right under my nose, I—”
“Rect.”
Victoria’s gentle call interrupted Rect’s self-recriminating monologue.
She raised her delicate hand, tidied her hair behind her head, and pulled her gaze away from the window to look at Rect with an expression devoid of warmth.
“Less of this useless mumbling, cough-cough, and figure out who gave the orders.”
Rect paused, “Uh… Her Majesty…”
Victoria slightly furrowed her brows.
Feeling a bit uncomfortable after leaning against the headboard for too long, she shifted her position, half-sitting up, rubbed her forehead, and spoke softly, “I’ve already had the city locked down… You find out who gave the order to let them go and tell me.”
Only then did Rect come to his senses, promptly responding, “Yes.”
After he nodded, Victoria waved her hand.
“You take care of this cough-cough, delegate it to someone else, and go get some rest for now.”
“Alright.” Rect stood up.
But instead of leaving immediately, he lingered in place for a moment, ultimately unable to restrain himself from asking, “Your Majesty, is your health… fully restored?”
“Mm.”
Victoria replied, extending her left arm out from under the covers and examining it closely—her skin as smooth as cream, as delicate as a tender sh**t of bamboo.
Aside from appearing slightly pale from bl**d loss, she looked as perfect and stunning as ever.
She flexed her fingers gently… so nimble, with no discomfort at all. It was as if the injury that nearly rendered her arm useless just moments ago had never existed.
“Wonderful…” Rect exclaimed, “The healing miracle performed by the Saintess is truly like something out of fairy tales… the blessings of the deity are astonishing. Her arrival last night was quite timely; perhaps it was all orchestrated by the divine, truly a great help.”
After the moment of awe, his expression gradually grew complicated.
“…Is Teresa’s faith really stronger than the Saintess? It’s hard to imagine… what if she hadn’t held back at the time? But why didn’t she use a miracle… is there something deeper going on, or is it just as the rumors say that Teresa is forsaken by the deity… and that’s why…”
His musings seemed more like aimless rambling rather than something directed at Victoria.
Naturally, Victoria wouldn’t engage with such aimless topics.
After a moment, Rect seemed to suddenly recall something and spoke again, “Your Majesty, with the Saintess making a sudden visit to the Royal City, what preparations do we have?”
“That’s not for you to worry about.” Victoria replied coolly. “Go fetch Shalman.”
“Understood.”
Rect acknowledged, taking a few thoughtful steps back, but at the door, he suddenly added, “Your Majesty, regarding the Saintess’s purpose for her visit—”
Victoria’s brows knitted deeply.
“Rect.”
As she softly spoke, she had already closed her eyes.
“Present.”
“Go out.”
“…Oh.”
With a soft thud, the door closed.
…………
Noon.
At the street corner a hundred meters outside the Cataloma Orphanage.
Margaret stood at the edge of a deep chasm. Staring at the blackened bone fragments in her hands, her gaze was somewhat dazed. Her crimson lips barely parted, her beautifully crafted face displayed a hint of disbelief as she mumbled to herself like a monologue.
“Boswell actually shattered… how could this happen…”
“Something’s off… this is… a medium disappearing, someone moved it… no, that’s impossible… how could that be done…”
Soon, a young nun approached and stood beside Margaret.
“Saint.”
Margaret regained her composure and turned her head. “What’s going on?”
“The children’s emotions have stabilized a bit. I’ll temporarily take care of their daily needs. Before the repairs on the orphanage are done, I’d like to move them to St. Zayeli Cathedral. Do you think that’s acceptable?”
After a moment of thought, Margaret nodded in agreement.
“Okay, take them over. I’ll speak to the bishop over there later.”
She paused before adding, “Make sure the children get plenty to eat.”
“Understood.” The nun replied.
Just then, a commotion erupted not far away.
“Wait… just a minute!”
“No! I have urgent business… I need to see the Saintess, let me through! Please, sister—”
“No, I just mean wait a moment; it’s not that you can’t see her! Wait for the Saint to finish her business…”
Margaret turned her head to look in the direction of the noise.
By the toppled wall, a dirty little girl just over ten years old was desperately trying to break free from the grip of a nun holding her, her little face full of urgency.
At that very moment when their eyes met, she cried out, “Saint, please help—!”
Help?
Margaret felt puzzled.
She handed the bone pieces to the nun beside her, instructing, “Take these remains with you,” and quickly walked toward the little girl.
“Saint…”
Seeing Margaret approach, the nun was at a loss. Margaret gently nodded at her, “Let her go.”
The nun released her grip, and the little girl stumbled a few steps forward, looking up at Margaret. “Saint…”
Her sweet, melodious voice was slightly hoarse, and her mouth quivered as if she were about to cry.
“What happened?”
Margaret patted her head gently and asked softly.
“I beg you… I have a friend… I want to ask you to save her… Waaa…”
The more hurried the little girl became, the less coherent she got, her eyes reddening.
Margaret squatted down, straightened her tattered clothing, and gently patted the little girl’s thin shoulder. “Don’t rush, take your time. What happened to your friend?”
This act calmed the little girl a bit. She wiped her tears away, leaving a gray streak across her face.
“I… I have a friend… She… she brought me out from the cellar… Waa… her leg… her leg… Waa… please save her…”
In her childish voice, the little girl trembled as she stammered out her frantic words, causing Margaret’s heart to tremble slightly.
She knew the girl was scared and anxious.
All she could do was try to comfort her: “Don’t cry, it’ll be alright. I’ll go save her… Just tell me where she is.”
The little girl sniffled, her tear-filled eyes looking at Margaret before she suddenly broke down.
“Waaah—”
She opened her mouth wide and wailed.
“I don’t know where she is, I don’t know where she is! Ah—! She’s hurt so badly, but I don’t know where she is, ah—!”
Tears like raindrops slid down her dirty cheeks, mixing with the grime on her face.
She didn’t know what to do and plopped down in front of Margaret, her grubby hands stretching out as if wanting to grab Margaret’s skirt, but ultimately hesitated, instead clasping her hands tightly to her chest in a prayer-like pose.
“I beg you, I beg you, I pray to you, outstanding Saint… I am the most devoted believer, please save her, please save her…”
Margaret wanted to pull the little girl up, to tell her she didn’t have to do this. But the girl was so stubborn; after trying without success to lift her, she could only lean down and gently embrace the muddy little body.
“Don’t be scared, it’ll be okay. I’ll go back and find her… Just tell me, when I save your friend, what is her name?”
“Waa… Pe… Peilo…”
Margaret froze.
She looked at the girl’s tear-stained face and, a moment later, couldn’t help but smile.
That smile was as subtle as a fleeting thought but lingered long in the air.
……
Volume 3: The Young Woman and the Abyss of Oblivion
