Chapter 55: Turbulence (Part One)
On July 14, 1187, in the Gregorian Calendar, it was a rest day.
Construction had recently begun on the new mansion, under the guidance of the royal architect of Ethanbel, Master Michel. With his watchful eye, the framework swiftly took shape, and bricks were gradually delivered to the courtyard. The artisans were working diligently, and the once-quiet Vilo Garden was bustling again.
According to Sharman, once the ground and hall scaffolding was complete and the sky garden was underway, they would break through the side walls of the first and second floors facing each other, connecting the two buildings with the sky garden. At that point, the two little buildings would truly become one.
From then on, if I had a request, I wouldn’t have to go through the hassle of running downstairs, going outside, and knocking on her door next door. I could just stroll through the sky garden or the first-floor hall – in under a hundred steps, without even pushing a door, I could waltz right into “2 Longdorr Street Mansion,” now dubbed “Vilo West Wing.”
The east wing was 3 Longdorr.
This meant that in the future, if Victoria wanted to sneak up on me again—just like that night, while I was dozing off and she was getting all handsy—she wouldn’t need any “bath renovation” excuses. Clueless as ever, she’d simply need to take a quick dash – under a hundred steps – right to my second-floor, and another couple of steps to my bedroom door.
— I really need to put a steel lock on that bedroom door ASAP.
Just thinking about that night sends chills down my spine…
On my first night back home, I spent a restless night, with dreams full of Victoria ambushing me. She quietly approached my bedside, tying me up in a position that was too embarrassing to describe, her eyes gleaming with mischief. Then she’d pounce onto the bed, grinning maniacally, and start tickling me.
And just like that, I woke up in a panic.
Upon waking, I saw the sun shining brightly outside, the garden bursting with life.
Of course, it was still the peak of summer.
But for Ethanbel, July marks the tail end of summer. With such blazing heat, it wouldn’t be able to last many more days. Once August rolled around, temperatures would plummet, the wind would cool down, and finally, I could strut out in my pretty but sweltering dresses.
Thinking about that lifted my spirits considerably.
After a quick shower, I joyfully bounded downstairs, boiled a pot of peas, and realized it wasn’t enough. I then devoured the breakfast Sharman had ordered for me. Finally feeling somewhat satisfied, I pondered having the almond cake I bought yesterday while reading, but the construction noise had started again. The artisans were hammering away, clattering and banging, making it impossible to concentrate. So, I put down my book and headed outside.
Not long after stepping into the courtyard, I spotted Sharman standing next to the fruit grove, chatting with someone.
“Good morning, Miss Silvya.”
She noticed me and immediately stopped talking, giving a slight bow, while the attending designer and artisans followed suit.
“Good morning,” I replied politely.
Unbeknownst to me, Sharman had started to treat me like a half-master… or should I say mistress. She went out of her way to meet all my requests—of course, I never asked for anything too outrageous. She was always on the lookout for my needs, arranging meals, heating water, doing the laundry, managing chores, and even shopping for necessities. Even when she wasn’t there, she’d have others wait on me. Not long ago, she suggested assigning me two personal maids for bedtime or outings, which I promptly turned down.
I just couldn’t get used to having someone glued to my side all the time; it felt awkward. This isn’t just because I had memories from my past life. It also had to do with a girl named Peilo, who grew up not enjoying that kind of pampering. It made her feel constrained; otherwise, she wouldn’t have snuck out so many times and even worked in the cake shop!
But chores that could be handled by someone else, like laundry, made me quite happy. It meant I wouldn’t waste too much time on trivial matters.
So, whether it was Victoria’s order or not, I was grateful to Sharman for her meticulous care, which saved me a lot of mental energy.
Her only drawback was that she was an ally of Victoria.
And at this point, she had clearly become the head housekeeper of the new mansion… So, in the future, I’d have to tread carefully around her.
Especially with both her and Victoria hanging around the mansion, likely bored out of their minds…
With that thought, I subconsciously turned to see her and asked, “Viki… Her Majesty, the Queen, where is she?”
“Her Majesty stayed at the royal palace last night. Recently, she has been overwhelmed with work, meeting countless people and handling various affairs. She likely won’t be back for a while,” Sharman replied.
“Oh…”
I let out a sigh of relief internally—this was good news! I wouldn’t have to face the embarrassing awkwardness I had the other night, which had kept me up for most of the night.
But then, came a wave of slight disappointment.
If Victoria wasn’t here, who would I talk to…?
I still had things I wanted to ask her…
After watching the construction for a while, I distanced myself from Sharman and returned to the mansion to clean up the plate I had used, tossing it into the kitchen where someone would wash it later. Then I plopped onto the sofa, hugging my legs and frowning, worrying how to k*ll time on my day off.
The clink of tools was still ringing outside.
The mansion was too noisy during the day to read, and with so many people bustling in the courtyard, I couldn’t practice my swordplay in peace. I thought of asking Victoria for help with questions I encountered later at night when the artisans had left, but Sharman had just said she wouldn’t be back…
Staying at home was boring, but going out was too hot. I just couldn’t think of anything to do.
Should I go to the woods outside of town…?
I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had been eating a lot recently, and my chaotic power inside seemed to have swelled back up…
After pondering for a long time, I decided to visit the church first and check the time and weather after I came out.
So, I changed into a dress, grabbed my sun umbrella, said goodbye to Sharman, and stepped out to wave down a war chariot. After haggling over the fare, I stowed my umbrella on the carriage. The driver cracked his whip, the hooves thundered, and the carriage whisked away towards St. Zayeli Cathedral amidst the cacophony.
It had been a while since I had seen Aili, and I wanted to check on her again.
However, upon reaching the church and after asking a cleric, I found out that Aili and the others had already left.
“A few days ago, the repairs in Cataloma finally wrapped up, and after that, the kids all returned… Heh, when they were here, they’d run all over the main hall and even the foyer. Back then, I thought they were so noisy, but now that it’s suddenly quiet without them, I feel a bit lonely…”
“Miss Silvya, if you had any fondness for little Aili… you can sincerely bless her now. Not long ago, the little girl made a lifelong vow to the great deity, promising to dedicate her life to faith and become an apprentice nun in the royal city’s parish!”
“Little Aili is destined to be a nun. We all like her; I can say there isn’t a single clergy member at St. Zayeli who doesn’t adore her. She’s so well-behaved, and despite her young age, she already possesses considerable piety and caution.”
“Goodness, patience, compassion, grace, faithfulness, humility, temperance—these excellent virtues; twelve-year-old Aili possesses them all. And most importantly, she has a heart big enough to embrace the world. Though compared to someone as admirable as you, her heart is still a bit tender, haha.”
“But she’s a great seed; indeed, a great seed. Given time, she might achieve something extraordinary. We can all see this; that’s exactly why the bishop recommended her to further her studies in the Holy City. It’s a rare opportunity!”
“She left with Cardinal Saint George’s group; the war chariot set off early on July 12. All the kids saw her off that day, and oh, what a scene it was… Ah, so heart-wrenching. Yet I genuinely feel happy for her. Maybe in a few years, the grace bestowed upon little Aili through her faith will astonish everyone! She might even become the next saint candidate or join the Choir of Saints… I have this premonition…”
The chatty cleric rambled on, and I couldn’t tell if he was genuinely happy for Aili or just trying to get closer to me.
But looking at his eyes, he didn’t seem to be lying.
Aili had become a nun.
I still remember that time in Winter City when I ran into her on the way to see Edward. The little girl had such pure eyes and a bright smile; she pointed the way for me, sharing her seemingly fairytale-like dreams.
[You know… I want to become a saint… I want to pray to the deity, so that all~ all the children like me in the world can be well-fed; that’s my dream…]
In less than a year, that little girl had been through so much, yet now she was already on that path.
I felt genuinely happy for her deep down.
But alongside that happiness, a wave of disappointment washed over me: Aili was gone, and she hadn’t even told me…
After everything that happened, did she… did she perhaps no longer trust me?
Had she stopped seeing me as her sister?
It’s also my fault…
I hadn’t gone to see her in so long…
I had to comfort myself later.
Maybe she was just in such a rush that she didn’t have the time to find me…
Lost in thought, I didn’t even realize how I stepped out of the church. I stood under the umbrella at the street corner, staring at the bustling crowd, zoning out. I wasn’t in the mood to visit the woods outside of town, nor did I want to head back. Just as I hesitated over where to go, I heard someone calling out behind me.
“Miss…! Wait! Please hold on just a moment—!”
I turned around and saw the same cleric who had spoken to me earlier rushing out.
He looked flustered, panting as he sprinted from the church. In my bewildered gaze, he stopped in front of me, bent over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath for a couple of seconds, then straightened up and spoke urgently, “Please don’t go yet. The Pope wishes to see you; he has something important to tell you.”
…………
Out in the countryside, by the lakeside.
A silver-haired, blue-eyed woman in a green dress washed her face, her hair tucked behind her ears. She stood up and gazed intently at the rippling lake, staring at the distant mist-covered Mount Ahama, which appeared like a fairyland. She seemed to see a bird flying over the mountains, soaring past the lush green trees and the fields blanketed by blooming silver-leaved Esham.
Staring at all this, her eyes flickered with a daze, lost in thought.
After a while, a hunched old man silently approached her from behind, stopping two meters away, lowering his head and bending his already hunched back even further.
“Miss Ailna.” The old man whispered cautiously, “It’s getting late; we need to reach the next stop before dark. Please, get in the carriage…”
But the woman paid him no mind.
She continued to stare at the mountain for a long moment, then extended her hand, pale as jade, pulling out a small, wrapped cloth from her chest. Inside lay an old, slightly worn Gospel and a palm-sized golden cross pendant.
She wrapped the chain of the cross around her palm, running her fingers over the worn cover of the book, feeling the embossed golden letters before flipping to the first page, where a neatly written name awaited her.
[Theresa Anthonyel]
The woman gazed at the name, a flicker of unnoticeable sorrow flashing in her eyes.
“Sebastian.”
She called out coldly, and the old man replied hastily, “Here.”
“Do you know that Sister Theresa loved the view of this mountain more than anything?”
“That…”
The old man seemed somewhat troubled. After hesitating for a moment, he eventually spoke the truth: “The servant has been with you in the Eastern Continent for these years and has no understanding of the lady Theresa back in the Western Continent. I’m not aware of her preferences.”
“Then do you know what she has done for us, for this world, over the years in the Western Continent?”
“The servant knows.”
This time, the old man’s answer was firm.
“Hmm.” The woman nodded, her expression severe as she looked ahead. “Since you understand, then remember her.”
The woman closed the Gospel.
“We can’t publicly showcase genuine sacrifices and offerings, nor can we allow the world to comprehend. Our power is minute, so small that it requires us to cling to humanity’s ill will just to survive. And the promises we made not long ago were bleak, with barely a glimmer of hope.”
“Now, finally, someone has fought for us, for this world, to bring hope.”
She unfastened the chain and lifted her hand, kissing the sparkling cross resting in her palm.
“But our hero, the hero of this world, sacrificed her life, her soul, and her glory for this cause. Even in her final moments, she never forgot her mission but was placed in a filthy church after d*ath, worshipped by ignorant and self-righteous people. This is a desecration to her, thus I took her out, but she cannot just return with me, exposed to the same foolish mob in the Eastern Continent, to be scorned for a hundred years. Do you understand this?”
“I understand.”
“She should stay in a place she cherishes, enjoying the gentle mountains and clear waters, the peaceful sky. This is the least I can do for her.”
As she spoke, she rewrapped the cross pendant, along with the Gospel, tightly in the cloth. She took two steps forward and gently tossed the bundle into the lake.
It traced a graceful arc in the air and splashed into the water with a soft ‘plop.’
It sank quickly.
The woman stared at the ripples in the lake for a moment before speaking again, “Then, rest easy. Once I unveil the veil of this darkness and restore the world to what we desire, I will return, and you shall be the pioneer of that new realm. The mountains and lakes you cherish will truly become the holy land worshipped by all.”
“Let’s go.”
Having said that, she turned and walked towards the waiting war chariot not far away.
“We are going to find the Land of Dragons.”
“Yes.”
The old man lagged a half step behind her, keeping pace.
“Sebastian.”
“Here.”
“The Pope Knight who fought alongside her until the end—what was his name?”
“… Silvya.”
“Hmm.”
