While nobles lined up to show reverence to Satin, if she attracted such a man, it would only be a joke.

“If you wanted to keep me company because I’m alone, there’s no need.”

Delilah coldly rejected him.

“I have company.”

“Uh, I-I didn’t mean anything by it, just that, uh, since it’s our first meeting…”

Who is this person?

Delilah scrutinized the man’s appearance. But it was hard to guess anything just from his attire.

An artist?

Until last year, she had heard that only nobles attended the National Foundation Day held within the Papal Palace. Though the events hosted by the Pope were small in scale, they were conducted with solemnity. This year, however, was different.

Kirion had sought to reverse tradition. He expanded the scale of the event and invited guests beyond the nobility. These included painters, sculptors, and musicians who had presented works to the Papal Palace.

Theatrical troupes and orchestras were also invited to perform. If Delilah had been invited to today’s ceremony as an artist, she would have performed as the prima donna of the grand theater.

Currently, the atmosphere in the banquet hall was dominated by nobles. Despite the inevitable wall between nobles and commoners, artists who often worked alone couldn’t even mingle among themselves and wandered the outskirts.

Only those belonging to groups like the orchestra or theater troupe seemed to be quietly conversing without disturbing the nobles’ socializing.

If an artist, lacking status, had no place to fit in and targeted a solitary woman to make a move, his intentions were usually transparent.

“Enough.”

“P-Pardon?”

“It seems you’ve approached the wrong person.”

Annoyed, Delilah avoided the man. She was about to leave to find Gjorn, who hadn’t returned.

“Your Eminence, Archbishop Vitalis. I am Rublier Ka Dillon, the sword of His Holiness the Pope and the leader of the Holy Knights.”

The greeting that had approached unnoticed caught her ear. It was the Paladin. Satin, holding her dress, bent her knees in a curtsy beside him.

“Your Eminence, Archbishop Vitalis. It’s been a long time. I am Satin of Del Mare.”

Who? Archbishop?

It was an identity she wouldn’t have imagined even in her dreams. The man wasn’t wearing the cassock symbolizing an archbishop. Moreover, he lacked the characteristic reverence and dignity of archbishops.

But he was an archbishop.

Vitalis. Delilah’s memory, trying to recall why the name seemed oddly familiar, went blank. This man was Archbishop Vitalis. The unremarkable younger brother of Kirion, who was considered the next Pope.

Satin was the first to notice Vitalis. Catching sight of his silhouette passing behind Rublier, Satin quickly changed the subject.

“His Eminence Vitalis is here. But why is he approaching that prima donna?”

At Satin’s indication, Rublier quickly recognized him too.

“Indeed. I heard he rarely attends such events, so why today?”

Vitalis had always avoided large gatherings, so unless one frequently visited the Papal Palace, few knew his face.

Moreover, he bore little resemblance to Kirion, making it hard to believe they were brothers. Their appearances and personalities were completely different.

Satin tilted her head and questioned.

“He hasn’t attended many official events, so he should come out today. Compared to His Grace Kirion, who is very active publicly, His Eminence Vitalis, hasn’t diligently fulfilled his duties as a successor, has he?”

It was an innocently naive reaction. Having frequented the Papal Palace, Rublier was accustomed to the widespread agreement among high-ranking clergy that Kirion would be the next Pope.

Vitalis himself had withdrawn without complaint. He implicitly accepted the expectation that his brother would inherit their father’s position.

“He intentionally avoids showing himself. Since Kirion is almost confirmed as the successor, there’s no benefit in confusing people.”

Satin looked at Rublier with a face of newfound realization.

“What do you mean? His Holiness the Pope is still in good health…”

He wasn’t. The Pope’s old age was a national concern. But it wasn’t something one could openly express. It could be seen as blasphemous. Satin skipped over the risky statement.

“… Anyway, there hasn’t been a divine oracle about the successor.”

“The next Pope will be Kirion. Everyone acknowledges it. Satin, didn’t you know?”

“It’s not that I didn’t know, but since there hasn’t been a clear oracle, it’s premature to assume the successor is decided. Both have equal opportunities.”

Satin countered again. Rublier hesitated before speaking.

“Although it’s not officially recorded, Kirion has already received a vision.”

“A vision? Is there something else other than an oracle? What is it?”

“It’s not a suitable topic to discuss right now, so let’s talk about it later when we’re alone. Anyway, that’s why Kirion is acting on behalf of His Holiness the Pope.”

Without knowing the reason, it wasn’t entirely convincing. Still, for Rublier, who was more familiar with the Papal Palace than anyone else as a member of the Holy Knights, to insist so strongly, there must be a good reason.

Moreover, the matter of succession wasn’t something to argue about at this moment. Discussing the next successor while the current Pope was still in place would be disrespectful to him.

“Alright, I’ll assume there’s something I don’t know about.”

Satin took a step back. She eased her stance and instead looked at Vitalis.

It was awkward. Despite being Kirion’s brother, the nobles’ reactions were quite different from when they faced Kirion. She could roughly guess their thoughts.

Vitalis had already been pushed out of key positions, and his reputation as being less capable than even an ordinary person was well known, making people hesitant to approach him.

Kirion also seemed too preoccupied dealing with the heads of the Quan Theon and Jan Sillot guardian families. Unlike Del Mare and Sel Wio, they had no children to tie into a marriage and no child like Ka Dillon who had captivated Kirion with talent, so the two families, feeling the most threatened, were seizing the rare opportunity to converse with Kirion.

Even worse, Vitalis was with Delilah, who attended the ceremony as Gjorn’s mistress. Whether intentionally or not, it was the worst choice. There was no chance for anyone to gather around them.

Satin felt the same. She had no particular ill feelings toward Vitalis, but he would be the most uncomfortable person for Delilah here. As she was about to turn away, resigning herself to later, Delilah’s sharp tone rang out.

“Enough.”

“P-Pardon?”

“It seems you’ve approached the wrong person.”

The dullness that lingered in her ears was like the sound of tapping the rim of a glass filled with water with a fingernail. It carried a clear sense of dislike.

What kind of woman is she?

Satin was curious. Her first impression of Delilah was that she was someone who knew how to please others. On the other hand, Gjorn said she was a pitiful woman.

Satin’s parents said she was a woman who knew her place. Meanwhile, Lady Eckle described her as formidable. And now, she was cold.

Having so many facets in one person was confusing.

“It’s like she’s dealing with a peddler who wandered into the grand theater.”

Rublier commented. Satin sighed.

“She has no choice. Everyone is ignoring His Eminence Vitalis’s dignity. Not just the nobles, even those artists didn’t show any courtesy.”

A part of her felt uneasy. Those who didn’t know Vitalis treated him like a peddler, as Rublier commented, and those who did know him deliberately avoided him until someone else took the lead.

Satin looked around. She wished Gjorn would come back quickly and at least pay his respects to Vitalis, but there was no sign of him. Reflecting on Gjorn’s introverted nature only made her sigh more.

She knew how most people, if not all, viewed Vitalis. Even Vitalis himself acknowledged he was unnecessary to the Papal Palace and had withdrawn.

Is this okay? Even if Kirion is considered the next Pope, it’s not confirmed yet. Is it right to create such a disparity between brothers? The guardian family is tasked with protecting the country, the Pope, and justice. What happens if even the guardian family tacitly allows such exclusion?

“…I’ll go greet His Eminence Vitalis, before Gjorn returns.”

Satin made a decision based on her conscience. Rublier nodded.

“I’ll go with you.”

After all, Vitalis was the second son of the Pope and the brother of his friend. Witnessing the scene of him being ignored by a prima donna didn’t sit well with him as a member of the Holy Knights.

Rublier extended his arm. Satin awkwardly placed her hand on his arm, which was meant to escort her.

Rublier frowned.

“Like this, we look like clumsy dance partners from the academy.”

He meant for her to come closer. But Satin couldn’t help but recall the past when she stepped all over his feet during their dance practice. Despite the turmoil, she almost laughed.

“My shoes have high heels today. You should be careful.”

It was a joke, of course.

“I forgot. My wife tends to wobble in high heels.”

But Rublier took the joke as an excuse. He pulled Satin close, wrapped his arm around her waist, and started walking with large strides. Satin was startled by the strength of his arm encircling her.

It was different from holding hands. The waist is a sensitive area that others don’t touch easily. But with so many eyes watching, it was awkward to act clumsily. She could only manage a small protest.

“I’m not wobbling!”

“Sure. But I remember finding a big bruise on your foot after you took off your shoes.”

A bruise?

She hadn’t noticed because he had acted so nonchalantly. Satin was led away without even a sound.