Luise’s eyes, wide with tension, met his at the mention of Hedric’s report.

“No word in advance? What is the meaning of this?”

“It seems he wishes to discuss matters concerning the demonic beasts. He said he would rather speak of it in person.”

Shed hesitated briefly, then set his boot to the stirrup and swung up onto Gardwell’s back in one fl*id motion.

“Luise, I’ll go ahead. Take your time coming back.”

She understood without needing further explanation.

It was his way of telling her to steer clear of the High Priest while he dealt with Dietrich alone.

Luise nodded quietly and he turned his horse around at once. Hedrick followed close behind as they rode towards the manor at Recherdam.

‘Why has Dietrich come here himself?’

Shed’s thoughts churned as Gardwell galloped forward. There was no reason for Dietrich to abandon the central temple of Faradel and travel all this way. He could easily have sent a subordinate priest or one of the knights and retainers stationed there.

The fact that he had come in person could only mean that the matter was of the utmost gravity. A grim sense of foreboding sounded like an alarm bell in Shed’s chest.

🌺⟡───⟡🌺 🌺⟡───⟡🌺

“High Priest Dietrich.”

Shed strode quickly into the manor at Recherdam. There, in the drawing room, the High Priest was already waiting.

Dietrich rose hurriedly from the sofa where he had been seated, pushing his spectacles up the bridge of his nose as he greeted him.

“L–Lord Lester! It has been far too long. May the blessings of the Divine be upon you…!”

He wrung his hands nervously as he spoke. Nearly four years had passed since their last meeting, back when Shed had left for the Blancas campaign and Dietrich was serving as governor.

Since the great heretic hunt, the temple had praised Dietrich’s contributions, and his reputation had spread far and wide. In order to guard against any resurgence of heresy, he claimed the position of High Priest in Ideana while remaining in Faradel to dispense the gods’ blessings.

Perhaps it was the adulation of those around him that had changed him. There was a brightness to his face that hadn’t been there before. He even seemed more sociable and polished. For Dietrich, who had once been withdrawn and eccentric, Shed thought it was a welcome change.

“What brings you all the way here, High Priest?”

“W–why, to see Lord Lester, of course.”

“I am asking why you have come.”

Shed spoke each word distinctly, standing beside the sofa rather than taking a seat.

Dietrich faltered, his eyes darting about as if searching for the right answer. He could sense the lack of welcome in the air.

“W–well… there have been changes in the Prunig Mountains, and I thought it best to speak to you directly about them…”

Though his stammering had lessened with time, his voice now shrank smaller and smaller, losing its confidence with every word.

“Changes in the Prunig Mountains?”

Now that the matter had been clarified, the tension in Shed’s demeanour eased slightly. He finally gestured for the High Priest to sit down and took the opposite sofa himself. While a maid prepared tea and refreshments, he continued his conversation with Dietrich.

“Th—the Prunig Mountains… the permafrost is spreading.”

“Then are you saying the master of the mountain has awakened?”

Shed’s expression settled into solemn gravity. Dietrich fidgeted with his hands and gave a small nod.

The Prunig Range formed the northern border of Ideana. Its towering, snow-capped peaks created a natural barrier that protected the land from foreign invasion. However, the permafrost was now advancing further and further down the slopes.

Shed was born in Ideana and had grown up hearing tales of what happened when the eternal snows reached the mid-slopes of Prunig. According to legend, the dragon of frost, Gelevan, would awaken and snow would fall upon Ideana.

“It isn’t certain yet. After all, winter is coming. The Highlands of Prunig have already seen the first snows, so perhaps that’s all it is. But in the north, there are whispers that the mountain’s master may be stirring.”

After the harvest season, winter came swiftly to Ideana. Perhaps it was just an early wind sweeping down from the deep valleys. Yet it could not be dismissed outright.

“M–my thought is, you should return to Faradel, consult with your retainers, and deliberate closely…”

Shed rested his clasped hands on his knees and lost himself in thought. If the matter was indeed about Gelevan the dragon, then such decisions should be made in Faradel, the heart of Ideana.

“A—and the Harvest Festival approaches as well. At such a time, it would be better for you to be in Muenher or Faradel than here in Recherdam…”

Dietrich’s blue eyes flicked meaningfully toward the window.

Ah, the Harvest Festival.

She let out a shallow breath. He had neglected it during his years in Blancas. Once the harvest was over and the farmers had finished working, the festival would begin. It was one of the most important celebrations of the year and the lord’s presence was essential. In Blancas, distance and war had reduced it to mere written accounts. Now that he had returned to his own domain, however, his presence would be expected.

By all accounts, he had to go to Faradel.

‘…So I cannot remain in Recherdam forever.’

He had come here first for Luise and Eve, but he knew he could not spend his life hidden away in this estate.

“Very well. Once the council concludes, I’ll make preparations.”

Shed inclined his head.

Then—

“A–and… will Lady Liana also be coming to Faradel?”

At the sound of that name, Shed’s brow furrowed sharply.

“Liana… you say?”

“I—I heard she returned with you.”

Dietrich said, and there was a spark of delight on his face.

“…And where exactly did you hear such a thing?”

“Of course, everyone knew that Your Grace had been searching tirelessly for Lady Liana. I thought I might be able to help find her, too…”

Dietrich fumbled for the words as he spoke, feeling awkward. Even the Vitel, who prided themselves on having unparalleled intelligence networks, had uncovered nothing of value. How, then, could a High Priest in Faradel have achieved more? Nevertheless, he had tried to find her in his own way.

“…And why, exactly, would you be searching for her, High Priest?”

“Eh? Oh… uh… Wh–why was it that Your Grace sought her, again?”

His eyes blinked vacantly; the question was naive and clumsy, yet it struck Shed as an interrogation.

“…You mean to say it was for my sake?”

At Shed’s darkened brow, Dietrich flinched and darted his gaze to the ceiling.

“But, more importantly, it’s remarkable. I always found it curious that she vanished without a trace. So Lady Liana is in good health, then?”

Her brow furrowed deeper. No matter what efforts Dietrich claimed to have made to search for Luise, it was another matter entirely that he knew she was here. She had never spoken of her beyond these walls. He had not sent word to Faradel, nor had he entrusted anyone with such news.

‘However he learned of it, this has become troublesome.’

Shed studied the priest’s guilelessly bright face. No matter how the news had spread, hiding Luise from Dietrich now would only seem more suspicious.

“She will remain here in Recherdam.”

“Eh? Wh–why is that?”

“…Is there a reason she must not?”

Shed returned calmly, lifting his teacup as though unfazed.

“No, of course not. But she is the woman you sought with such determination, isn’t she?”

His confusion was clear to see. How could a man spend years searching, only to leave her behind now?

“There is no reason to bring her to Faradel.”

“Y–yes, I see… Then, perhaps you’ll be meeting with High Priestess Giselle Marlhein instead?”

Dietrich rubbed his chin, nodding absently.

At the sound of that long-unheard, unwelcome name, Shed froze mid-motion, his teacup suspended in the air.

“Giselle Marlhein… High Priestess?”

“A–ah, yes. Th—the High Temple intends to send someone as well, on account of the dragon. And… it seems High Priestess Giselle herself will be coming.”

At that, Shed set his cup down with a sharp clatter.

“Do they not know at the High Temple that I am no longer betrothed to her?”

His voice was laced with biting irritation and his eyes glinted with a lethal edge. Rattled, Dietrich threw up his hands in alarm.

“O–of course they know! Who in the Empire could be ignorant of that…! But there is no one with skill to match High Priestess Giselle!”

He rushed to explain.

If the dragon of Prunig truly awakened, many protective wards would need to be raised. And there were but two who could accomplish such a task: the Pontiff, and Giselle Marlhein.

Her mastery of weaving wards and composing prayers was unparalleled: flawless, meticulous and unerring. Even the barriers that Dietrich himself had once raised against heresy were overshadowed by the protective circles of the High Priestess.

Thus, after years away, Giselle Marlhein was returning to Ideana. En route to Faradel, she would inevitably pass through Recherdam.

“Did High Priestess Giselle herself say she would do so?”

That obstinate, prideful woman—coming to the domain of her former fiancé, whom she had cast aside? Merely at the Pontiff’s command?

“Y–yes, that… that is what she said.”

Dietrich blinked his blue eyes and nodded, producing the authorization letter he had received from the High Temple.

“…Ha.”

Seeing Giselle’s name written there caused him to exhale roughly.

He could not fathom why she, of all people, had taken on this task. Giselle Marlhein was not one to obey anyone, not even the Pontiff, if it went against her wishes.

Was this her way of showing that the broken betrothal no longer mattered to her, even after all these years?

‘How remarkable.’

As always, she paid no heed to anyone else’s thoughts, being stubborn and selfishly focused on her own desires.

If nothing else, she was unmistakably herself.