She felt heat rushing to her ears.

Snow quickly let her hair fall forward, which she had tucked behind her ears, to hide from High Priest Patrick’s view. She clasped her hands tightly under the table. Her heartbeat quickened. Flustered, Snow kept her lips firmly shut. She didn’t forget to glance out the window.

High Priest Patrick stared at her as her expressions changed moment by moment before his eyes. Then he answered her question.

“That’s correct. From what I’ve heard, the current Count Mihail Callisto has no sons, only two daughters, so there’s a high probability the title will pass to the Count’s brother.”

“…?”

Snow opened her eyes wide in disbelief. She composed her expression, trying to appear as calm as possible.

“I heard the Count’s family has a first-born son. Is that not true?”

“A first-born son…? What do you mean?”

The High Priest asked back, seemingly puzzled by her question.

“I had some personal acquaintance with Count Callisto when we were young, so we still keep in touch occasionally… but this is the first I’ve heard of such a thing. Who told the Holy Maiden such a story?”

Snow’s carefully maintained expression crumbled. Even in that moment, she bit her lip slightly, trying to stay calm, worried that the snow falling outside might stop again like before. Snow desperately tried to think of another possibility.

“Does the Count’s brother not have a son?”

“He has one, as far as I know.”

Snow’s expression instantly brightened like a candle lit in a dark room. Of course, that one son must be El. If his father inherits the position of the next family head, then El would be next in line, so it somewhat makes sense. Snow eagerly bombarded the High Priest with questions.

“What kind of person is that son? Is he skilled in swordsmanship? Is he knowledgeable? What is his reputation regarding his personality?”

High Priest Patrick was quite surprised to see the Holy Maiden looking so lively, like someone her own age. She had always been a quiet and timid girl, but now she seemed very enthusiastic and energetic.

“Well… I’m not sure.”

“I see. Perhaps he’s not famous enough to have reached your ears yet.”

She interpreted the High Priest’s words in her own way.

‘El, you boasted about knowing so many things in front of me, but it seems you need to work harder?’

However, Elios’s deception, which seemed to have been successfully covered up, was completely shattered by the High Priest’s next words as he continued to look puzzled.

“It’s not that… the Count’s nephew is only five years old.”

“…”

At that point, Snow gave up trying to hide her expression.

Admirably, she barely managed to hold onto her last thread of reason. The most important thing now was the weather. She carefully grasped the teacup in front of her. Her hands trembled slightly, making the teacup rattle. Though the tea had already cooled to lukewarm, she tried to calm herself by drinking it slowly, but then she choked. Snow put down the teacup and covered her mouth with both hands, coughing repeatedly.

“Holy Maiden, are you alright?”

Snow continued coughing for quite some time, unable to properly answer High Priest Patrick, who looked concerned. Even while coughing, her head felt numb as if she had been hit by something.

‘El, who exactly are you?’

A frightening thought began to creep in.

‘Have I been dreaming all this time?’

She wondered if El was just an imaginary friend she had created out of loneliness. She began to suspect he might be a figment of her delusions.

The situation was so absurd that even her thoughts became absurd.

“Excuse me, High Priest.”

“Please ask.”

High Priest Patrick immediately responded to the Holy Maiden’s serious expression. There seemed to be some problem, but she apparently had no intention of telling him about it. Her silver eyes flickered unsteadily like a candle in the wind.

“Do you know of a nobleman with blonde hair and black eyes?”

“…Could you describe him in more detail?”

“He’s a young man around my age. He has blonde hair, but not the bright golden kind that shines yellow; it has a lot of orange mixed in. Like the color of the sunset when the sun rises and sets. His eyes are a black that’s neither light nor dark. His eye corners droop very slightly, and his eyebrows seem rather thick, and… he’s extremely kind and has a pure smile. I think he might be a little taller than you, High Priest Patrick.”

Snow frantically listed El’s physical features as she remembered them. Whether El’s existence was exposed or not was important, but the more pressing issue was whether El actually existed at all. With an expression that looked like she might burst into tears at any moment, Snow stood up, placed her hands on the table, and rapidly poured out her words.

BOOM! A thunderclap sounded.

Snow flinched.

Suddenly, silence fell. Snow and High Priest Patrick locked eyes. The High Priest slowly nodded, and Snow became aware of her unusually excited state.

“Please sit down first.”

Snow’s hands left the table. She gripped the fabric at her thighs so tightly that it wrinkled. When she sat down, the chair made a creaking sound.

High Priest Patrick encouraged Snow to finish the tea in front of her. After she drained it, he asked:

“Are you feeling calmer now?”

Snow lowered her eyes, bowed her head, and slowly nodded.

As he listened to the Holy Maiden’s description, High Priest Patrick immediately thought of a certain young man. He had no doubt that the person she was describing was that young man.

“The person you’re describing seems to be Prince Elios.”

The first son of the current Emperor, conceived during the Year of Calamity and almost stillborn.

Until recently, he had frequently visited the temple to receive blessings from the High Priests or Ceres. Any High Priest would have given him a blessing at least once. Many High Priests found it very surprising that he had not attended the Holy Maiden’s coming-of-age ceremony.

Patrick had seen his face several times and knew him well. His kind impression, the smile that seemed habitually embedded in his face. Snow’s description matched him so precisely that it was impossible to think it could be anyone else.

“Elios… the first… prince…?”

Snow’s voice broke. She tried hard to deny it, but High Priest Patrick’s expression was so resolute, as if stating some immutable truth, that she couldn’t even attempt to deny it.

‘El. Elios. El. Elios. El… Elios…!’

It wasn’t just a similar name. It was simply shortened!

“…Are you certain?”

Snow asked in a barely audible voice.

Snow had suddenly become excited, then startled, then subdued again, returning to the quiet girl the High Priest knew. For a moment, the High Priest felt as if he had been bewitched by an apparition.

The Holy Maiden that High Priest Patrick knew was someone who suppressed her emotions, again and again. Everyone found it regrettable. She had voluntarily confined herself to the Santarium and lived with a quiet smile.

A flower that had never received sunlight, with a thin stem and fragile petals, pale in color. That was the Holy Maiden. But now, albeit briefly, she looked like a wildflower blooming freely in the deep mountains, covered in morning dew every day. That was truly how she appeared.

“Is the person I described really Prince Elios?”

Snow asked once more. High Priest Patrick nodded in affirmation. Then he asked:

“May I inquire how you know him?”

“I just saw him once or twice from a distance.”

Snow mumbled with a blank expression and said nothing more.

The Holy Maiden had started venturing outside the Santarium more frequently after her coming-of-age ceremony, but Prince Elios had not visited the temple even once since then. The High Priest couldn’t understand how she could have seen him from a distance. But he had no right to question what she chose not to reveal.

Snow, who had just learned that El was actually the First Prince, couldn’t help but recall her childhood memories. How much he had badmouthed his siblings. How triumphant his expression had been when he declared that at least the First Prince would like the Holy Maiden.

How much El, or rather Elios, had laughed when she said that only the prince living in the imperial palace would be extraordinary from birth.

For the first time, Snow thought that El was a bad person.

♣ ♣ ♣

Prince Elios Riman Akelan officially expressed his intention to visit the temple. With his coming-of-age ceremony approaching, he stated that he wanted to receive Ceres Martadia’s blessing.

That was the superficial reason, but in reality, he planned to meet Ceres Martadia and find out directly what she was plotting. Since Ceres knew about the meeting between the Holy Maiden and the Prince, moving carelessly would be too reckless.

Elios thought that Ceres might avoid the meeting by making plausible excuses. However, Ceres readily sent an affirmative response. No one doubted Elios, who wanted to receive the blessing of the highest authority in the temple before his coming-of-age ceremony. He visited the temple accompanied by minimal personnel.

Martadia had been in Ceres’s position since before Elios was born. The last time Elios had seen her was about two years ago. Ceres, whom he saw after two years, was still beautiful despite having aged considerably. The traces of age had given her a mature wisdom that made her appear even more beautiful.

“Prince Elios, it’s been a long time.”

Ceres placed one hand on her chest and greeted him gracefully. Although the temple’s authority was not what it had been in the days when it surpassed imperial power, Ceres Martadia was by no means inferior to Prince Elios. Moreover, since Elios was considerably younger than Ceres, he greeted her respectfully.

Ceres’s room resembled her. Elegant yet modest, dignified but never excessive. After receiving Ceres’s blessing, which was a formality, Elios was guided to her white and simple room.