Elios bit his lip. But he soon shook his head. Guilt or not, saving Snow came first. First and foremost, Snow needed to be safe.

“The Holy Maiden is likely to be somewhere related to the Nigritia ducal family, especially places connected to young Lord Ian Nigritia. I also have another place in mind…”

“Please tell us.”

“There are several places the Holy Maiden and I visited together. Since those are the only places outside the temple that the Holy Maiden knows, she might have gone there.”

High Priest Patrick was surprised to learn that the Saint had left the temple alone with the Prince. Within the temple, only High Priest Verdus and Ceres knew about the relationship between Saint Bernadette and Prince Elios. Even the miracle the Saint performed in Oblivion, healing the sick, was officially recorded as the Saint going out with High Priest Verdus.

It was essentially the same as secretly sneaking the Saint out. Normally, this could have escalated into a bigger issue. But the priorities were different now. If they could use this information to guess where the Saint might be, the Prince taking the Saint out was something that should be quietly overlooked for now.

“Only Lord Callisto and I witnessed the moment when the Holy Maiden strangled His Majesty’s neck. I have taken measures to ensure Lord Callisto keeps silent.”

He had hoped they would let it pass at that point. But neither Ceres nor High Priest Patrick were fools. Both had the same question. High Priest Patrick asked Elios:

“But according to Your Highness, didn’t His Majesty see the Holy Maiden’s face?”

“……”

Elios fell silent. He was momentarily flustered. His father firmly believed Snow was Freia. He seemed to feel something like guilt toward her, and appeared to have no intention of revealing that the Saint was the would-be assassin. He had even praised Elios when he declared he would hide the assassin’s identity.

Ah, even apart from the matter of Freia, it would be problematic if it became known that the Saint had attempted to assassinate the Emperor. Belatedly realizing this, Elios calmly answered:

“Father—I mean, His Majesty—also judged that the Holy Maiden was in some strange state at that moment. He said there must have been some irresistible reason for the Holy Maiden’s actions, and that before revealing the culprit’s identity, it was more important to find out why the Holy Maiden acted that way.”

Elios recited verbatim what he had said when persuading Crusis. Ceres and High Priest Patrick nodded in agreement.

Elios was still standing, with occasional rough breaths mixing into his speech. It was evidence that his physical condition was still poor. High Priest Patrick advised Elios to lie back down on the bed.

“I understand. From here on, you can leave it to us. Your Highness needs more rest. Later, when the weather calms down a bit and we send someone to the imperial palace, we will let them know that Your Highness is unwell and is being cared for at the temple.”

Elios knew that even if he lay down, he would feel like he was lying on a bed of needles until he heard news that Snow had been found. Elios couldn’t just stay still. He was determined to go out and search for Snow somehow.

But Ceres was no pushover either. She thought Elios absolutely needed to rest. If Elios went out to search for the Saint and collapsed again, that would be another problem.

“Your poor health is an issue, but if Your Highness were to go missing while searching for the Holy Maiden from the temple, it would also cause trouble for the temple. I earnestly request once more that you trust us and leave this to us from here on.”

Ceres said. When this woman, who usually spoke only gentle, monk-like words, spoke like this, Elios couldn’t insist any further. Every word was absolutely right. If Elios were to go missing, that in itself could become a seed of discord between the temple and the imperial family.

Elios had no choice but to agree.

Though Elios was in Ceres’s room, Ceres vacated it for him. It would have been sufficient to provide him with a guest room for his overnight stay, but the fact that Ceres gave up her own room indicated how highly she regarded Elios.

Ceres and High Priest Patrick left the room to give instructions regarding the search for the Saint, leaving Elios alone.

The weather glimpsed through the window showed no signs of improvement. This meant that Snow’s condition was still not normal. Not knowing where she was or what she was doing while helplessly passing time was maddening.

Distractedly biting his nails, he suddenly felt dizzy again and collapsed onto the bed. He felt lightheaded. He placed his hand on his forehead. It was still burning hot.

Freia.

Suddenly that name popped into his mind.

What exactly was the relationship between Snow and Freia?

Elios believed Snow and Freia were connected, but his father’s claim that they were the same person didn’t resonate with him at all. He thought it impossible. Anyone with common sense would think the same as Elios.

Although he had learned what Freia had gone through, it felt more like a historical event from decades ago, like a war between Akelan and some country, rather than something that had happened around him.

In fact, even the connection between Freia and Snow didn’t feel real to him. Trying to link Freia and Snow together gave him a sense of detachment, as if floating one layer above reality.

However, Freia had caused him to ponder various things.

It wouldn’t be just Freia Nigritia alone. Countless wronged individuals exist who aren’t recorded in history. Freia was just one of them.

Though there was no evidence, the Nigritia ducal family was clearly preparing for rebellion. The previous Emperor used Freia to create that evidence, and crushed the sprouts of rebellion before they could surface. While from an individual’s perspective it might have been an extremely heartless action, from the nation’s standpoint, it was simply excising a festering boil.

But is it right for the weak to be brutally violated, trampled, used, and ultimately sacrificed for the sake of the strong, for the victors?

Elios recalled his nanny, Prevaka. A woman whose throat was cut after she poisoned Elios’s tea to save her family who were held hostage.

He hadn’t forgotten her fingernails, raw and ragged from scratching the floor; her thinning hair; her bloodshot eyes; and her desperate voice crying, “Your Highness, please save me! My family is being held hostage!”

When Elios had placed a flower crown on her head, along with one for the Empress. When he said, “I really like my nanny,” and she replied, “I like Prince Elios the most too,” Prevaka surely didn’t hate Elios.

Poisoning him wasn’t done out of her own emotion. She had been threatened with hostages.

He remembered the moment Prevaka was dying. Freia probably wasn’t much different. She must have struggled desperately like Prevaka, watching her household members, father, and brother die before her eyes.

Freia. Prevaka. And now countless wronged individuals whom no one remembers.

Though it had been several years ago, he remembered how Prevaka’s head, with eyes wide open, was severed with a swish and rolled across the floor. It felt terribly unreal, and because of that, terribly real. The cross-section of her severed head wasn’t three-dimensional but flat, as if hastily colored white or red. It didn’t look human.

Suddenly he felt nauseous. Elios retched several times. After coughing repeatedly until his face turned bright red, he finally calmed down.

His nanny had died when Elios was much younger. He thought he had forgotten it all, and indeed, it hadn’t bothered him. But today, recalling that incident made him nauseous.

While it might not be the same case as Freia, she too was ultimately just used by those in high positions and then ruthlessly discarded.

That’s the kind of position Emperor is. Endlessly using and using and using those beneath him. If you don’t grasp and use them at the right time, you might be used instead.

That’s why Elios truly disliked that position. It didn’t suit him. He had too little ambition to become Emperor, feared losing things too much, and had no grand aspirations.

He didn’t want to have the whole world at his feet. He didn’t want everyone to kneel before him. It seemed too lonely.

There were things more precious than power and authority.

Crusis, who pretends to be an adult but still needs much care; Papel, who is literally still reckless; the gentle and cute little lady Galimede.

Snow, who seemed like she might throw herself off a cliff at any moment if someone didn’t quickly reach out a hand to her.

His mother, who had lived her entire life looking only at her four children.

And, no matter what, his father, whom he couldn’t ultimately forsake in his heart.

He just had a frightening thought.

Snow couldn’t possibly be Freia, but still. If by any chance. If it were really true. Then what should Elios do?

Elios loved Snow. Snow was Freia, and Freia had suffered terribly before dying. Even after death, she was called a witch. Yet Elios, knowing this fact, was hesitating to proudly reveal it to people. He had no choice.

Did he even have the right to love Snow?

If he revealed everything, the imperial family and the temple would become hostile to each other, perhaps the families that once followed the old Nigritia would rebel and rise up, and all of these factors combined would shake the empire.

The existence of the witch had greatly influenced the entire empire for the past 20 years. And now to reveal that it was merely a rumor created by humans.

The temple and the imperial family would become hostile, and enemy countries at the borders would invade Akelan, which had lost the temple. Even if the calamity ended, Akelan would be devastated. Revealing the truth would take just a moment, but its ripple effect would be truly enormous.

Elios covered his eyes with his arm, fist clenched. The world felt terribly harsh and overwhelming. He couldn’t act either way. A hot, painful emotion welled up suddenly.

♣ ♣ ♣

Crown Prince Ikanel, who went down to the prison, asked about the condition of the most serious criminal in this prison right now.