Roseliel looked at Lucia, who was scratching her head, and her mind raced as she brainstormed how to inadvertently provide her with clues.
She understood Lucia’s current dilemma all too well. Unlike the material concerning "Executioner," the content in the letters regarding "Drunkard" was extremely fragmented—scattered snippets about the kingdom’s recent affairs, Holy See movements, discussions on Snake Cult doctrine, sacrifice ritual standards, and records of some evil god spells.
Not a single clue directly narrowed down the scope. There were simply too many people who could have access to such things; investigating them one by one would take an eternity.
While Roseliel was racking her brains over this, another conversation was taking place in a restaurant on the other side of Aetherland.
“This time, I truly owe you a favor.”
Rudolph von Rosenwal, dressed in inconspicuous plain clothes, held up a wine glass and gave a slight nod to the person opposite him.
The lighting in the private room was dim and intimate, with only two simple dishes on the table, as if deliberately avoiding making this meeting seem too formal.
However, the person across from him didn't seem inclined to accept the gesture, their tone as indifferent as if they were discussing an inconsequential matter. “If you went to all this trouble to call me out just for this, a letter would have sufficed.”
In all of Leonis, those who would dare to decline a toast from Rudolph probably numbered fewer than ten.
But if anyone recognized the person sitting across the table at this moment, they would realize it wasn't out of arrogance, but rather because he truly had the standing to do so.
That man was the head of the Aetherland diocese, the Bishop known as the “Semi-Cardinal,” Seraphin.
“Rudolph, you know me. No need for such pleasantries; just get straight to business.”
His tone was casual, like talking to an old friend of many years.
“You’re still the same as ever.” Rudolph smiled and said no more.
From the first time they met over forty years ago, he knew how straightforward this man's temperament was. Now, it seemed time hadn't smoothed his edges at all.
“But this really isn't just pleasantry; it's my heartfelt thanks.” Rudolph drained his glass in one gulp. “Whether it’s for my daughter or for myself.”
“Then you should thank your daughter properly. It was her own actions that moved the Goddess and earned her the chance to prove herself.”
At the mention of his daughter, Rudolph showed a rare moment of hesitation. “Is she... truly innocent?”
“You don’t believe your own daughter?”
“Based on the information I currently possess, it isn’t enough to trust her completely.”
With this old friend, Rudolph held nothing back.
Seraphin was silent for a moment before slowly speaking, “If even the Goddess did not execute her, then I believe there is even less reason for us to do so.”
Seraphin’s words served as a reassuring pill for Rudolph.
Rudolph’s tensed shoulders finally relaxed slightly. “That’s good to hear.”
He picked up his glass and took a sip, his expression gaining a rare touch of ease. A hint of a smile crept onto the corners of his mouth without him even realizing it.
Seraphin offered a rare bit of teasing. “If The Sun caught a picture of you just now, I expect the entire front page tomorrow would be nothing but you.”
Rudolph froze for a moment, then gave a bitter smile. “I only speak like this at times like these. I am not a good father; I bear no small amount of responsibility for things developing to this point.”
Seraphin neither agreed nor disagreed; he simply said, “The burden of raising a child is no smaller than the Goddess creating humanity. Children have their own thoughts; we can only do our best to support them, but they must walk their own path.”
“Sigh.” The iron-blooded Chancellor, whose mere wave of a hand could affect millions, sighed again and silently poured himself a third glass of wine.
“Speaking of children...” Rudolph put down the wine bottle. “How is yours doing?”
Seraphin smiled slightly. “Thanks to yours, not so great.”
Rudolph was somewhat at a loss for words; this friend of his was still as sharp as ever.
As a seasoned politician, he could hear at least two layers of meaning.
First was a criticism of Roseliel’s past bullying of Lucia at the academy.
Second was the mess Roseliel had created, which had left Lucia exhausted over the past few days.
As a politician, his instinct was to avoid difficult questions, but as a friend, he spoke up anyway:
“On behalf of Roseliel and myself, I apologize to you and to Lucia.”
But Seraphin did not accept it. “Save those words to say to the child in person.”
Rudolph didn't persist. He continued, “Was your agreement to let Roseliel join the investigation really just because she asked?”
Regarding the answer to this question, he already had some inkling when Roseliel reported back and mentioned Lucia and Seraphin.
And now that his old friend had actually been willing to attend this dinner, he felt his guess was likely about ninety percent correct.
Now, it was only for final confirmation.
And to get an answer to one question.
“Lucia needs help.” Hearing this question, Seraphin’s expression finally underwent a subtle change. “You know my reputation as well; she needs some external support.”
“I think someone might be competing with me for the front page of The Sun tomorrow.”
Rudolph joked, looking nothing like his usual self.
Seraphin looked at him with a face full of impatience.
“In all seriousness, I don’t understand.” Rudolph dropped his joking tone. “I can guess you want to find her an ally, but why me? Or rather, why Roseliel? I don't think they make a good pair.”
Rudolph had seen the child Lucia many times. She was easygoing, gentle, cheerful, charismatic, and had a strong sense of justice.
As an elder, Rudolph very much hoped his daughter could learn from her.
As for his own daughter, Rudolph knew her all too well. Although she seemed to have grown a bit recently, her personality was fundamentally difficult to change.
Seraphin remained silent for a while before answering, “If I had to say, it was the Goddess’s guidance.”
Rudolph frowned, clearly unsatisfied with the answer. “An alliance requires trust. I do not wish to senselessly let my family and my daughter step into danger.”
“I am not patronizing you.” Seraphin spoke solemnly. “In fact, to this day, I still do not fully understand why Roseliel did not die that day.”
“Her sophistry might be able to deceive me, but it is absolutely impossible to deceive the Goddess.”
“You might not believe me if I say this, but that day, when she made her oath beneath the divine statue...”
Seraphin’s expression was more serious than ever before. “I seemed to feel the gaze of the Goddess.”
Rudolph’s mouth moved slightly, his face filled with disbelief.
Rate on N.U.
