“Good heavens, what are you doing? We have no grudge between us, so why are you trying to kill me?”
Lynch had to exert quite a bit of effort to barely break free. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been willing to let go.
Regardless of looks or figure, this woman was top-tier. Fragrant and soft, she exuded a mature charm from head to toe, like a ripe plum, translucent and sweet through and through, making one want to swallow her whole.
But doing so would choke him to death. Lynch had nearly suffocated just now—this woman was far too dangerous.
Luckily, she didn't take things any further. After an enthusiastic hug, she took a step back. Though the other women looked eager to try their luck, they didn't act on it, merely staring at Lynch with smiles like a pack of foxes eying a coop of plump chickens.
It gave Lynch the distinct impression he had stepped into a spider's den, prompting an unnamed female Watcher to yank the bewildered young man behind her, blocking those burning gazes.
Hiss... Officer, let me explain! I've never met her before in my life! You'll believe me if I say she made the first move, right?
Feeling his life was still under severe threat, Lynch felt like weeping without tears. Unfortunately, no one sympathized with his pain and torment. The clergy members, whether familiar or strangers, were all watching the spectacle with amused expressions.
You big shots add up to nearly five hundred years old, yet you're ganging up on a twenty-year-old youth! Where's your sense of decency?
Thankfully, the kindly Mrs. Nightingale clapped her hands with a look of mock regret, putting an end to the farce.
Only then did Lynch learn that, unlike in Lande, a hug was standard formal etiquette between men and women in Friedman.
That damn country was completely different from Lande. Men and women in Lande were always restrained—handshakes were practically nonexistent, and hand-kissing was reserved for special occasions. But in Friedman, hugs were commonplace and just the baseline. Beyond that were cheek kisses, and then... no, nothing else!
Of course, people from Friedman were simply passionate and romantic, not uncouth lunatics. They wouldn't normally startle foreigners so badly. However, Lynch, dressed in fine attire, was tall and handsome, and his admirer happened to be a devout follower of Mica, the Joyful Maiden.
This church had always championed freedom, self-liberation, casting off restraint, and following one's heart. Ethics and conventional morality were of little concern to them.
It was divine oracle, which naturally superseded mortal morality.
Upon detailed inquiry, Lynch learned that although the two nations shared a complex history of enmity, the relationship between their respective churches was actually quite good. The reason this crisis had progressed so smoothly, besides the sheer severity of the matter, was largely because the four churches across the strait had given their full cooperation. They had set an example for the other four churches of the major gods, prompting them to set aside their grudges and cooperate in good faith.
Collecting the medicine was a monumental undertaking. Leaving it solely to the rival governments, who were constantly scheming against one another, would inevitably lead to major trouble. Consequently, all Churches of the Twelve Major Gods sent representatives to Rhine City to coordinate. Friedman, being the closest, had arrived first. Representatives from the other four major churches—Oceans, Sky, War, and Crafts—were still en route and expected to arrive in a few days.
Huh? Since everyone's here, why are you all still standing around like statues? You let that weird big sister tease me for nothing!
Seeing the crowd standing there casually chatting without any intention of leaving, Lynch was somewhat puzzled. Is there something else? Surely they aren't just standing here to admire this grand spectacle of all nations paying homage?
Then again, it was indeed lively. A grand occasion like this came once in a century. As long as no major mishaps occurred, Lande stood to reap immense benefits.
“Why else do you think Her Highness Princess Sophia suddenly decided after the ball to stay a few extra days until the twentieth before returning to Norin?” Diana, unable to hold back any longer, slid over to Lynch's side and explained in a low murmur upon hearing his grumbling. “She stayed to oversee the situation. After the twentieth, the delegates from the major nations should all be here, and the situation will have stabilized. Then she can accompany the representatives of key friendly nations north to pay homage to His Majesty Emperor Rudolph, and incidentally attend Prince William's investiture ceremony.”
“I see.” Lynch sighed inwardly. This was likely why his late father-in-law hadn't brought his wife and daughter along back then. “The world of politicians is truly complicated.”
“Once you arrive in Norin, I'm afraid you'll have to face this complexity quite often.” Miss Diana's eyes suddenly darted between Lynch and Natalie. “By the way... why are you two here together? Were you having a secret rendezvous?”
“Didn't I tell you yesterday? We went to the cemetery.”
The count's daughter sniffed the air slightly and flashed a meaningful smile at Natalie. “Nice perfume. A classic from Malcolan. Though that master perfumer stopped producing this five years ago—it must be quite a treasured collection.”
???
Natalie wore perfume today?
Did I get perfume scent on me?
No way, are women really this sharp?
Cold sweat poured down Lynch's back. In his panic, he committed the stupidest act of his life.
He subconsciously raised his hand to sniff the palm he had held earlier, then leaned over to sniff the shoulder that had pressed against hers.
Immediately after, he felt the air around him freeze solid. He looked up, only to catch the reverent gazes directed at him from everyone around—eyes filled with solemn remembrance and reluctant farewells.
“Wait... I can explain!”
Unfortunately, opportunities only came once. Natalie's face was flushed red as she gripped the hilt of her sword, while Diana merely covered her mouth, smiling with deep amusement, though a trace of relief flickered in her eyes.
Luckily, the presence of outsiders saved a life on the brink. Both women huffed softly, leaned in together to whisper and chatter, and left Lynch completely out in the cold.
Whoever was the first to call this kind of situation a 'blessing,' step forward right now. I promise I won't beat you to death.
Whatever. As long as I'm not embarrassed, the embarrassment belongs to others.
Lynch gave a couple of dry coughs, leaned over to the two, and asked, “Why did you come along too? Are you waiting for someone?”
“Normally, I wouldn't participate,” Diana replied, “but these are extraordinary times and we're short-staffed. Besides, today required someone of my background to step forward.”
As she spoke, another noisy group approached from the direction of the docks. Miss Diana offered an apologetic smile to the two, straightened her posture, resumed her refined demeanor as a noble lady, and walked back into the crowd of clergy.
Then, while the local clergy remained in place, Diana alone accompanied the high-ranking leaders of the visiting churches to greet the newcomers.
As they drew near, Lynch could finally see them clearly. The newcomers were lavishly dressed in a style similar to Lande's. Decades of people surrounded a child around ten years old, merging with the welcoming clergy.
“Ah, I get it now,” Natalie said in realization. “These must be the official representatives of Friedman. They arrived on the same fleet as the church delegations, but needed extra paperwork for entry, so they were delayed a step. I've seen that child's photograph—he's the youngest son of King Carlos VII of Friedman. Rumor has it he's the most likely candidate to become the next king of Friedman.”
Lynch understood. Friedman was also a major power, so diplomatic protocol had to be respected. However, given the delicate relations between the two nations, neither Princess Sophia nor other Lande nobles could conveniently greet them in person without risking accusations of colluding with the enemy. Handling it through inter-church reception was far better. Yet it couldn't be done entirely under the church's name either, which was why Diana had to step up. A noble lady, a member of the church, a Soul Severer with a relatively detached status, and thoroughly versed in noble etiquette—just as she had said, today required someone of her standing.
Yet within two minutes, Miss Diana and the prince of Friedman turned their gazes toward him.
Huh? Why are you looking at me? I'm just a passing spectator. Lynch watched in total bewilderment as the prince puffed out his chest and strode over with long strides. Though his face was full of childish innocence, his tone was ridiculously grandiloquent:
“Are you Sir Lynch Levive?”
“Ah, yes.”
“My royal grandmother instructed me to express our gratitude to you on behalf of the royal family.”
“Huh?”
Lynch was even more bewildered. But when he saw Archbishop Trinlais winking at him discreetly from the background, he instantly remembered: when he had retrieved Red Moon Memories back then, they had used the excuse that it was a stolen birthday gift for Friedman's Queen Mother. The boomerang had finally swung back to hit him.
At least it's not a bad thing... but how am I supposed to respond?
“There is no need for formality. You have rendered a great service to our nation, and you are welcome to visit us anytime in the future. I am my royal father's third son, Louis. When you arrive, you may seek me out directly.”
What did you say your name was? Louis? Are you really not going to consider changing it? Even if you change it to Charlie, it'd be better!
Rate on N.U.
