Wreath of Lilies, Cauldron of Poison

Chapter 78

Desperate Measures are Taken

After the miraculous event, the people gradually dispersed and returned to their homes. Their hearts were full of joy and gladness. Now that the Ceremony was finished, all that was left would be the Royal Ball. Which would be held later in the evening.

Right now, the newly anointed Maiden of Water was resting on the bed of the small bedroom she borrowed with a wet cloth upon her head, tended upon by Henrietta. As a girl and as a devoted person of the Faith, she was the closest person in her circle that Allenca could confidently call a dear friend, therefore she was allowed to be there.

“What you did was a miracle worthy of the History Books, Your Eminence!”

“Allenca, please. Call meee…just like I aaasked…you when weee…are alone,” the girl said.

“A – ah, very well. Allenca.”

“Good…and yeees, it is a miracle...one that I hope…I dooon’t have to do…again anytime…soon.”

“I am not well versed in the matter of magic and such, Allenca. But I do know that what you did took a lot out of you.”

Three knocks came from the door. Hurried and rash.

“Cooome…in.”

And in came the familiar bulk of the Cardinal Deacon Babblebrook, his feet stepping inside with forceful stride. His face stiff.

“Can you leave us alone, Lady Henrietta? I need to speak with the Lady alone,” the man said haltingly, as if a dam at the verge of bursting.

“But…”

The Maiden of Water tapped on her hand and nodded lightly. Henrietta then excused herself and closed the door behind her.

“Your Eminence…” the man started as he pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “You – you have destroyed everything that we had worked for these 3 long years.”

Allenca removed the cloth from her face and slowly drew herself up. “I am…sorry.”

“We have sacrificed many things for this plan! The concessions! The compromise! I had to steal the ring from the Treasury! The very ring that was crafted by the Dwarf King in celebration of Pilagius the II’s merit during the signing of the Jawharl Coast Treaty!”

“…”

“Can you imagine what they will do to me once I got back? The other Cardinal Deacons in the Headquarters will tear me to bits! And the Pope?! What would she think?!” the man spat out his resentment without stopping. All the girl could do was listen.

“I will…tell them…that it was my…iiidea.”

The man clasped his hands together and shook it forward as he talked. “It’s not about that, Your Eminence. It’s not about that. I am ready for the punishment if it was worth it. If it was for something concrete. If you had used your power to seal the deal - even if it means my death - I would welcome my end gladly.”

“But what you did undermine the sacrifices we made,” the fat man then asked. “So now I have to ask you. Why? Why did you do that? We could have stopped this fake alliance and truly move forward with our mission!!”

“The Hero…told me…about his vision…of the fuuuture. Of the disaster…that wooould happen…if I go through with it. Then I…decided to gamble…on the people’s faith.”

Hearing this, Babblebrook shook his head in disappointment. He could not wholly fault her, but that did not mean that she could not handle it differently. And then he realized - perhaps a bit too late - that for the grandness of her dream, or the sacrifice that she would be willing to do, she was still young. She was still too young.

He failed to see that. Damn that Hero. Damn him to hell! May the demons of Sud-Ghazid take him!

The fat man took a deep breath - so deep that his fat stomach heaved along with his chest – then exhaled with such force that his fat proceeded to settle. “…alright. Fine. That’s fine. Everything is fine. Then what is our next move?”

“You are…not aaangry…anymore?” The Maiden asked quizzically.

“Of course, I’m angry. I am furious! But I’m used to this,” the man laughed weakly. “Your predecessor used to do even crazier stuff than you,” he gave her a cursory glance and shrugged. “In her later years she did mellow out; but you cannot imagine what I had to go through when she appointed me as her assistant,” the man’s lips twitched as he tried to dislodge the shameful memories that appeared in his head. “But that’s why you need people like me. People in the administration. So that if things go to the proverbial hell, someone will have a way to survive through this.”

“The problem is the Royal Ball. Now that you have shown your power - which I didn’t wholly agree – you have become a threat. Not just for the Nobles of Calendia, but also from other countries. Especially now that the Demons have shown themselves within our boundary, your life is in even more danger than before. We need to assign you guards.”

“Thaat…will not…work.”

“I know,” Babblebrook said. At this point his speech began to gain composure. “Our Church Knights will not be enough, especially after we lost the Captain. But I also cannot trust the Knights of the Kingdom. We need someone strong enough to be a real deterrent, but also of high status. To show that you are not estranged to the ways of the court. To show that you are willing to work together with the Kingdom.”

“Buuut…who? I cannot taaake…anyone who is tied…tooo either side…of the faaaction.”

“The Neutral Faction then.”

“Hooow…about the…Heeero?”

“He has been gathering too many support these days. It won’t be good for us,” the Cardinal Deacon said. However, that was only a part of it. He did not want her to have too much contact with the Hero. Being too reliant on the Hero’s Cheat would make her weak.

“III…have…an idea.”

“Urg…” the man groaned. “You mean…” A disgustingly handsome face appeared in his head. “Anyone but her, Your Eminence! She is a self-centered, arrogant girl who kills people like weeding a garden! And don’t forget! She is the Prince’s Ex-Fiancee!”

“Someone…whooo has no chance ooof…being on either faction…whooo despise the Royal Family. Who is…strooong enough to kill…a Named Demon alone. Whooo…is also…ooof high…status.”

“Urgh…Junnaveil helps us…”

“This…iiis desperate times…Babblebrook,” a smile of confidence appeared on her pale face. “And deeesperate times…calls for…desperate…measures.”

It was well past lunch and Connie and her little group of merry friends were having an afternoon drink at the Inn while having a nice conversation about the morning’s spectacle.

“You know what, the two of you?” Connie said suddenly. “We should go to the Ball.”

“What? Why? I thought you don’t want to go,” Illumca said. “You said that it’s too troublesome. Also, the Prince and his fiancée - the one who plotted to kill you – will be there.”

“Yeah. I don’t think it’s a good idea. Plus, you need an invitation to be able to attend.”

“I did say that. But hear me out,” she said, pointing at the two of them using her beer mug. “I have a reason why I need to go to the Ball.”

“And what is this reason?” Illumca asked, biting into a piece of crusty bread with her small mouth and chewed it lightly. It was not a good bread, but it was filling. Unlike Connie who could fast for weeks, at the current stage of her cultivation, the dark elf was still reliant on food.

“Because I - ” she placed her mug on the table and craned forward. One leg raised onto her seat with a meaty thunk. “I want to watch a show.”

“A show, what show?” Martell asked, his expression mirroring Illumca’s. One of question.

“A cold war between the Factions, the Royal Family, and the Faith. That kind of show,” she took a large swig and waved it at the Innkeeper, who flinched and quickly refilled her mug. The people around her tried to not look at the girl who killed people with a piece of sausage just last night.

Strangely enough, that day the sausages sold so well that they were out of them by the first hour of opening since the end of the Coming of Age Ceremony.

“After the spectacle Allenca gave them, there is no way that the Factions and the Royal Family will stay silent,” she said with a smidge of glee in her voice. “And I want to be there to see the show firsthand. It is going to be entertaining!”

“That’s a horrible hobby, Connie. Not that I would expect any less from you,” Illumca said.

“I don’t know why you’d want to go to the tiger’s nest. But still, you need an invitation. And that means you have to go with your family.”

“Do you suppose it’s too late for me if I want to go to your house and off your stepmother?” Illumca asked rather hopefully. “Just say the word. I can look for the invitation then.”

“No. Not now. It’s gong to be a bit conspicuous if you do that. A dead stepmother and the stepdaughter suddenly go to the Ball with the invitation?” she said rhetorically.

“I just…really want to end her,” she said seriously. And it was true, aside from the one who caused her to live like she did, Joan Carell was the only person she had met that made her want to kill so bad.

“We’ll figure something out.”

“Even so, Connie. Do you have any support there? If these hum - people are as disgusting as you said, they will ridicule you,” Martell said. He knew how disgustingly piggish these Nobles could be when they find someone to bully.

“Hah! When had I ever let vile words and unsavory comments disturb me?

It was then that a couple of men came in. One of them was the lanky Church Knight that Connie had remembered due to him being the only one in a constant state of nervousness, Deacon Peterson. And the other one was Henrietta’s personal manservant, Barnaby.

“Lady…Cornelia…I am glad. That we found you,” Deacon Peterson said, red faced. Huffing and puffing as if he had run a full marathon.

“That you have. But how did you know that I’m here? I didn’t tell Henrietta or the Church where I was staying.”

“You are not exactly a hard person to find, Lady Connie,” the male servant said politely. “Destroying an underground gang in one night with a piece of sausage is something people will talk about.”

“That is true,” Martell said.

“Mhm,” Illumca nodded, agreeing with the observation.

Connie shrugged and shook her head with an expression of amusement. “What can I say? Trouble seems to find me everywhere I go,” she rubbed her chin and raised her thin eyebrow. “So, any reason why you want to find me?”

“Y – yes. Here it is, Lady Cornelia. A letter from the Maiden of Water,” Peterson said, nervously handing a letter stamped with red wax. A sign of urgency.

Martell took the letter and handed it to Connie, who opened it gingerly. The paper smelled faintly of flowers. Lilies, I think.

After reading the contents, Connie looked at the two of them and asked. “Do you two know what her request is?”

“Yes. Her Eminence wanted you to be her escort to the Royal Ball. The letter is there only for proof of Her Eminence’s request. This is how serious Her Eminence is, Lady Cornelia,” the manservant said.

“…you do realize that I am a woman, right? Escorting a lady is a job for a man. Don’t tell me that you cannot find a man with good enough status to do that,” she said as she pressed her back onto the seat and crossed her legs the way an uncouth person would. “She is breathtakingly beautiful, with enough bounty on her chest to put most women to shame. I am sure there is no red-blooded man that would refuse to escort her in this Kingdom.”

“And that is the problem,” Deacon Peterson said after chugging down a mug of ale.

“Ah, they have dicks,” Martell said succinctly in understanding.

“You do realize that you are asking me; The ex-fiancee of the Prince, stepdaughter of the most used woman in the Kingdom, and a scorned woman, to escort the Maiden of Water to a Ball. Where I will most certainly meet more enemies than friends?”

All those words sounded negative, but Illumca knew from the rising of her tone that her companion had already made the choice. Now she was just milking it.

“W-well, if you put it that way…” Henrietta’s servant and the Church Knight by his side sweated profusely. They did not dare think about what would happen to them if the fickle person before them refused.

“T – the Maiden said that all the cost in fulfilling her request will be handled by the Church.”

“…hoh, so she thinks she knows me, huh? Does she think that I am that cheap?”

“That is just a proof of friendship, Lady Cornelia,” Barnaby said. “The Maiden said that she will owe you one.”

“Having the leader of the Kingdom’s Religious Leader owe me one does sound attractive,” Connie said with a wink at Martell, who realized that one problem had been solved. And now she was just making it count.

“All expenses paid, eh?”

Connie read the letter once again, a devilish smile blooming on her face.

Oh, this is going to be…expensive.