#10. At the End of the Season (4)

Afternoon sunlight slanted in through the enormous window.

The weather in the capital, Rutes, was more like early summer than late spring. The midday sun was that intense.

As a result, the sharp sunlight streaming through the office’s large window and falling across the desk was almost hot rather than warm.

Even so, the man sitting blankly at his desk in that sunlight had not moved for hours.

Perhaps it was because his hair, long enough to brush his nape, was silver rather than dark. Julian did not so much as blink beneath the scorching sunlight pouring down behind him.

He simply twirled a silver fountain pen, the same color as his hair, around his slender fingers, his beautiful hand stretched out before him like a woman’s.

‘I picked one out in the same color as our hair, Julian.’

The fountain pen was a precious gift his mother, Louise, had given him just after he came of age, back when she could still speak with him.

If he fumbled and let it slip from his hand, the slender silver barrel would surely get scratched.

Whenever his heart felt troubled like this, Julian sometimes handled his precious treasure roughly.

The silver fountain pen was still pristine, so either he had rarely felt troubled or his hands were remarkably deft.

“Haa….”

Then a deep sigh filled the sun-heated office. His face was filled with an indescribable frustration as he sighed.

The conversation he’d had with his old friend a few hours ago.

At the end of their conversation, which had gone nowhere, Christian had faced Julian with an unusually serious expression.

‘Don’t take your relationship with the young lady lightly. This isn’t just your revenge at stake.’

After leaving those words behind, Christian had walked out of the office.

Julian glanced at the clock on one corner of the large desk. Its hands had moved quite a bit since he last remembered looking. He had spent all that time trying to sort out his thoughts, but his mind was still just as tangled.

Christian’s words weren’t wrong.

It had certainly begun with Julian alone.

When he had first harbored a desire for revenge against the father who had left his precious mother to wither away in a cage, Christian had come to his side.

When he had gone south at the Emperor’s command, wearing a mask of loyalty, a gaunt man had met his gaze with emotionless eyes.

After that, one by one, those who had lost something precious to the ever-growing monster that was the Empire began gathering around Julian.

Just as Christian had said in those final words.

His revenge no longer belonged to him alone.

Julian got to his feet. Leaving behind the sound of the chair legs scraping across the marble floor, he walked from behind his desk to the large window where the sunlight poured in.

Claiming he wanted to keep an eye on each and every citizen, the first Minister of the Interior had built the Ministry’s headquarters in a rather tall building atop Parliament Hill. Of course, the real reason was that he didn’t want to be in the same place as the Ministry of War.

Thanks to that, Julian could look down over the entire capital, Rutes, from his office.

Gazing at the densely packed buildings lining the streets, Julian let out a quiet sigh.

“Eleonore Ariena de Béarn.”

Julian murmured the name softly.

The Empire had grown far too large.

The Emperor had ascended to the highest heavens, and the Imperial Family had removed every means of following him there, one by one, to preserve their power.

As a result, no matter how desperately they struggled below, they couldn’t even brush the heavens with their fingertips. With their strength as it stood, bringing down this well-ordered system was all but impossible.

That was why they needed Eleonore.

Eleonore Béarn was certainly a tool. What Julian and his followers needed wasn’t her, but her background.

That had been the case until she fell ill with a fever; before that, she had followed him around like the other young ladies.

That was certainly what Julian himself had thought, too.

When had it started? That way of thinking had begun to change, little by little. Somewhere beyond his awareness, the platinum-haired woman had slowly taken root in his heart.

There was the way she’d looked at the debutante ball, her platinum hair glittering over her white dress, and how adorably flustered she’d been when he kissed the back of her hand.

There was the look she’d given him when he stopped the scum who had tried to lay a hand on her.

And there was her face, blushing at the name Eli as they walked side by side through the mansion gardens on a dark night.

Without even realizing it, Julian had slowly been drawn in by her shyness, her smile, and her eyes.

In the end, that was why he’d reacted so sensitively to Christian earlier.

Ever since he’d returned to the capital after slaughtering the Shilobs at the mine, Julian had felt strangely unsettled.

No. It must have begun when he saw her in the Grand Duke’s arms. Ever since seeing Eleonore rest her head against the Grand Duke’s broad chest, Julian had been unable to control the unfamiliar feeling of jealousy that still felt so awkward to him.

She’d looked at me that way at the ball. And yet there she was, being held so tenderly by another man.

Of course, it had been because of the Shilob’s poison.

The office was still quiet. His red eyes were fixed on some distant point beyond the window, somewhere far out in the suburbs. His clenched fist trembled with tension.

#.

Eleonore sat on the edge of the bed, her pale face flushed red. Her white blouse was half-unbuttoned, leaving her full, pale breasts exposed.

Of course, the only people in the room were Eleonore, Eugenie, and a young priestess from the temple.

Eleonore had bared herself before a woman she didn’t know for one reason only: to have her wound treated.

Eleonore’s breasts were not so large as to make her look heavy, nor so small as to spoil her figure.

The softly rounded breasts rising just the right amount above her ribcage were beautiful in shape, just like her face.

At the tips of the pink peaks rising slightly from her breasts, her nipples, flushed as red as her face, stood out proudly.

Whenever she became aware of her own body, those raised peaks grew even stiffer and more sensitive, creating a vicious cycle that kept her face burning red.

Haa… I hope I’m not getting wet…

Fortunately, Eugenie and the young priestess were standing behind Eleonore, so she assumed they probably couldn’t see her like this.

But Eleonore didn’t realize that her ears, too, were flushed red along with her face. Normally, she would surely have felt them burning, but she was already overwhelmed by those firm, raised pink peaks.

So both Eugenie behind her and the priestess treating her wound could immediately tell from the young lady’s flushed ears that she was embarrassed.

Normally, Eugenie would have teased her about it.

But for now, the wound came first.

A scar would be terribly upsetting for a young lady who had only just made her debut.

Beneath her white veil, the priestess tilted her head in puzzlement as she held both hands together over the wound on Eleonore’s delicate shoulder blade.

“How strange. When I saw you before, your body didn’t respond to divine power at all.”

A stream of white light flowed from her fingertips, spreading over the reddened wound. At the cool, almost chilly sensation covering her shoulder, Eleonore’s slender shoulder trembled.

“I-It’s working?”

For some reason, Eugenie was stammering.

“Yes. You seem to be even more receptive than most people. How strange… When you were suffering from the fever, you definitely repelled divine power.”

Well, the person inside her had changed. Wasn’t that why?

In the mirror on the vanity, Eleonore stared in surprise at Eugenie and the young priestess standing behind her.

But I don’t even believe in gods…

In truth, Eleonore had never been particularly interested in religion. In Seo Juha’s life, Seo Juha and the family had kept their distance from religion and fortune-telling, considering them unscientific.

But things were different now.

To begin with, possessing the body of a character in a novel’s world was already something impossible.

Besides, after the mana-based treatment she’d experienced from time to time, and now feeling the power called divine power for herself, something akin to reverence for the gods had risen unbidden in her heart.

“Does this sort of thing happen often to our young lady?”

Eugenie, whose expression had been stiff for a while now, asked the priestess in a quiet voice. Divine power worked on her, and her scar would disappear now—so why did Eugenie look so troubled?

“It does happen, but it’s an unusual case. Hmm… The only famous example I can think of is Saint Etheldreda.”

A soft glow streamed from the priestess’s fingertips as she continued speaking.

“Surely this is all thanks to the Goddess Epona watching over you? A scar on such a beautiful young lady! Whoever did this will surely be struck by divine punishment!”

Judging by how she said such embarrassing things without batting an eyelid, Albris must have paid a pretty penny.

Setting aside reverence for the gods, the temples in this world were just as steeped in capitalism as modern hospitals.

The treatment, performed by channeling divine power, was over before long.

When Eleonore had put her blouse back on and turned around, the young priestess looked considerably more haggard than when they had first met.