Chapter 129
#Chapter 129: Beggar Gritz (5) - Bustling
“I want to see the head of the family.”
In response to Grace’s audacious request, the butler responded in an utterly businesslike manner.
“The head of the family is currently occupied with work. If you need anything, please tell me or one of the servants.”
“You wouldn’t be able to decide something like that on your own anyway.”
“I shall listen with the utmost attention.”
His attitude seemed to say that he would listen first and then decide whether it was something he could handle himself.
Grace stared steadily at the butler for a moment, then shrugged and said,
“I want to hold a banquet.”
“…What sort of banquet do you mean?”
“Why, of course, a banquet to celebrate my becoming a proper priestess and serving the Guardian Deity.”
A faint look of bewilderment appeared on the butler’s face, which had been pretending to remain impassive.
The other servants waiting silently nearby reacted similarly.
Although they could not openly discuss it in public, even Carnelian knew that the citizens regarded the priestess as half a living sacrifice.
If livestock raised on a ranch suggested holding a festival to commemorate the day they would be slaughtered, would you not want to ask whether they had lost their minds?
But they could not ask that openly.
At least according to the Carnelian family’s official stance, becoming a priestess was an extremely honorable and glorious matter.
Therefore, Grace was able to insist with shameless confidence.
“When you think about it, everyone in this domain makes their living thanks to the Guardian Deity and us priestesses, right? Isn’t that so?”
“…That is true.”
“Then naturally there should be an event where everyone celebrates and rejoices over that blessing. It’s stranger that no one has suggested anything like this until now.”
The butler seemed to hesitate for a while, but eventually acknowledged that this was not something he could handle on his own and passed the decision upward.
“Understood. I shall ask the head of the family.”
“Please answer as quickly as possible. If I’m to be the star of the event, I have all sorts of preparations to make, too.”
As though she had not noticed the strange looks around her at all, Grace headed toward her room with a decidedly majestic stride.
Yet once she entered her room and could escape those gazes, she collapsed onto the bed and let out a strange groan of “Uaaagh.”
Covering her forehead with her right arm and staring up at the ceiling, Grace thought back to the conversation she had shared with Gritz earlier.
***
“…You want me to suggest holding a banquet myself? Was it really that annoying having me cling to you all this time?”
“I’m not making you do it to vent my anger, you bitch.”
“If it’s not venting your anger, then what on earth made you order me to do something so strange?”
“Because if you make them do some foolish thing like a festival or banquet, their attention and manpower will be drawn elsewhere.”
Even a small party held by inviting a few people into one’s home required attention to all sorts of things, from food to tidying up the house.
How much manpower, wealth, and energy would a banquet hosted by the ruler of the domain to honor its Guardian Deity consume?
Naturally, gaps would appear here and there, and Gritz explained that this would make it easier for him to cause trouble behind the scenes.
But even after hearing his explanation, Grace’s reaction was far from enthusiastic.
“I understand what you’re saying, but if it’s that difficult, Carnelian will simply ignore it.”
This was different from providing various forms of support to the orphanage or tossing her a few coins as an ‘allowance for maintaining her dignity.’
They indulged Grace’s various unreasonable demands because it was cheaper than suppressing everything and ruining the ritual, not because they genuinely respected or treated her as a priestess.
If she suggested using a large amount of the family’s resources, would they really take her seriously?
“They’ll listen.”
Yet contrary to Grace’s concerns, Gritz declared it without hesitation.
The Carnelian family would have no choice but to accept Grace’s demand.
More precisely, he said, they would consider accepting it beneficial.
“Why?”
“If the banquet is actually held and people see you enjoying yourself there, what do you think they’ll think?”
“That bitch has finally gone mad?”
“That is one correct answer.”
“You’re supposed to tell me it isn’t.”
Ignoring her grumbling, Gritz continued.
“But at the same time, some will begin to wonder whether the negative stories about priestesses are true. They’ll say, ‘Maybe it really is an honorable position, just as the rulers of this land claim.’”
“Oh, come on. People are much too perceptive for that.”
Grace furrowed her brow.
Because as far as she was concerned, it was absurd.
“No, you idiot. They believe it precisely because they’re perceptive. More accurately, they’ll want to believe it.”
The oak barrel containing Gritz bobbed from side to side.
For some reason, Grace felt as though the movement resembled him spitting and saying, “Ptui.”
“You can tell just by seeing how people here treat you, can’t you? They treat you that way because they think you’re a scapegoat, and because they’re the beneficiaries of your sacrifice. If they thank you, it feels like mockery, but rejecting you would be strange too. They couldn’t even lay a hand on the candidate who openly refused the position of priestess and brought about a famine, because they feared divine punishment. How do you think they’ll treat you, when you’ve accepted the priestess’s work?”
“……”
“What matters in a rumor isn’t how plausible it is. It’s how much people want its content to be true. So what if it’s somewhat dubious and lacks credibility? If the priestess’s position really is special and blessed, as Carnelian claims, then they no longer have to feel guilty.”
Grace opened and closed her mouth.
Though she thought she should respond with the usual appropriate agreement and keep the conversation going, the words did not come easily.
As if speaking for her, Gritz continued.
“If people feel uneasy about priestesses, that feeling affects the Guardian Deity and Carnelian too. Fear is a means of control, but it can’t draw out willing support. Besides, not every priestess will meekly follow their lead the way you do, will they?”
“Well, that….”
Grace gave an ambiguous affirmative.
She had heard that even her predecessor as priestess had been so overcome by fear and grief that she stopped eating and drinking, eventually being offered to the Guardian Deity in a state resembling a living corpse.
Compared to that, Grace—whose worst offense, despite everything, was merely being prickly with the servants—was practically a model student from Carnelian’s perspective.
“If they accept your proposal, they can turn around the unspoken negative public opinion, and managing future priestesses will become easier too. Unless the head of the family is an idiot incapable of seeing what benefits him, he’ll certainly go along with it.”
“What are you, Mr. Gritz? You seem to know far too much to be an ordinary beggar.”
“Instead of suspecting other people’s erudition, reflect on your own ignorance.”
“You really do have a way of saying things that makes me feel awful.”
For a moment, Grace puffed out her cheeks to show that she was sulking.
Then Grace asked in a low voice, almost as if muttering to herself.
“Will doing something like this really change anything? No, couldn’t things perhaps go in an even worse direction? What if my acquaintances end up suffering because of me?”
If things did not go as planned, the circumstances surrounding her would only grow worse.
No, from the standpoint of common sense, it was absurd to gamble on Gritz despite having known him for such a short time.
What could she possibly trust him enough to stake her life on?
That was why Grace wanted Gritz to declare it firmly.
She wanted him to tell her that there was no problem, that everything would be solved if she simply trusted him.
“You won’t know unless you try.”
But the mysterious beggar did not give Grace the answer she was hoping for.
“Maybe the rumors were really nothing more than rumors. Perhaps what awaits you isn’t the fate of a cruel living sacrifice but eternal life in some place called heaven or whatever. If you take on needless risks, you might only make your own life more difficult.”
Gritz’s voice was gentle.
So gentle that it was hard to believe it belonged to someone who had spent all this time hurling one scathing remark after another.
“If you meekly let yourself be carried along as you are now, you’ll retain your honor. A saintess who literally devoted her body for her family, city, and domain. A saint who had a way to survive, yet rejected it because she said she must not trouble others. How noble does that sound? If you can die with pride, saying, ‘I lived for others,’ right up until the moment you die, what a noble death that would be.”
And Grace realized that this was the fiercest contempt Gritz could express.
She also realized that the eyes hidden inside the barrel contained not even the slightest trace of warmth.
“As I am here and now, I’m as simple as a dog. I wag my tail at those who feed me and show me kindness, and bare my teeth at those who swing clubs and show me malice.”
“Some might call that stupidity. But I want to ask the opposite: then what kind of life is a wise life?”
“Is it wise to act as though poison doesn’t exist because it’s hidden among the food? Is it wise to say a club isn’t a club because it’s been covered in gold leaf?”
“Don’t look to others for the reason behind your actions. Don’t dress up the hesitation and pain inside you as being for someone else. What do you want? What do you hate? Think only about that.”
“I’ll ask one last time. What do you want to do?”
***
“Uuuugh….”
The events of that time came back to her afresh, and Grace covered her face with both hands and rolled around on the bed.
“Why did I have to start crying right then…?”
Was it the shame of having her innermost thoughts laid bare, or had she been moved by the hope that had slipped in while she was half resigned to her fate?
By now, even Grace herself could no longer tell which was the correct answer.
What mattered was that Grace had accepted Gritz’s plan, and there was no turning back anymore.
After flailing about in the room in a silent scream for some time,
Grace was finally able to sort out her confused emotions once she confirmed that an approving response had come from the head of the family.
Yeah.
Now she really had no choice but to try, whether it worked or not.
***
“The lord is holding a banquet?”
“I hear it’s a banquet to celebrate the day the priestess goes to the Guardian Deity?”
When the rumor first spread, the citizens of the city could not hide their bewilderment.
Unless they were children ignorant of the ways of the world or people who had deliberately shut their ears to what was happening around them, they all knew the circumstances surrounding the priestess.
But as Carnelian began investing money and manpower in earnest, those negative opinions inevitably grew weaker.
It was an age with few forms of entertainment. The chance to eat and drink to one’s heart’s content was, in itself, one of life’s rare pleasures.
Whatever the case with those who had some degree of acquaintance with Grace, those who had done nothing more than brush past her once or twice on the street quickly began climbing aboard this trend.
Merchants hurriedly prepared alcohol and food for the festival, while others finished their work ahead of time to create a little breathing room.
The entire domain grew boisterous, and busiest of all were the people of the Carnelian family, who were overseeing the festival.
“Damn it, is it really possible to finish preparations in just a week!?”
“Who managed the supplies? You’re supposed to use the old grain first—how could you use the newly harvested grain first?”
“Clean the plaza, and get the tents up, quickly! Everyone standing around doing nothing, run! We can hire people for the physical labor, but we have to handle the management ourselves, don’t we!!”
After hearing Grace’s proposal, the head of the family wanted this festival to become more than a one-time event—to become a regular occasion that would solidify Carnelian’s rule. That ambition and expectation flowed directly down to the burden and cries of the people beneath him.
Amid everyone’s frantic chaos,
“Huh? Where did the oak barrel that was here go?”
“What? Nine in total. That’s right, isn’t it?”
“Weren’t there ten?”
“Look at the paperwork. There are nine.”
“Damn, I must have been mistaken.”
The infiltration of a strange cardboard box—or rather, oak barrel—had begun.