The oblivious saint cant.., p.1
The Oblivious Saint Can't Contain Her Power, page 1
Table of Contents
Cover
Story and Characters
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Afterword
Color Illustrations
About J-Novel Club
Copyright
Chapter One
(Carolina)
Just days after the unfortunate situation with Prince Gilbert had been resolved, I found myself once again mingling with the Malcosian nobility. This time, it was at a tea party in the elegantly appointed salon of Countess Herbert. Her drawing room was a mosaic of ladies in dresses of all shapes and colors, buzzing with the honeyed tones of genteel conversation. I had a great deal of experience attending such events back in Celestia (though as an addendum to Flora, of course). I noted that the soirees of Malcosias shared a similar air—though perhaps one that was slightly more charged.
Countess Herbert, our esteemed hostess, publicly proclaimed herself to be a neutral arbiter in the ongoing succession debate, which meant that this gathering should have provided a reprieve from my usual fears of poison or covert assaults. (At least in theory.) The flip side of the coin, however, was that her stance of neutrality meant that the salon was a melting pot for the adherents of both the first and second prince’s factions. Their thinly veiled hostility towards each other added an undercurrent of tension to the air, an almost tangible frisson that made me sigh inwardly.
It was amid this sea of veiled enmities that my gaze inadvertently locked with a certain lady’s. She, for one, did not seem to appreciate the accidental eye contact.
“Goodness, Your Highness,” she simpered in a tone laced with feigned surprise. “One might almost interpret your expression as shading towards confusion.” She widened her eyes dramatically, a hand fluttering to her cheek in mock distress. “Oh, but how remiss of us! Only now has it occurred to me that our more localized topics of discussion might be a tad intricate for someone who has not been nurtured within the empire. It’s quite an oversight on our part to have neglected to consider the Celestian in our midst!” Her words were coated in a saccharine sympathy, her smile exquisitely condescending. “My apologies. We must seem so dreadfully insular.”
As if on cue, her retinue erupted in a symphony of polite yet unmistakably artificial laughter, which echoed throughout the room like a delicate, mocking breeze.
Her jabs, thinly veiled in mock politeness, were a none-too-subtle attempt to belittle my foreign origins, drawing a stark line between the lofty echelons of imperial society and an outsider like myself. Such a tactic was, in essence, rather juvenile, yet it wasn’t something I could outright dismiss—the speaker was none other than Lady Monica Arendt, the eldest daughter of Duke Arendt, one of the empire’s most eminent noble families.
The Arendt lineage had a storied history of producing valiant knights generation after generation, and for this reason the family was often referred to as “the sword of the empire.” The current duke exemplified this legacy as the leader of an order of knights known as the Scarletjade Kingdrakes. The household comprised several preeminent members of the first prince’s faction. The Arendts had supported Prince Gilbert even before Ed’s birth, which positioned them as a formidable force in the ongoing succession struggle. At this juncture, the extent of the Arendts’ involvement with the extremists remained ambiguous, but the possibility still demanded caution. One could never be too careful with such fervent supporters of Prince Gilbert, especially ones who had a less-than-stellar history with my husband.
The antagonism between Ed and the Arendts could be traced back to the ad hoc establishment and subsequent meteoric rise of the Pyreborn. Ed and Teodore, through their accomplishments, had inadvertently set themselves up as rivals to the Arendts, a family that had always taken immense pride in the martial prowess of their Kingdrakes. To them, the Pyreborn were nothing but a thorn in their side, a fly to be swatted in their pursuit of maintaining the emperor’s favor.
But did all that rivalry really warrant such blatant insults leveled towards me? Lady Monica certainly seemed to think so, as she pressed on undeterred. “That does bring something to mind that I’ve been so longing to ask you,” she mused with a sly tilt of her head. “I’m quite intrigued to learn more about your domestic bliss with Prince Edward. When someone manages to become so renowned as the ‘Bloodthirsty Prince’ on the battlefield, it does pique one’s curiosity about the nature of his...gentlemanly virtues in home life.”
Her smile, now tinged with a hint of malice, hardly concealed her contempt. Her pale green eyes shimmered with unspoken amusement as she gracefully swept a lock of her emerald-green hair behind her ear. Her youthful features, rather than softening her demeanor, seemed instead to amplify her spite, leaving no room to interpret her attitude as the subtly seductive allure of an older woman.
But no, she’d slandered not only me but Ed as well. How unpleasant. Lady Monica could’ve been the empress herself for all I cared; I would not tolerate such flagrant disrespect towards my husband.
“Yes, well, to appease what I’m sure are your most refined curiosities, Lady Monica, let me assure you—Ed and I find our union to be quite harmonious,” I said.
Her eyes briefly betrayed a flicker of surprise; she clearly hadn’t expected to hear such familiar terms of endearment between myself and the prince. I was gratified to sense that my reply seemed to have effectively countered her presumptuous prying, perhaps instilling in her the future impulse to take a moment of reflection before daring to venture into the personal affairs of others with such flagrant intrusiveness.
The air around me was soon filled with a chorus of subtly supportive comments from those aligned with the second prince’s faction:
“It’s quite unseemly, isn’t it, to so openly inquire into the intimate dynamics of newlyweds?”
“Truly, such conversations are not appropriate in polite society.”
“And yet, it’s rather delightful to hear of such affection between Their Imperial Highnesses so early in their marriage.”
Turning towards me with a blend of curiosity and respect, one lady inquired, “If I may be so bold, Your Highness, what affectionate moniker has Prince Edward bestowed upon you?”
The majority of today’s attendees were unmarried, and their interest in my marital life was apparent and not entirely surprising. While I hesitated to label their queries as impolitely forthright, they certainly bordered on being overly forward. Nevertheless, considering the relaxed atmosphere of today’s tea party, a slight deviation from strict formality seemed permissible.
Once I’d arrived at that conclusion, I opened my mouth to respond to the inquisitive lady’s question when Marisa suddenly materialized by my side and interrupted me.
“I beg your pardon, Your Highness,” she whispered close to my ear, her voice hushed but urgent. “A message from the emperor has just arrived. His Imperial Majesty requests your presence at the castle without delay.”
The emperor? Her words arrested me completely, my brief moment of astonishment giving way to the gravity of her message. Quickly regaining my poise, I nodded. “Understood. Please have the carriage readied for our departure to the castle, Marisa.”
“It shall be done, Your Imperial Highness,” Marisa replied with her characteristic efficiency, bowing gracefully before turning to execute my command.
As Marisa disappeared from view, I rose, smoothing out the fabric of my dress. The room was abuzz with curious and confused murmurs. Addressing the gathered assembly, I offered my regrets in a composed yet apologetic tone. “Please forgive this abrupt departure. Duty beckons, and I must heed its call. I have thoroughly enjoyed our time together, and I wish you all the very best. Until we meet again.”
Dipping my head in as much remorseful courtesy as propriety allowed me, I turned and made for the door. Countess Herbert hastened to join me, but I gracefully declined the offer of an escort to my carriage and stepped out into the corridor alone. Jitters overcame me as I clambered into the coach that awaited me, and this foreboding sense of apprehension was my stalwart companion on the entire journey to the royal castle. The anxious question “what could have happened?” echoed in my mind as Marisa and I alighted from the carriage and progressed down a winding castle corridor.
“How much further to the parlor?” I asked Marisa, the anticipation building with each step.
“We’re close, Your Highness,” she said. “Not much longer now.”
As I was yet unfamiliar with the castle’s expansive network of hallways, I trusted Marisa’s guidance implicitly. We continued our silent progression, turning corners and moving through more deserted passages. Then, as we rounded another bend, a group of knights came into view, standing guard outside a door. This had to be our destination.
My eyes narrowed slightly upon noticing that the knights stationed outside the door were members of the Pyreborn rather than the emperor’s customary Imperial Guard. It seemed unusual (if not slightly disconcerting) for the emperor to be without his personal knights. But I pushed aside these thoughts; such concerns were beyond my purview. The knights straightened up, dipping their heads in a show of respect as I approached. With a reassuring gesture, I signaled to them to be at ease, and then I reached out and knocked on the door.
“Carolina Ruby Martinez, humbly presenting myself in accordance with the summon
s of His Esteemed Imperial Majesty,” I announced, my voice steady and clear.
The response from within was immediate. “Enter,” commanded a voice I recognized as the emperor’s. Turning the doorknob, I gently pushed the door open to reveal: “Ed?! And Teodore and Prince Gilbert too! And Her Majesty as well!”
Met with this unexpected gathering, I couldn’t contain my startled exclamation. With both emperor and empress, and their two sons, this made for a complete imperial family gathering—the first one I’d seen at that! Just what had occurred to warrant this?
“Your Highness,” Marisa’s quiet whisper urged from behind.
Immediately, I snapped myself out of my shock and curtsied. “Forgive the tardiness of my introduction. I am delighted to present myself, Carolina Ruby Martinez, at your most gracious service.”
“Please, Carolina, let’s dispense with formalities for now. We’re amongst family,” the emperor said. “In fact, we wish to extend our apologies for the abrupt summons. Were you not at a tea party? Please, sit,” he added, urging me to my seat.
As I scanned the room for a suitable spot to settle myself, I noted the unexpectedly relaxed atmosphere among the imperial family, an ease that slightly assuaged my initial apprehension. The best choice of seating wasn’t immediately apparent to me in this distinguished assembly, but I soon found myself instinctively guided to the vacant seat next to Edward. It seemed the most fitting place, and I took my seat gingerly.
Immediately, Edward bestowed a cordial smile upon me and tenderly encircled my waist with his arm. Ever since our heartfelt disclosures to one another, he had developed an inclination for such open displays of affection, and it was both heartwarming and a little embarrassing.
“Oh dear, such a scandalous exhibition ignites within me a pang of envy,” Prince Gilbert quipped with a theatrical sigh.
“And what stops you from seeking a partner of your own, Brother?” Edward said brusquely. “Lina is spoken for.”
Prince Gilbert chuckled. “Your impudence towards your elders never ceases to amuse me, Edward. And to think you were once such an adorable lad.”
Ed, somewhat vexed, turned away. “Adorable? Hardly. I was never such a thing, neither then nor now.”
Though it was slightly childish, I couldn’t help but find his retort to hold a certain charm. His youthful defensiveness was strangely endearing.
“Lina, feel free to tell him off as well,” Ed encouraged me. “I’ll handle the consequences.”
“Ah, but what consequences could there be, being chastised by my esteemed Mistress of the Divine?” Prince Gilbert pointed out. “To me, that seems more a reward than a penalty.” He spread his arms in an exaggerated gesture of welcome, his eyes gleaming with expectation.
By contrast, Ed’s gaze glittered coldly. This...exchange, one that I hesitated to categorize as an innocent brotherly spat, seemed to greatly amuse the emperor, and he bellowed with laughter. The empress, on the other hand, wore an expression of sheer exasperation. She let out a weary sigh. The juxtaposition of their reactions left me with nothing but a wry smile in response.
Setting aside this family repartee, the gravity of our summons lingered in my mind. Surely we were gathered here for something more pressing than fraternal banter. “Ed, Prince Gilbert,” I interjected, “I believe we have been convened for an urgent matter. Perhaps we might save this discussion for another time?”
The empress nodded in agreement, adding her voice to mine. “Carolina is absolutely correct. This is neither the time nor the place for such exchanges. Such rambunctious children,” she added in a low murmur, more to herself than to anyone else. Her words, however softly spoken, were enough to prompt immediate silence from both brothers.
When the matriarch speaks, everyone listens indeed...
“Now that our two spirited sons have at last found silence, shall we proceed, Eric?” the empress said.
“Indeed, we may,” concurred the emperor. With a subtle gesture, he motioned the maids who had been waiting behind us to a more discreet position along the wall, firmly signaling the end of our genial preamble. A heavy silence fell over us, so profound that the anxious ringing in my ears seemed as if it might become audible to the others in the room.
The silence lingered, stretching on for a moment longer until (thankfully) the emperor resumed speaking. “Before we delve into our primary discussion, there is someone else who must join us.” He directed his attention towards a door—not the one leading to the hallway, but one connected to an adjoining room. “Please, enter.”
The door slowly swung open, and I found myself instinctively holding my breath in anticipation. Emerging from the threshold was a figure I had not expected; it was my—
“Father?!”
My voice escaped me involuntarily, a mix of surprise and confusion. Seeing my father here amid such distinguished company was the last scenario I had anticipated. I wasn’t alone in my shock; both Prince Gilbert and Ed wore similar expressions of utter disbelief. It became clear that his visit must have been a well-kept secret, one known only to the emperor and empress.
Father, meanwhile, was the epitome of diplomatic grace. He quietly shut the door behind him and executed a respectful bow.
But why is he here?! His presence here was a puzzle not just because he was my father, but because he was a Celestian envoy. Were any of the proper channels followed, there should have been formal notifications and extensive diplomatic preparations beforehand, should there not?!
But as I sat there with my whirlwind of questions spinning in my mind, it became apparent that Father was not about to offer any immediate clarifications. His demeanor was impeccably formal, his polite smile never faltering as he stood in silence, evidently waiting for the appropriate cue to speak. Then is he here in his official capacity as prime minister and not as my father? That would explain his silence and his reluctance to acknowledge me at all.
The emperor, sensing the room’s growing curiosity, took the lead. “Although he is not unfamiliar to many here, allow me to formally introduce the duke and prime minister of Celestia, Raymond Sanchez,” he announced with a diplomatic gravitas.
“Thank you, Your Imperial Majesty,” Father responded with impeccable courtesy, his tone measured. “I bring urgent news that necessitated this swift assemblage. I beg your forgiveness for the abruptness of this gathering.”
In this setting, Father’s usual deference seemed amplified, perhaps attuned to the prestige of his company. He bowed once more, deeper and longer this time, and I took the opportunity to sneak a glance at Ed. He looked just as shaken as I did, his eyes steadily fixed on the top of Father’s head.
Just how pressing could a matter be to necessitate such an immediate and unheralded audience? Especially considering that Celestia was an independent nation, not a vassal state obligated to share intelligence with Malcosias. In fact, I would’ve expected quite the opposite—wouldn’t it have been more strategic for Celestia to reserve any such critical information for formal diplomatic channels, leveraging it to their advantage in negotiations?
Prince Gilbert, mirroring my confusion, was the first to break the silence. “Father, I have several questions.”
“Not now, Gilbert,” the emperor replied. “We are in mixed company,” he added, his stern expression conveying the seriousness of the moment.
Prince Gilbert yielded, though his face betrayed his dissatisfaction. What else could be done in the face of the emperor’s direct command?
“The same holds for everyone here,” continued the emperor. “We will refrain from asking questions until after this matter is fully laid out before us. Let us extend our full attention to Duke Sanchez.”
All heads swiveled to my father as he prepared to speak. “Thank you, Your Imperial Majesty,” he said with another respectful bow. He stepped forward, and his expression sharpened. In the face of the imperial family’s scrutiny, he displayed remarkable composure, standing confidently with his shoulders squared and his head held high. Even the emperor seemed to regard his comportment with a hint of admiration, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly in silent acknowledgment.
I realized I was seeing my father in his element, as a man who regularly shouldered the responsibilities of an entire nation. Witnessing his ability to maintain such fortitude before the most prominent figures of the empire, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride. A warmth spread through me, my eyes softening with love and appreciation for the man who had always been first and foremost my father.
