A few days had passed since then.
Damia sent her letter to her father, and she received a reply from him. And as soon as everything was decided, planned, and settled, Heinrich called them.
“Welcome back, Akkard. And Lady Damia.”
Leaning at an angle on a plush sofa, Heinrich examined them, looking invariably relaxed. But, if they looked closely, they would see dark circles under his eyes since he had not slept well for several days.
And how could he? Everything would be decided soon.
“Then, before we get to the point, shall we listen that reply, Lady Damia?”
“Yes, your Highness.”
Damia took out the letter she had already read from the torn envelope and handed it to Heinrich. And she briefly reported on the content:
“As you know, our family has been supplying daily necessities and various ceremonial items required by the Great Hall for a long time. However, according to this reply, there was a unilateral notice of cancellation of business with my father from the High Temple.”
“Tsk,”
Heinrich said it was a pity, but it was what everyone in the room expected.
The Great Shrine knew that Damia had a close relationship with Akkard and sided with the Crown Prince. So, typically, it would have been expected to cancel their business with the Primula family immediately.
However, they hadn’t right away since they unquestioningly trusted the “forbidden stigma” they had engraved on Damia’s father. As long as that insignia existed, Owen, Count of Primula, could never turn his back on the Great Temple.
‘And maybe that’s why they underestimated him.’
Damia smiled bitterly. In response, Heinrich asked her about her concerns.
“Then there would be no more justification for going between the Primula estate and the Great Temple?”
“That would be correct. However, the change happened quickly and their new business partner… … has a deep connection with my father.”
At this time, it was helpful that northern social circles were small and narrow. It was a tight-knit community where you only met people you were close to; the relationships, even with old acquaintances, were solid.
Heinrich, curious about this, asked, widening his eyes.
“Really? What family will be doing the deliveries then?”
“Your Highness must have already heard of them. The Northern Marquis of Roysten… … .”
It was certainly familiar. Heinrich pondered for a moment, wondering where he had heard the name before, and then realized,
“Ah, it’s the family of that idiot, right?”
Internally, Damia thought, ‘I’m sorry, Kael.’ And she agreed with Heinrich’s words.
“Yes. Fortunately, Marquis Roysten is an old friend of my father, and he was alarmed about suddenly becoming the supplier to the Great Shrine. As you know, it takes a lot of knowledge, manpower and transportation equipment to deliver goods to a large place like the High Temple.”
“Then it wouldn’t be strange to send in a few people, considering that his predecessor is helping him out, right?”
“Right, that is exactly what my father suggested.”
The specific plan proposed by Damia’s father, Owen Primula, was as followed:
First, send loyal workers to help a friend suffering from a labour shortage. He would lend out some transport equipment, including a large cart.
The hollow bottom of this cart has been specially modified to make space for three or four people to hide. Akkard and his party would hide in the room as Primula’s hirelings dragged their carts into the Great Shrine. They would be able to infiltrate safely without detection.
“That’s a great plan.”
Heinrich was impressed when she reported. To this, Damia smiled softly and added,
“This is all thanks to his Highness, who excused and protected Kael from before. Kael must have written to his home and told his father about it.”
So, the Marquis Roysten was willing to cooperate in this matter. It was to repay the favour bestowed on his second son, whom he loved and cherished.
The Crown Prince looked relieved at the mention of additional allies.
“I’m glad things went well. So, what about being a guide?”
“About that… … My father said he would gladly accept the role.”
Damia’s face clouded with worry as she said that. She felt Akkard’s worried gaze as he stood silently beside her.
‘Father.’
Damia bit her lip. If her father, who has been in and out of the High Temple for decades, helped, the chances of rescuing the Saint were much higher.
But the chances of her father being in danger were also just as high.
A few days had passed since then.
Damia sent her letter to her father, and she received a reply from him. And as soon as everything was decided, planned, and settled, Heinrich called them.
“Welcome back, Akkard. And Lady Damia.”
Leaning at an angle on a plush sofa, Heinrich examined them, looking invariably relaxed. But, if they looked closely, they would see dark circles under his eyes since he had not slept well for several days.
And how could he? Everything would be decided soon.
“Then, before we get to the point, shall we listen that reply, Lady Damia?”
“Yes, your Highness.”
Damia took out the letter she had already read from the torn envelope and handed it to Heinrich. And she briefly reported on the content:
“As you know, our family has been supplying daily necessities and various ceremonial items required by the Great Hall for a long time. However, according to this reply, there was a unilateral notice of cancellation of business with my father from the High Temple.”
“Tsk,”
Heinrich said it was a pity, but it was what everyone in the room expected.
The Great Shrine knew that Damia had a close relationship with Akkard and sided with the Crown Prince. So, typically, it would have been expected to cancel their business with the Primula family immediately.
However, they hadn’t right away since they unquestioningly trusted the “forbidden stigma” they had engraved on Damia’s father. As long as that insignia existed, Owen, Count of Primula, could never turn his back on the Great Temple.
‘And maybe that’s why they underestimated him.’
Damia smiled bitterly. In response, Heinrich asked her about her concerns.
“Then there would be no more justification for going between the Primula estate and the Great Temple?”
“That would be correct. However, the change happened quickly and their new business partner… … has a deep connection with my father.”
At this time, it was helpful that northern social circles were small and narrow. It was a tight-knit community where you only met people you were close to; the relationships, even with old acquaintances, were solid.
Heinrich, curious about this, asked, widening his eyes.
“Really? What family will be doing the deliveries then?”
“Your Highness must have already heard of them. The Northern Marquis of Roysten… … .”
It was certainly familiar. Heinrich pondered for a moment, wondering where he had heard the name before, and then realized,
“Ah, it’s the family of that idiot, right?”
Internally, Damia thought, ‘I’m sorry, Kael.’ And she agreed with Heinrich’s words.
“Yes. Fortunately, Marquis Roysten is an old friend of my father, and he was alarmed about suddenly becoming the supplier to the Great Shrine. As you know, it takes a lot of knowledge, manpower and transportation equipment to deliver goods to a large place like the High Temple.”
“Then it wouldn’t be strange to send in a few people, considering that his predecessor is helping him out, right?”
“Right, that is exactly what my father suggested.”
The specific plan proposed by Damia’s father, Owen Primula, was as followed:
First, send loyal workers to help a friend suffering from a labour shortage. He would lend out some transport equipment, including a large cart.
The hollow bottom of this cart has been specially modified to make space for three or four people to hide. Akkard and his party would hide in the room as Primula’s hirelings dragged their carts into the Great Shrine. They would be able to infiltrate safely without detection.
“That’s a great plan.”
Heinrich was impressed when she reported. To this, Damia smiled softly and added,
“This is all thanks to his Highness, who excused and protected Kael from before. Kael must have written to his home and told his father about it.”
So, the Marquis Roysten was willing to cooperate in this matter. It was to repay the favour bestowed on his second son, whom he loved and cherished.
The Crown Prince looked relieved at the mention of additional allies.
“I’m glad things went well. So, what about being a guide?”
“About that… … My father said he would gladly accept the role.”
Damia’s face clouded with worry as she said that. She felt Akkard’s worried gaze as he stood silently beside her.
‘Father.’
Damia bit her lip. If her father, who has been in and out of the High Temple for decades, helped, the chances of rescuing the Saint were much higher.
But the chances of her father being in danger were also just as high.
