The Camellia Tattoo - Chapter 105
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
this book is completely translated on luna kofi (advanced chapters for the website will follow)
Some days she is escorted by knights, other days she’s not. It’s her own house.
“The fact that I can’t even take a leisurely stroll in my own home…”
Amber muttered slowly as she walked past Igmeyer towards Iona.
“Why her?”
Igmeyer asked in a displeased tone. Amber gave a faint smile and reached out to Iona.
“We were going to have tea, weren’t we? Despite the interruption, shall we go now?”
“Oh, yes, I’d like that…”
As Iona’s hand lightly touched hers, Amber was startled by the coldness—it didn’t feel like a living person’s hand at all.
‘Could she be ill… How can someone’s body temperature be so low?’
Iona followed Amber like a duckling that sees its mother for the first time after hatching. Holding tightly to her hand and trotting behind, it was frankly adorable.
This situation wasn’t adorable, but to Amber…it somehow felt that way.
“What’s this? Why is she holding your hand?”
Watching all this, Igmeyer grew increasingly irritable.
“Let go.”
As Igmeyer approached, he growled threateningly at Iona. The intensity in his eyes made Iona shrink back, but she stubbornly refused to let go of Amber’s hand.
“Your Grace, what should we do with these men?”
A knight approached, and asked about the fate of the priests.
Igmeyer furrowed his brows and gritted his teeth.
“What do you mean what should we do? Why are they still here? Throw them out immediately.”
“Ahem, understood.”
Igmeyer wasn’t known for handling situations peacefully. It was only Amber’s calming influence since their marriage that had somewhat tempered his temperament.
Quickly realizing that Igmeyer was more than just angry, the knights began to haul the priests away.
“Let me go! Are you not afraid of divine punishment?”
“We will formally protest with the church!”
“High Priest! High Priest!”
The priests struggled and squawked as the knights stifled their shouts with a forced grin.
“Sure, bring on that divine punishment.”
“Just be quiet. Before our Grand Duke decides to split your church in half.”
“And stop crying for the High Priest like a child calling for their father.”
Igmeyer’s tolerance of these intruders stemmed from not wanting to complicate matters with the imperial family or the religious order. It was ‘rational’ to treat such troublesome groups well before sending them on their way.
But even patience has its limits. Igmeyer had endured enough even during his days as a mercenary—only up to a point.
Cross that line? Then it’s about severing heads of lords and their kin, stringing them up for all to see.
The reason Igmeyer initially bore with them was simple: if he didn’t, when he finally snapped, it would be absolute.
‘Damn fools. Don’t provoke him, please!’
The knights prayed as they shoved the priests out of the castle.
How they would return without a horse was none of their concern.
Nor was it their concern whether the priest with the cracked ribs would survive.
They could heal themselves with their power for all they cared.
“Oh, it looks like a storm’s brewing.”
“It is the season for spring rains.”
After executing their orders, the knights dusted off their hands, exchanged a few words, and then closed the castle gates.
Boom, roar!
The heavy gate shut with a bang and thunder struck in a clear sky.
A symphony marking the end of a brief spring.
* * *
As the rain started to soak the earth, those who had been vocally seeking the High Priest finally quieted down.
Mikael, informed by the knights about the events in the garden, decided not to take any action.
Instead, he simply agreed with the Grand Duke’s decisions and expressed a mild regret.
Meaning, he had no intention of defending those priests.
With that message delivered, Mikael enjoyed a warm cup of lavender tea in his bedroom for the evening.
“Ah… Ha, hahaha!”
Hours later, confirming there was no one around, Mikael couldn’t contain his laughter any longer.
‘Who would have thought things would turn out this well.’
The friction between the haughty priests with no real power and the fiercely independent Northerners was inevitable.
The priests, undeterred by time or place, prayed incessantly and carried out missions to everyone—from villagers nearby to servants and knights within the castle—believing that any act done in the name of God could bear no sin.
They imposed their beliefs with zealous fervor, and Mikael simply let them be.
‘Even the lowly Northmen won’t listen to reason!’
‘They even refuse the word of God; no wonder they’re considered barbarians.’
Watching the priests come to him, ranting about their frustrations, Mikael calculated.
When will the conflict between the Northerners and the priests reach its peak? It was all in his plan to get them kicked out. Everything unfolding was exactly as Mikael had anticipated.
