Chapter 125 — In which all meetings are a pure coincidence and nothing else (4)

  Kill someone?

  Phlox didn’t answer the strange question immediately.

  In fact she didn’t even glance at the flowers.

  Instead, she took in the details of the woman before her.

  Her sharp nose, her full lips, her strong cheekbones… Her eyes smiling with a clear insight.

  Even when she smiled, her pupils would narrow, turning into small pin points on the golden plates of her irises – like a snake staring down at her pray.

  It was so uncanny familiar.

  She looked exactly the same.

  If she wasn’t holding on her sanity, Phlox would believe she is in fact the same person she knew.

  But that was impossible.

  Because that person was dead for a long long time.

  And the one in front of her was the young lady of the enemy state, who just made a very dangerous statement.

  “I’m sorry Lady Saffra, but I wish to have nothing to do with the murders. Now, if you excuse me.”

  She turned on her heel and started to walk in the direction she guessed was the entrance to the manor.

  The snake slithered behind her.

  “Aah~! You misunderstood Kind Priest Phlox. I’m not trying to rope you into a murder or set you up.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  “But if a murder did occur…”

  “Lady Saffra, please excuse me. I just got here.”

  “Yes, I can tell, seeing you’re going straight for the kitchen door.”

  Phlox stopped in her tracks.

  Saffra, who was a step behind her, almost walked into her.

  “… Lady Saffra, if you don’t mind, please direct me to the deceased.”

  “Of course.”

  Saffra turned Phlox in the opposite direction and took the lead.

  After a few minutes of silence, she said:

  “You don’t seem particularly excited to see me.”

  “My apologies, but I believe my current duty requires solemnity.”

  “Oh, that’s for sure. But I don’t mean your face. No. Well. Your face too. But mostly your eyes. Your eyes aren’t happy to see me.”

  “…Why did Your Ladyship expect me to be happy to see you?”

  “...Um, good question. I guess our previous encounter was so fun, I expected the second one to be as exciting.”

  Phlox glanced at Saffra.

  The two women were alone, Saffra’s ladies-in-waiting left, and there strangely seemed to be no guards around.

  Perhaps that’s why Saffra didn’t show any particular concern about etiquette.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  She also didn’t look like someone who was in grief.

  Phlox turned her gaze away.

  The Flavun’s royal family problems were not for her to worry about.

  As the two women entered the halls where guards and servants hustled about, as Phlox expected, Saffra put on a more solemn face.

  In a heavy silence the two descended to the mourning halls, where the body was preserved with ice.

  Mimosa and Orche, who were informed beforehand about Phlox’s arrival, were already waiting.

  “Took your sweet time, eh?”

  Orche looked better than just after the death of his father.

  Which meant he returned to his usual countenance, and Phlox draw on conclusion from that impression:

  ‘Pissy little prick, eh?’

  But she showed nothing, instead bowing in a way that was Purplus’ custom – with her hands cupped at the height of her chest and her back straight.

  It was a different from Flavun type bow, which had one put a hand on their chest and the other extend on its full length.

  Phlox once heard a scholar propose a theory that the differences steamed from what was considered threatening in both states.

  Priests often used big and complicated movements in rituals, sometimes with the assistance of props and mediums of power.

  Therefore, by cupping their hands they showed they had nothing in their hands, and by keeping rigid posture, with their arms to their chest, they limited their range of movements.

  In Purplus, the only one who did not bow like this was the Saint, who would first put both hands on their chest, and then slowly open their arms, spreading them wide as if to embrace the world.

  In Flavun’s context, at least in the age of weapon masters, putting a hand on one’s chest and the other in the air, meant letting go of their weapon and inability to quickly reach for it.

  Similarly to Purplus, the only ones who didn’t bow like this, were Generals.

  They would put one hand on their chest, but the other would remain close to their weapon.

  “Lady Candidate Mimosa, Lord Candidate Orche.”

  Reciprocating her greeting, the two General candidates also bowed.

  Mimosa used a normal bow, with her hand in the air.

  But Orche bowed with his hand on the hilt of the knife he carried.

  It appeared that regardless of the contradictory wills, he already considered himself the ruler of Yellow Throne.

  Phlox noted that to herself, but didn’t comment.

  She didn’t know about the two contradictory wills, and even if she knew, she would just pretend not to know anything.

  Again. Flavun’s dynasty problem weren’t her problems.

  She was simply here to preform the last rites.

  “I’ll begin then.”

  After having a quick look at the elderly body laid to sleep in the ice, Phlox began the traditional ceremony.

  Burning incense, pouring a bowl of clear water and dropping flower petals and jewels into the bowl, as she recited the prayer inviting the soul to temporarily reside in the bowl that would be then transported to the nearest river…

  But as she went through the steps, a frown appeared on Phlox’s face.

  She suddenly paused for a moment.

  Closely examined the bowl, the flower petals, the jewels…

  She started to recite prayer again, going through the same lines a few times.

  Then she examined the bowl again.

  . . .

  “Excuse me.”

  Phlox suddenly approached the corpse and lifted the cloth covering it.

  “What you think you’re doing!?”

  Orche was about to jump at her, his hand inching towards the knife, but Mimosa caught him before that.

  Phlox didn’t pay him any attention, her eyes quickly scrutinizing every centimeter of the elder body.

  “Your Father doesn’t have a soul.”

  She calmly said, when Orche was about to start shouting again.

  “What the fuck are you saying?”

  It didn’t stop him from shouting though, he just changed his words.

  Phlox dropped the cloth with even grimmer frown on her face, as she absent-mildly explained.

  “Some people have souls, some people don’t. Just like some people have two lungs and some have three. Or one. We live in many different ways, that’s no matter. The last ceremony for those without souls is just slightly different.”

  “Is there a problem then?”

  Mimosa softly asked, seeing how Phlox stood in place, consumed by thoughts.

  “There is… Well, it’s not a problem really. It happens sometimes.”

  “Get to the fucking point.”

  “… Yes. In the case of people without souls, their minds – or what is left of it after their death – will inhabit whatever they treasured the most in their lives. Usually that’s the body. That’s not to say that they particularly liked their bodies, but rather that they treasured their lives… In some cases though… there are sometimes people who treasure something else over their own lives. In those cases, their minds will inhabit the related objects.”

  “… I see, you mean to say that our Father is the latter case?”

  Mimosa asked, while she covered Orche’s mouth.

  “I cannot sense the mind in any part of Late Lord General’s body. So yes, I would pose that he is the latter.”

  “How can we find where his mind went?”

  “I’ll need to examine all the items he held dear and were with him in the room when he died. The mind cannot travel far.”

  “I understand, please follow me.”

  And so, Phlox was led to Sulfious’ chambers.

  First she got a quick look around.

  Then she got a second, much more meticulous look around.

  Finally she started to scrutinize every item in the room with extreme focus.

  A few hours passed.

  When she returned to the three of Sulfious’ children, who stood at the doorsteps and watched her the entire time, her face was grim.

  Very grim.

  “Was anything taken out of this room?”

  “Nothing after we’ve arrived at the scene. I made sure the room remained sealed after the body was carried out.”

  Saffra answered with confidence and precision.

  Phlox nodded.

  She expected this much from the layer of dust that started to gather.

  She sighed inside.

  ‘And here I thought I could quickly finish it and go back.’

  Dealing with His Excellency’s crazy work schedules was suddenly so much more appalling.

  But she said what she had to.

  “It isn’t here. The vestige of Late Lord General Sulfious’ mind is not in this room.”

  *~*~*