The Saintess and the Villainess

Chapter 20

Lady Corvina had a headache. That wasn't unusual. She often got stress headaches in the evening, especially when her schedule was particularly busy. And just because the Saintess had swept into her life and turned her worldview upside down didn't mean that she was suddenly less busy—if anything, she was busier than ever now that she had to adapt her her various schemes towards new goals.

Every day was a whirlwind of social events, backroom meetings, secret reports, and drafting new plans. From the outside, it wouldn't seem like anything much had changed in Corvina's day-to-day life. But that was how this kind of political maneuvering operated. On the surface, it rarely appeared as if much of anything was happening. But underneath, everything was in constant flux and the smallest moves could lead to monumental consequences down the line.

That was why Corvina rarely acted at all without seriously considering all the potential consequences.

Currently, Corvina was in her "off hours" uniform—a simple dress, no jewelry, her hair pulled back, and her glasses on. Nevertheless, she was still hard at work in her study, reading through some old church texts.

It wasn't like Corvina had known nothing about the church previously. After all, it was important to know your enemy, and the imperial family had had an adversarial relationship with the church hierarchy for generations. Still, it was suddenly more important than ever that she acquainted herself with as much as possible about the minutia of how the Church of Coris operated.

It was proving more difficult than she had anticipated. There were some older texts that were only available to read within the cathedral itself, and it wasn't as if the bastard imperial princess was particularly welcome there, her new friendship with the Saintess aside. And that was only for texts that were publicly acknowledged to exist. Who knew what sort of secret records an organization like the Church of Coris might keep?

There was a knock on the study door, and Ulrich let himself into the room. He was in his full butler garb and carrying a tray.

"The chef was concerned you've been overworking yourself," he said, setting down the tray. "Thought you could use some warm tea to help you relax."

"Thank you," said Corvina, while Ulrich poured the tea. "Although you didn't need to come all the way up here yourself. You could have sent Helen. After all, you must have had a long day as well."

"You've lost track of time," said Ulrich. "Or you'd know Helen's already turned in for the night. Besides, I wanted to inform you that I've made some headway on my investigation into the rebellion."

Corvina raised an eyebrow as she took a sip of her tea. "Go on," she said.

Ulrich relaxed his stance, shifting modes from butler to spy master. "It's damn strange," he said. "At first glance, it really does appear as if you were right about them. They seem to be a bunch of useless know-nothings with barely an organization to speak of. They're a loose group of connected cells who occasionally meet to argue about philosophy and complain about corrupt nobles, and I frankly doubt any of them would have the ability to coordinate with each other for any sort of mass movement."

"I see," said Corvina. "And at second glance?"

"There are whispers." Ulrich shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe nothing. At least one person in each of these different cells talks about having spoken to the same cleric—a woman with red hair and long bangs that completely cover one eye. But even the most talkative rebel gets a lot more cagey once this cleric is brought up. None of them seem to know her name. And if you spend any time with the rebels you can feel a strong air of anticipation among them, as if they're... waiting for something. I'm not certain, but it's possible that the reason they seem so useless isn't because they're incapable of doing anything, but because they're on a sort of standby. They're waiting for something."