Chapter 1. Hypocrisy (1)
“Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of the bones of the dead and everything unclean.”
—Matthew 23:27
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The entire Keshet Empire was overflowing with excitement.
The 13-year-long war had finally come to an end. Though the war had taken place in foreign lands, and the people of the empire had not directly experienced its hardships, war was war, and the return of their victorious knights filled them with pride.
The Papal Court, the Grand Duchy of Canis, and even the territory of Antonello, which bordered both, were no different. Knights and young men conscripted into the war formed long processions. Everyone hurried to witness the spectacle. Women, too, rushed forward with bright faces. After more than a decade of absence, the return of men would surely bring even greater prosperity to Duran, the city of pleasure where men came to seek happiness. Tonight, they needed to quickly secure a guest to fill their purses. The competition was fierce.
“Finally, we can have a night of ecstasy!”
“I’ve been stuck with old men who have no stamina—my legs were going numb. I want a proper partner for once.”
“Don’t worry. After starving on the battlefield, they’ll be desperate. We might even have to take on dozens each.”
“That’d be amazing! If I work nonstop for a few days, I might even be able to buy a house in Ganen!”
The prostitutes of Duran rejoiced at the return of young men—wealthy, strong, and long-deprived of women. Families celebrated the safe return of their loved ones from the war. Some rejoiced at the prospect of expensive foreign goods becoming cheaper, while others were glad that the word of God could now be spread to foreign lands.
“Now that the heretics can no longer mock God, what a relief. This is all God’s will.”
“I heard they even brought back the enemy prince as a hostage. If he can truly reflect on God’s word here, that would be for the best.”
“Well, the knights of the Papal Court played a major role in securing this victory. With God’s blessing, how could they lose? They must have learned much from this war.”
“Ah, you mean the Holy Knights. There’s one among them who’s particularly skilled… Eckart, wasn’t it? They say he’s so talented that he led the front lines at such a young age…”
“I’ve heard of him too. The Pope trusts him deeply. After all, how could a knight under God’s grace not be skilled?”
“That’s true.”
Beyond the dense crowd, the figures of soldiers briefly came into view. Though exhausted from their long journey, their faces were flushed with excitement. The cheers of the people were deafening.
The air, thick with emotion and joy, stretched all the way to the Papal Court. Inside the grand cathedral, a joint memorial service was being held.
“We entrust these noble souls, who lived in faith and have now departed this world, to God’s embrace, believing in their resurrection…”
“Hear our prayers with mercy, open the gates of heavenly paradise to their souls, and grant us, who remain, the strength to reunite with them in faith…”
The Pope blessed both the departed and the returned in God’s name, while the knights of the Papal Court, clergy, and representatives from each territory attended the memorial mass.
Amid the solemn proceedings, one man sat with an expression of utter boredom. He fidgeted with his neatly arranged clothes, muttering under his breath.
“When will this ever end? It’s dragging on longer than usual.”
“Well, there are many souls to mourn. It was a long war. The dead are not few.”
“Who doesn’t know that? Do you really think I need an explanation?”
“Perhaps you’ve forgotten. You returned to your territory early after the late Grand Duke passed away.”
“As if you weren’t the same. You didn’t even set foot in the Ihsan River, did you? And you’re not alone—most here are in the same boat. Only the poor soldiers died.”
The nobles had started the war, but as it dragged on without a clear end, they one by one made excuses and returned to their territories. The knights and common soldiers were the ones who saw it through to the end.
“By the way, I heard there’s going to be a grand banquet soon. A welcome for distinguished guests, I suppose—but really, it’s just an excuse to eat, drink, and socialize as usual. What are your plans?”
“Hakan. If you’re trying to drag me along, you’d better shut your mouth and face forward.”
“Oh, so you really don’t plan to go? It’s a rare gathering of representatives. You should attend—it would look better. And I’d like to see Duke Harun’s wife again.”
At the mention of Duke Harun’s wife, Grand Duke Canis’s face twisted in irritation. His voice dripped with displeasure.
“If I bring that rigid woman, I’ll be stuck dancing all night.”
Hakan chuckled at the thought of Grand Duke Canis dancing. Glances flickered toward them, and Hakan quickly composed himself.
“The Duchess would be heartbroken to hear that. She’s only doing as she was taught.”
“She always acts like it’s not her. Why don’t you bring your wife and enjoy yourself?”
“Hmm. Come to think of it, she’s probably busy right now. She has a duty to welcome the returning knights and citizens. I can’t just summon her when she’s occupied. I was thoughtless.”
Grand Duke Canis let out a dry laugh at Hakan’s blunt refusal. Hakan added,
“Besides, everyone will be wearing masks anyway. Who cares if the woman next to me is my wife or a whore? If I’m going to enjoy myself, I might as well find a more entertaining partner. Don’t you agree?”
Grand Duke Canis remained silent, as if the conversation wasn’t worth his time. Hakan persisted,
“If we sneak away from the crowd, it could be quite fun. And speaking of your little bird—why not bring him out to breathe a little? Wouldn’t he be curious about how the war was, how triumphant the returning knights look, how happy the people are?”
A smirk finally crossed Grand Duke Canis’s face.
“Little bird? Precious? Who?”
Hakan’s “little bird” was Ronen, who had writhed in Grand Duke Canis’s arms all night, enduring relentless torment until he finally collapsed into an exhausted sleep—unaware that the Duke had left.
Grand Duke Canis recalled Ronen, buried deep in the blankets, barely breathing. He smirked even more bitterly. He had told him not to fall asleep first, yet here he was—someone who could handle two guests at once, unable to endure just one.
He had been too busy to pay much attention lately, and Ronen had grown bold again. He’d have to remind him properly when he returned. Then, he thought of Ronen’s unusual behavior the night before—asking to be taken to the festival. Had the word “victory” intoxicated him? His usually hollow eyes had flickered with a faint spark of life.
Hakan’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
“No matter how much you pamper a bird, if it’s always caged, it’ll die. Surely you’re not that ignorant of basic common sense.”
“You seem to have the wrong idea. I feed and house him because he’s profitable. If you pay, you can have him too. If you’re so curious, go find him yourself. He’s always available.”
This was no conversation for a solemn cathedral. Hakan coughed awkwardly, but Grand Duke Canis showed no concern for the stares around him, gazing ahead with shameless indifference.
Hakan thought to himself: No matter how cunning, no one can outdo someone born like this.
“Fine, fine. You’re right.”
Hakan, not giving up, tempted him again.
“Then let’s go pick out partners together. What do you say? Good idea, isn’t it?”
Annoyed by Hakan’s persistence, Grand Duke Canis replied wearily,
“What about that boy from last time?”
Hakan rolled his eyes, trying to recall, before giving up.
“How can I favor just one? Equal love for all! Isn’t that the true will of God?”
He knew further conversation was pointless. Grand Duke Canis, having lost interest, decided it was better to focus on the tedious mass. But his silence didn’t last long. Hakan, equally bored, brought up another topic.
“See that man over there? They say he made the greatest contribution in this war. Brilliant skill and outstanding tactics—he rose to the rank of commander at such a young age.”
Hakan discreetly pointed, and Grand Duke Canis, unable to resist his curiosity, turned his head.
The Holy Knights, also known as the Knights of the Papal Court, wore silver armor overlaid with red cloth, creating a striking impression. Among them, one figure stood out—not only for his towering height but also for his rare, jet-black hair.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
