The next morning, I woke up in another unfamiliar bed and room that didn’t belong to me. Not that I ever really had one. Back in the temple, all of the children were fit about two or three per room. Nobility usually had the facilities and money to raise their children, but the nobility who didn’t and were prone to beast attacks would send their children to the temple for protection. In return as payment, the nobles would have to sign a Sun Contract with Father to make donations to the temple until the debt is paid. Sun Contracts have been dated from the ancient divine texts, and are said to have been existing since the Divine Surya had walked upon the land. Those contracts are made with sworn oaths kept by both parties involved, and after being signed the contract is practically bound to the parties’ souls until completion. If one party breaks the promise somehow by failing to commit, the punishment agreed upon when the contract is written will be dealt. 

It was an evil tactic, more fit for thugs in the back alleys than the Pope. After all, if the noble families could not repay Father in a satisfactory manner, their children were made into hostages. But Father was just that kind of person. Rather, I suppose it’s better to say that everyone who could wield a sizable amount of power and authority were cut from the same cloth. After all, while it may have not been so in the beginning, by the time my era had come along the only people who could present Sun Contracts were those in power.

It’s pitiful really, something Surya had created of their own divinity made to balance and divide the power of us humans had turned into something as wicked as that.

As a result, about a third of the children in the temple remained in the temple for some time. In that fraction of children, about half would show potential in being able to control their divinity. While all humans have divinity, it does not mean everyone has the capabilities to conjure and wield their divinity. By the age of ten, a child’s potential will manifest clearly. Father used this as a way to pick out children who showed promise. When a noble becomes a paladin, they are to abandon their noble name. Paladins are both an honor, and also a disgrace to nobility in that aspect. Most children who knew their talent with their divinity however, often chose the temple over their own.

It’s sad, I reminisce. I had given everything up to be with my family. That itself is a bad example seeing as it was the worst choice I made. It wasn’t my fault though, that Father just happened to be a horrible person.

I stare at the uncomfortably luxurious ceiling. Is it possible for the ceiling of such an old castle to be such a pure white? It’s scary.

Kaspar was one of those talents, I recall. He was practically a genius. By age ten, he already had great control over his divinity. That’s how he became doted on by Father, after all. He was already Father’s star pupil before I even came into the picture, since I was around eight when I was brought in and there was a… three? Four year difference between the two of us? The Divine Revelation that revealed me being the Saintess didn’t happen until I was ten. Until then, I could never fully manifest my divinity in physical form.

I wonder what happened to Kaspar after the battle…

The Pope told me there was no information about anyone. Out of everyone, Kaspar probably would’ve left a mark. I remember Kaspar sustained a large wound, but I also remember rushing to heal him. But what happened exactly is still muddled together a bit. Even so, Kaspar definitely would have lived. Knowing him, he probably returned to the temple. For all I knew, he could’ve succeeded Father as the next Pope. Father was a greedy and selfish man, but if he were to let his place be taken by anyone, it would’ve been Kaspar.

“I should ask for records of past Popes when I get back…” 

Right. I’m at the Palace. In a bed somehow much softer and more luxurious than the temple’s, though that shouldn’t surprise me. Is it even possible to acquire softer feathers? Are the temple’s beds and pillows even stuffed with feathers? As nice as it feels, to the point it feels like I’m sinking into the mattress, I don’t think I could get used to it. Beds stuffed with common straw are more familiar to me. Or better yet, no bed at all with just a simple blanket. It frustrates me, though. A noble can expect a luxury like this and even throw a fit over it, while my friends could've spent their whole lives without one. 

Oh. Not even the bones of those I played with in my childhood exist now, do they? The invisible children of the forbidden sector. There were nice houses and merchants where I was brought so I must have been somewhere in the fourth sector, where commoners and merchants lived and did business. 

My chest aches, a bittersweet pain pricking me. I wonder, is that house still there after all this time? A crooked grin and wide eyes flash across my vision for a split moment, and I shake my head. I need to stop thinking about the past, and focus on the present. Vaguely, I recall the conversation I had with the prince in his own inconspicuous carriage to the palace.

“You don’t have to worry about your escort,” he assured me. Glancing outside the window with a carefree smile he continued, “I already sent Saire to find a paladin and deliver the news. I will send a more formal letter of apology and explanation to the Pope when we get to the palace.”

He paused for a moment before raising a hand and holding it beside his mouth as if to whisper.

“Of course,” the Prince muttered in a harsh tone, smiling still. “Not the actual reason, I’ll just come up with one on the fly. That way, you’ll be free to focus on finding your ‘Unknown’.”

The golden haired prince smiled warmly as the carriage rattled from the road.

“So don’t you worry about a thing.”

When we arrived at the palace’s entrance, the prince handed me off to a maid who escorted me to this room to rest until the ball. It does make me nervous, however. While I don’t particularly care for how that paladin thinks of me, it still makes me worry about our next interaction. Whether this fails or not, I’m still going back to the temple. That means that I will still have to be escorted when I leave the temple’s grounds. In turn, that also means the chances of me and that paladin being paired remain high. How he feels about me is how he feels, but I just don’t want to deal with an escort who is glaring and constantly in a bad mood. No one would feel great about something like that.

Glancing at the small clock that is set onto the desk a little ways away from the bed, I wonder what there is to do. After all, my only instructions last night from the prince was that I could simply rest in this guest room until the morning. When I asked for clarification, he only smiled in a way that said, “Don’t worry, I will handle it”. Handle what exactly? After sending me along with the maid, the prince did not contact me after. After a small tour of the hallways preceding the guest room and the locations of the nearest garden, I sat in this very spacious guest room for about an hour. It was already sunset by the time we arrived at the palace, and a duo of maids had brought me food so I could have dinner in private.

“The prince is pretty attentive,” I muse quietly. He’s also observant, despite his strange character. Or perhaps I really am as easy to read as he claims. He’s also quite… What's the word? Reckless? Rash? In a way, he is both considerate and inconsiderate. He acts without thinking, but seems to have good intentions. He doesn’t really feel like a noble, strangely. Or is it perhaps that nobles have changed in the millennia I’ve been gone? At least, when I think about nobles of similar standing to Father, I can only really think about the kind of person Father and his associates were.

All of those people were part of the temple though…

The noble children who were sent to the temple behaved similarly to the adults in the temple. Or rather, they followed Father’s example. Since Father didn’t care for and hated me, the others followed suit.

There was the King though, I suddenly remembered. I only ever saw him once, the day me, Shivani, and Kaspar left for our journey. He presented Shivani to the kingdom, revealing their identity as the Sundrop Knight. Everyone was shocked of course, and there were shouts I remember. After all, no one knew of this child clad in armor from head to toe. 

I’m pretty sure the King was also the twisted sort. He seemed smug that day, seeing Father’s enraged expression. The King purposefully hid Shivani’s existence until then to make a fool out of Father. I think long and hard. Did Shivani ever talk about the King? 

No, I conclude. Rather, Shivani may have been avoiding talking about it. The King, that is.

I close my eyes in remembrance.

“Shivani, why did you become the Sun Knight?”

Kaspar was sleeping away while we rode on the edge of a farmer’s wagon. I think it was around the time Shivani had begun to teach me sign, a little more than a year after we met. We were not lovers then. Were we even friends, I wonder? We may have started to be. I wasn’t able to hold conversations in sign at all yet, though. We were moving, so Shivani couldn’t write into the dirt as they had predominantly at the time. So Shivani did what they did as an alternative, writing into my palm to communicate. It was always a bit difficult though, because Shivani always wore the bulky greaves for their armor.

[... to protect my family.]

“You have family, Shivani?” I remember the silent helmeted stare, as well as my embarrassment along with my struggle to explain. “It’s not that I’m saying you don’t have a family! It’s just, you’ve never mentioned them until now, and I…”

It was awkward. Awkward because I knew of exactly two family members I had. My gentle and beautiful mother, who had done her best for me even though she would have lived a better life had I not been born. A mother, who became a mother much too early involuntarily, and passed away just as quickly when I was around seven. The other, a Father who ruined my poor mother’s life on a whim, and had never been a true father. A man I wished wasn’t my father.

I think all of those thoughts had shown on my face then, too.

[... Yes.]

Shivani gently wrote into my hand.

[I have a lot of family, a tribe in fact. A lot of siblings, cousins, and those tied very thinly by blood.]

Though I could not see it, the warmth and comfort of their divinity enveloping mine were as if they had smiled.

[Would you like me to tell you about them?]

There’s knocks at the door, loud and echoing. A strangled noise comes from my throat as I sit up in surprise.

“Um—come in!” I call.

The pearly white doors of the guest bedroom are pushed open abruptly and the maid who had been escorting me and bringing me my meals up until now bursts in.

“Pardon me, Your Holiness, but we must rush to the drawing room!”

I look at her, puzzled, but her rush and excitement is starting to make me nervous.

“I apologize, but… where?”

She blinks and then gasps after realizing that I know little to nothing about the layout of the castle.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, but—oh, um, just follow me—quickly! Your Holiness!”