The Royal Banquet and a Hidden Identity

Looking at this, Anto’s schedule each day is incredibly packed.

Mula remarked, her gaze fixed on the notes in her hand, a sudden surge of admiration for Anto blossoming within her.

“Every day, after prayers, she performs acts of charity, then works tirelessly until her midday rest.

In the afternoons, she provides relief at the orphanage or offers aid in the slums, and her evenings are dedicated to studying theology and cultivating Holy Light…”

“Is this the schedule she arranged for herself?”

Tikka inquired, stepping closer to glance at the notes.

“Indeed, two months have passed like this; it’s truly remarkable that she’s managed to keep it up.”

“If it were someone like us, I doubt we could manage it,” Mula mused, tilting her head back.

“It is precisely because of this immense relief work for the common people that the Council finds itself unable to directly assume the Church’s weighty responsibilities.

After all, merely managing us, who are quite idle, is already a formidable task.”

“Anto’s reputation in Draynes City has largely been established,” Eric began, walking to a side table to pour himself a cup of tea.

“Rhys informed me that she’s now preparing to attend the royal banquet, which for Little Anto will be her first public appearance.

The significance of this occasion is self-evident.

I’ve spent these past few days visiting the mages’ quarters and have come to understand King Draynes’ almost fanatical anti-Church sentiments.

Tikka, have you received any intelligence from the Council?”

“I traded information regarding Draynes at the Council’s outpost,” Tikka replied.

“They are currently pressuring the border churches to submit, and they can no longer afford to wait.

This banquet itself could very well be a decisive confrontation.”

Mula, tapping on a bench, promptly added:

“A confrontation… does that mean a ‘Hongmen Banquet’ (TL Note: A Chinese idiom referring to a trap or a feast with ulterior motives, where one might be ambushed)?

The kind where, while enjoying a meal, five hundred swordsmen suddenly appear?”

“If we disregard some of the finer details, it’s essentially that kind of situation,” Tikka confirmed.

“Our objective should be to ensure Anto’s safety at the banquet, shouldn’t it? Will you be attending?”

“I won’t be,” Eric stated firmly.

“As I’ve said, our identities are not Anto’s subordinates; rather, we are the ones who support him from the shadows, protecting him when necessary until he truly matures beyond his fledgling stage.

We should observe Anto’s arrangements; he ought to have a plan for this.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then we will take it one step at a time.”

Just then, the door swung open, and Anto entered the room.

As he observed the three figures before him, a trace of weariness finally etched itself onto his face.

“I’ve returned.”

“Hmm, would you like to rest?”

Eric offered, walking over to hand him a glass of water.

“You should take a proper break.

You’ve been using Holy Light far too frequently out there, and that could take a toll on your body…”

“It’s fine, Teacher,” Anto responded with a smile.

“I feel that since mastering the method of use recently, I no longer expend Holy Light as if draining myself dry.

For now, it seems… I have enough.”

“Tomorrow evening, Bishop Rhys has been invited to King Draynes’ royal banquet.

I will accompany him as his disciple.

While the banquet is ostensibly to foster friendship, in reality…”

“It’s simply a coercion, isn’t it?” Mula interjected.

“So, Little Anto, have you devised a way to break through?

That is the royal palace, their home ground.

We can barely enter, only act as reinforcements from the outside.

In there, before so many noblewomen and prominent figures, he must be certain that you would never dare to openly defy him.”

“That is precisely why I must go,” Anto declared, his eyes wide with determination.

“In such a setting… if one can seize and command the initiative in a true social arena, it will undoubtedly spell disaster for the opposition.”

****

“Sister Antolia, are you attending the royal social ball with Bishop Rhys tonight?”

Early that morning, Sister Lu Wei and Sister Xi’er An had already gathered around Anto.

Anto paused for a moment, surprised, before responding with a smile.

“After all, as Bishop Rhys’s disciple, I suppose I should accompany my master to such a place,” Anto replied.

Upon hearing this, Lu Wei’s expression turned somewhat indignant.

“The men in those places are all lechers!

I can’t imagine what Bishop Rhys is thinking, sending a cute girl like Little Anto there.

She could easily be devoured by those big bad wolves, boohoo, I really don’t want Little Anto to leave!”

As Lu Wei spoke, she moved closer, nuzzling against Anto.

Anto, seemingly accustomed to Lu Wei’s overly effusive affection, remained silent.

Xi’er An, meanwhile, approached and said:

“If you are to attend such formal social events, you will need to dress up properly.

If there is anything you require, the Mother Superior said that whatever Anto needs, it can be prepared for you at any time.

Although we don’t have many ornaments left, since you will be representing the Draynes Church, we should at least…”

“No, there’s no need to trouble everyone,” Anto interjected, turning towards another side of the room.

“Bishop Rhys said he would make the preparations for me, so I can simply get ready there when the time comes.”

“Then at least let us help Little Anto change!” Lu Wei’s spirits lifted.

“After all, dressing up is quite difficult without assistance from others, huff huff, and Little Anto truly has such a good foundation, I really want to…”

“This… there’s no need to trouble Sister Lu Wei…”

As Anto spoke, a pair of hands gently rested on his shoulders.

The pink-haired Knight, standing behind him, interjected:

“Please allow me to handle this.”

“Lady Ilivy…” Lu Wei murmured, looking at the Knight.

Anto, meanwhile, felt a wave of relief wash over him.

‘After all, tasks like dressing up and changing clothes could easily expose his secret as a man.’

Now, with Ilivy, an insider, understanding his predicament and coming to his rescue in such a manner, it truly allowed him to breathe a sigh of relief.

Upon entering the dressing room, Ilivy produced a previously prepared box, along with the jewelry box left by Anto’s mother.

She then turned to him and asked:

“Then, Lord Anto, you may change here.

Do you require my assistance?”

“No, I’ll try it myself first,” Anto replied, his gaze fixed on the delicate face reflected in the mirror.

He opened the jewelry box, revealing a collection of ornaments exuding a potent aura of Holy Light: hairpins, brooches, necklaces, bow ties, various cross decorations, and gemstones, all laid out before him.

These had once belonged to the Saintess.

Anto picked up a cross pendant intricately carved with a rose pattern, fastening it around his neck.

At that moment, Ilivy, standing behind him, gently removed his nun’s hat, beginning to arrange his soft, golden long hair.

“Sister Ilivy…”

“Allow me to take care of this,” Ilivy said softly.

“I used to often style long hair for others this way.”