Memoirs of Your Local Small-time Villainess

The grand banquet hall began to empty as attendants gently ushered guests towards the exit. Scarlett wove her way through the thinning crowd towards Trista, the knight’s steely gaze briefly locking onto her before dismissively turning away, refocusing on her duties.

That did irk Scarlett somewhat, though she imagined the woman had her reasons for disliking her. Unfortunately for Trista, Scarlett lacked both the tact and the inclination to let the woman’s animosity dissuade her.

“Dame Trista,” Scarlett greeted as she stopped in front of the knight.

Trista’s attention slowly returned to Scarlett, her stern countenance morphing into an undisguised scowl. “What do you want, Scarlett?” she asked, her words clipped.

A vein pulsed at Scarlett’s temple.

On second thought, maybe this was a bad idea. Standing before Trista like this, she was acutely reminded that the knight was one of the few individuals for whom the original harbored enough dislike that it carried over to her.

Allowing herself just a moment to compose herself, Scarlett masked her own irritation behind a veneer of civility. “I merely wished to exchange greetings and pose a few questions. It has been quite some time since our last interaction, after all.”

Technically, she’d never actually conversed with the woman herself.

“I know,” Trista responded, her tone distant. “I was counting myself fortunate for that — until now.” She straightened her posture, the light glinting off her armor. “I’m on duty, Scarlett, so I’m going to have to ask that you don’t disturb me.”

“This will not take long.” Scarlett’s eyes scanned their surroundings, noting the curious glances from some of the nearby guests and the wary looks from other Solar Knights. Returning her focus to Trista, she continued, “I was surprised to see the Solar Knights present for tonight’s proceedings. Is Sir Leon present as well?”

Trista’s eyes narrowed dangerously, a hint of threat colouring her voice. “I’m sorry, but I see no reason why I should disclose that information to you. I have no interest in complicating matters for my friend, and I think the vice-captain has enough on his plate already.”

Scarlett’s fingers twitched slightly at her side, but she maintained her composure. “…Your response is understandable, given the nature of our past…interactions. However, I believe you are the only one still caught up in the past. My relationship with Sir Leon is not as strained as it once was, in case you were unaware.”

“I’ve heard as much. Frankly, I’ve heard more about you in the last six months than I ever cared to. It’s as though you’ve become a completely different person.” Trista’s accusatory tone suggested she found that hard to believe.

Scarlett met her eyes unflinchingly, tempted to respond with her own scathing retort. For a couple of seconds, both of them stood motionless, the sounds of the banquet hall fading into the background. Eventually, Scarlett relaxed her gaze.

Despite her emotional aversion to the knight, she didn’t hold any personal animosity towards Trista. Perhaps she could afford a modicum of tolerance, just for today.

“My priorities have…evolved,” she said with a slight shake of her head, causing a stray lock of red hair to fall across her forehead. She brushed it aside with a light frown. “But that is hardly relevant now. I simply wish to know if Sir Leon is present tonight and his whereabouts, if so. As I am sure you are aware, he has been occupied as of late, making it challenging for me to discuss certain matters with him in person.”

Trista remained silent, studying Scarlett as if trying to see through her. Finally, she exhaled sharply, her attention drifting back to the remaining guests in the hall. “He’s here. Half of the order was summoned for tonight, and the vice-captain is in charge of overseeing things in the Emperor’s Forum.”

“I see,” Scarlett murmured. That was where the conclave and relevant discussions would be held. If Leon was in charge of security there, it likely meant she wouldn’t have a chance to speak with him during the evening.

Her gaze drifted down to the sleek lines of Trista’s black-and-gold armor, lingering briefly on the ornate sword at her hip before scanning the other Solar Knights stationed around the room. “Do you anticipate any disturbances tonight?” she asked.

Neither she nor Beldon had any intelligence suggesting a specific threat to the evening’s proceedings. The Cabal was always a concern, sure, but she was curious if the Solar Knights possessed any additional information.

Trista’s expression tightened. “It’s just a precaution, given the current circumstances.”

Scarlett regarded her thoughtfully. Was that truly the case? Everything she knew did suggest the palace was far from an easy target, and Beldon was likely one of the most well-informed individuals in the empire. It would almost be odd if the Solar Knights possessed more information than the two of them together.

“…Very well. I will not trouble you further,” she said, turning to leave. A thought struck her, and she hesitated for a moment, glancing back at Trista. “On another matter…”

The knight’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Yes?”

Scarlett paused, the words dying on her lips. “…No, I suppose it is inconsequential at this point. Farewell for now.”

She had briefly considered apologising for crashing Trista’s wedding, but the words didn’t feel right on her tongue. Besides, it wasn’t as if she had caused that much of a mess at the time.

As she walked away, Scarlett observed the clusters of guests still making their way towards the exits at the center of the hall, which presumably led to the Emperor’s Forum. Amidst the sea of finery and jewels, she spotted Lady Withersworth, still accompanied by Duke Valentino and his entourage, edging towards one of the exits. The older lady seemed to notice her as well, and their eyes met just as an austere voice called out from behind.

“Baroness Hartford.”

Halting mid-stride, Scarlett turned to identify the speaker. A woman stood before her, adorned with an intricately carved gold mask that caught the ambient light around them. Her onyx hair cascaded in a sleek tail down her shoulders, and she was dressed in ornate red robes embroidered with golden thread.

Deacon Solnate.

Scarlett appraised the woman, her gaze flicking to the two priests flanking the deacon. They wore the customary red robes as well, their faces obscured by white masks composed of intersecting squares and draped cloths.

“This is unexpected,” Scarlett said deliberately. “Greetings, Deacon. Is there something you wish to discuss with me?”

“There is,” the woman replied tersely. “Perhaps you could spare me a moment as we make our way to the Forum?”

Scarlett’s eyes lingered on the deacon for a beat longer, her eyes searching for any hint of emotion behind her golden mask. With a subtle tilt of her head, she then signaled Lady Withersworth to proceed without her. The older noblewoman, seeming to catch on, offered a gracious smile in return before departing with Duke Valentino and the others.

Turning back to the deacon, Scarlett gestured towards the nearest exit. “Shall we?”

Deacon Solnate’s gaze swept over the bustling guests who still hadn’t left the chamber. “If you don’t mind, let’s wait until the crowd thins out.” With a fluid motion of her gloved hand, the two priests flanking her silently took their leave.

Scarlett watched them disappear into the throng before refocusing on the deacon. What was this about? She hadn’t expected the deacon to seek her out tonight. Could it be related to Raimond?

A few minutes passed in silence as the opulent chamber gradually emptied, leaving only a few stragglers and ever-vigilant Solar Knights. To most, such silence would be uncomfortable or stifling, but the woman before Scarlett didn’t appear to have any such qualms. That, at least, was a relief.

“Should we start moving?” Deacon Solnate finally asked, her voice breaking the quiet.

Scarlett cast a final glance around the hall, her eyes briefly locking with Trista’s. The Solar Knight, remaining vigilant, seemed to be dividing her attention between her duties and occasional furtive looks in Scarlett’s direction.

“Yes, let us,” Scarlett replied. “Now, what is this about? This is the first time I have conversed directly with a deacon of the Followers of Ittar, and I must admit I am curious as to why you would approach me.”

“I have been eager to speak with you for some time, Baroness Hartford,” the woman said. “But don’t worry. I understand this isn’t the most suitable venue for an extended discussion, so I will keep things brief.”

As they walked, Deacon Solnate’s hand moved to a pendant hanging from her neck — a diminutive silver piece housing a polished black gem. At her touch, the gem emitted a soft, pulsating glow, and the distant sounds of the guests further ahead seemed to fade, as if muffled by an invisible barrier.

“If you were concerned about eavesdroppers, that won’t be an issue.”

Scarlett studied the pendant with undisguised interest. Presumably, it was an artifact of some sort. Raimond had used something similar before, though his had blocked out all surrounding noise. This one seemed more subtle in its effects.

It reminded her that she still needed to get something like it. Such an artifact was on the list of items she had demanded from the Rising Isle’s council in exchange for her assistance, along with other valuable concessions.

Returning her attention to Deacon Solnate, Scarlett found herself briefly pondering what lay behind that impassive mask. “So, what did you wish to discuss?” she asked.

“Deacon Abram wasn’t mistaken about your straightforwardness,” the deacon noted.

“…Deacon Abram?”

“Father Abraham, though I suspect you’re already aware of his true identity. If his reports are to be believed, you’re likely privy to a wealth of information that should be well beyond your reach. He does have a flair for exaggerating things, however, so sometimes it can be difficult discerning what to trust.”

Scarlett’s eyes narrowed. “His reports?”

What kind of reports were they talking about here, exactly?

Deacon Solnate maintained her detached demeanour as they exited the banquet hall, stepping into a lavishly decorated corridor. Lavish tapestries adorned the walls, with intricately carved marble columns standing sentinel along the passage, and ornate chandeliers casting a warm, golden light that danced over the polished floor.

“It shouldn’t come as a shock that the Followers have been monitoring your actions closely these past months,” the deacon continued, her voice low. “Presenting one of the Chalices of Canon during the Providing Ceremony, uncovering ancient Zuverian ruins, locating one of the original deacon’s veils, your involvement in the Citadel incident — all these events have drawn attention, and Deacon Abram was responsible for investigating these matters.”

Scarlett scrutinised the woman carefully. “I did have my suspicions,” she admitted.

“Deacon Abram had quite a lot to say about you,” Deacon Solnate said.

“That does not surprise me,” Scarlett replied, wondering where this was going.

“Do you know what he said in his first report about you?”

“I am not sure I want to.”

“He described you in one sentence: It was his genuine belief that we had greatly underestimated the importance you might play in the conflicts to come.” The deacon fell silent, her masked gaze seeming to momentarily drift to a nearby tapestry. The complex weaving depicted a hero clad in golden white, the sun at their back, in fierce combat with a monstrous dragon. “Despite his…proclivities, I do not know Deacon Abram to make such statements lightly. Initially, I had my reservations, but based on what I have witnessed since then, I’m inclined to believe his assessment might be accurate.”

A small furrow appeared on Scarlett’s brow. While this was not an entirely unexpected evaluation considering everything she’d been involved in up till now, she’d hoped Raimond would divert the Quorum’s attention away from her. This seemed to be the opposite of that.

As if reading Scarlett’s thoughts, Deacon Solnate added, “I am the only one who received this report.” The woman finally turned to face Scarlett directly. “Although you remain a figure of interest, my fellow deacons are preoccupied with their own concerns and aren’t focusing on you as much as they perhaps should. In fact, Deacon Abram’s testimony regarding the events that transpired during the Vile’s attempted manifestation likely has only a few of them even considering you at all.”

Scarlett allowed her frown to fade as she met the woman’s eyes, covered as they were. “I see. While the affairs of the Quorum are hardly mine to comment on, it does concern me somewhat that they would have reason to regard me at all. Nonetheless, I am even more intrigued that you chose to share this with me at all. I presume there is a reason for that.”

Deacon Solnate studied her with a penetrating look for several seconds, the silence between them seeming to become charged with unspoken questions. “…I want to know the nature of your partnership with Deacon Abram.”

Scarlett raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth turning up in a slight smile. She looked ahead as they continued down the corridor, passing a Palace Guard standing at attention. “What makes you so certain we are in a partnership? True, we did collaborate during the Citadel incident and explored the Sunfire Shrine together, but those were merely temporary arrangements. Nothing out of the ordinary, given the circumstances.”

“The other deacons did not receive Deacon Abram’s original assessment of you. They might have believed that statement.” The deacon paused, her words hanging in the air. “During the hearings, they only saw Deacon Abram defending his actions, his seeming insistence on shouldering all the responsibility for both the negative and positive outcomes, and his minimisation of your role. But considering what he had confided in me earlier, I find that hard to believe.”

“And that alone is reason enough to suspect a partnership between us?” Scarlett asked.

“With Raimond, there is always logic behind his actions, no matter how convoluted they may appear,” the woman replied. “In this case, despite the restrictions placed on him following the inquiry, he has been urging me for resources, urging investigations with little apparent purpose.”

“And I suppose you believe there is a connection between these ‘investigations’ and my association with him?”

“Is there one?”

Scarlett did not answer at first, considering her response carefully. The soft click of their heels against the floor filled the temporary silence.

“…Perhaps there is,” she eventually said. “These investigations of his… Would I be correct in assuming they pertain to certain Quorum members and their…unsanctioned activities?”

“…So you are involved,” the deacon stated plainly.

“I have made no such admission.”

“You didn’t need to. Deacon Abram has been unwavering in his convictions lately. More so than I’ve seen him in years. He clearly has a trusted source, and you, Baroness, were the most obvious suspect.” A flicker of emotion finally crept into the woman’s voice, tinged with frustrated exasperation. “Despite leaving the bulk of the work to me, he refused to share this with me.”

Scarlett was actually slightly surprised that Raimond had kept this information secret even from Deacon Solnate. She knew he trusted the woman more than anyone else among the Followers, so she’d expected him to involve her in some fashion. Was he trying to maintain Scarlett’s trust?

Maybe it was a good thing that the deacon had approached her tonight, if only to make things easier for everyone involved.

“Very well, Deacon,” Scarlett said. “If that is the case, there is little value in me continuing to feign ignorance. You are correct in that Deacon Abram and I have been working together, and I have provided him with certain…sensitive information regarding some of our esteemed Quorum members who have been engaging in activities they should not.”

“I have been investigating these issues for years with little success. How did you come by your information? More importantly, how certain are you that it’s true?” Deacon Solnate asked.

“That is not something I can disclose, but its accuracy is something that your own inquiries will no doubt confirm. If you can persuade Deacon Abram, perhaps he will divulge more.”

Scarlett honestly wouldn’t mind it too much if Deacon Solnate knew a bit more about her partnership with Raimond. The woman’s position as a deacon appeared more stable than his, so her support could probably be more helpful. That said, Scarlett wasn’t that familiar with Solnate, so she wasn’t sure how much it was safe to reveal. It seemed wiser to leave such matters to Raimond, who could better filter details according to his own judgement.

“I will see what he has to say, then,” the woman replied. “On that note, you wouldn’t happen to know of his current whereabouts?”

Scarlett turned to her with mild surprise. “Were you not aware that he is currently a guest at my estate here in Elystead?”

Though she couldn’t see the deacon’s face, the air around her almost seemed to freeze. “Is that so…? Then, Baroness, would you mind if I paid your estate a visit?”

“…You are welcome to do so, if you wish.”

Scarlett mentally apologised to Raimond for apparently having sold him out just now. It seemed she had just inadvertently complicated his stay.

Their conversation dwindled as they approached the end of the corridor. The muffled murmur of voices grew louder, heralding their arrival at their destination. They stepped into an expansive, magnificently adorned chamber within the palace — the Emperor’s Forum.

The room’s domed ceiling was an artistic marvel, painted with colorful scenes and mythological figures, while colossal crystal chandeliers hung from above, casting a radiant glow throughout the space. Ornate banners draped the walls, their rich fabrics embellished with the emblems and colours of various noble houses and legends. Between tall, arched windows that framed the starlit sky stood towering marble pillars, their surfaces streaked with veins of gold and silver that caught the light, creating illusions of movement.

At the heart of the Forum, a massive circular table dominated the space. Its polished surface bore a detailed map of the empire, each region and landmark meticulously rendered. High-backed chairs upholstered in deep velvet surrounded the table, already seating several figures. At the head of the table, on a raised platform, stood the emperor’s throne, carved from a single piece of white jade and gilded with gold filigree depicting the sun’s rays. Though currently empty, its presence did command attention.

Beyond this central area, tiered galleries with rows of plush seats ascended towards the back and sides of the chamber. These were bustling with guests engaged in hushed conversations.

Scarlett’s eyes swept across the room, recognising several of the prominent individuals seated around the table, including Duke Valentino’s stout stature and Lord Withersworth’s thinner, more refined figure. Beyond them, there were other people that Scarlett had been introduced to briefly through Lady Withersworth.

“We’ll need to continue our conversation later,” Deacon Solnate said, her tone turning businesslike.

Scarlett gave a curt nod. The time had come to participate in the conclave.