199. Preparation for Festival of Lust

The first golden rays of morning sunlight slipped through the arched windows of Ravenna’s chamber, spilling warmth across silken sheets embroidered with Herptian motifs. The light caught on the gold-threaded curtains, casting the room in an ethereal glow, like a sanctum of both luxury and power.Ravenna stirred, stretching languidly beneath the sheets. The coolness of the hot but still air brushed her skin, far gentler than the oppressive summer heat that once plagued the island. Winter was settling in, its crisp breath seeping into even the deepest stone halls of the castle.

Propping herself upright, she let her thin silk gown slide down one shoulder, the fabric clinging before pooling at her waist. She sighed, rubbing her temples with a drowsy smile.

“I keep forgetting to do something about the heat… Perhaps it’s time I finally start looking into electricity,” she muttered, her voice still husky from sleep. “Given how urgent things have become, securing the island with new infrastructure might not be something I can procrastinate anymore.”

Her words lingered in the golden quiet until the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hall. With a soft clap of Ravenna’s hands, the chamber doors swung open, and Alice entered in a rush, flanked by a small retinue of maids bearing trays of oils, perfumes, and fresh garments.

“I stalled High Priest James, Aurora, Sarah, and the others the whole day yesterday,” Alice declared, already moving briskly to sort through Ravenna’s wardrobe. “But I don’t think I can keep making excuses much longer.”

Ravenna gave a faint smile, standing as the maids bustled around her. “You won’t have to. We’ll hold a meeting in my study to decide how we move forward.”

The maids bowed quickly and swept into motion, filling the marble tub in the adjoining chamber with steaming water laced with lavender petals and rose oil. Ravenna, with practiced ease, let her gown fall away, the silken whisper vanishing into a heap at her feet. She sank slowly into the bath, the heat enveloping her in a cloud of perfumed steam.

As the maids knelt to gently scrub her arms and back, Ravenna leaned her head against the cool rim of the tub, speaking in an even tone. “After the meeting, summon Blacksmith Nille. There is… something important I need to discuss with him.”

Alice, still rifling through a selection of dresses, nodded curtly, eyes flicking between colors and fabrics as if weighing not just fashion, but strategy.

When the bath was finished, the transformation began. Oils smoothed into her skin left Ravenna glowing faintly under the sunlight. The chosen gown was opulent yet precise in the image it created. Sleeveless and backless, its plunging neckline dipped between her breasts, held only by a delicate chain of gold that disappeared beneath her navel. The fabric clung to her figure like liquid silk, then split at the hips into flowing slits that revealed the toned lines of her thighs with every step. Gem-crusted cuffs clasped at her legs, shimmering as though in challenge to the sunlight itself. From her shoulders, a sheer cape of gossamer fabric cascaded like mist, its transparency offering the barest illusion of modesty.

When at last she stood fully adorned, she was no mere duchess or noblewoman, but the living emblem of the Festival of Lust itself, the Apostle of Herptian in flesh.

Ravenna fastened a single golden bracelet around her wrist and glanced toward Alice. “I’ll have breakfast after the meeting.” Her tone was final, commanding yet calm.

Alice bowed slightly, already snapping instructions at the maids to tidy the chamber. Ravenna, with a regal poise that made her earlier drowsiness seem like a fading dream, swept from the room toward her study, the silken whisper of her gown trailing behind her.

15 minutes later, Ravenna’s Office, Lord’s Castle, Kim City, Kim Dukedom, Ancorna Empire

The heavy oak doors to Ravenna’s office burst open, the scent of incense clinging faintly to the figure that strode in. High Priest James moved with a kind of restless urgency, his robes swaying, his usually composed face lit with a feverish excitement that bordered on desperation. His old yet youthful features betrayed both awe and impatience.

“Your Highness!” he exclaimed, voice booming through the chamber. “It was the Saintess, wasn’t it!? The Divine Light! Where is she? The Lady of Divine herself, let this old servant bask in even a fragment of her presence!”

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Ravenna, seated calmly at her desk with documents neatly arrayed before her, didn’t even flinch at his theatrics. She merely tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly with amusement, and allowed a smile to curve her lips.“Yes,” she answered lightly. “It was her. And no, you may not.”

The abrupt refusal hit High Priest James like a slap. He blinked, then sputtered in disbelief. “W-What do you mean, Your Highness!? The Festival of Lust is nearly upon us! If we reveal the Saintess during the celebrations, declared publicly as affiliated to the Herptian Faith, it will be a devastating blow to every rival religion across the continents!”

Without waiting for permission, High Priest James sank into the sofa opposite her desk, leaning forward with trembling hands. His voice was almost pleading, but the weight behind his words was iron.

“You promised me, your highness,” he pressed. “You promised to aid in spreading Herptian faith throughout the Eastern Continent in exchange for the Church’s support. You cannot withhold her now!”

Ravenna’s dark eyes lingered on him for a long moment, her smile fading into something colder, sharper. She noticed how his fingers shook, barely, but unmistakably, as he tried to mask his fear behind conviction. Even under the shadow of her possible fury, he had chosen to push his argument before she’d said a word. Bold. Desperate. Dangerous.

At last, she spoke, her tone deliberate, every syllable carrying quiet authority.

“I am of Herptian Faith,” she said softly. “An Apostle at that. Do you think I would betray the faith I embody? I never said I would deny the Saintess. Nor did I ever claim she would not walk the path of Herptian.”

High Priest James’s eyes widened, his whole frame leaning forward in anticipation. “Then—!”

“First,” Ravenna interrupted smoothly, resting her chin on her hand, “calm yourself. If you continue with this appalling lack of manners, I’ll throw you out the window myself.”

For a moment, silence reigned. High Priest James froze, then sucked in a deep breath, visibly forcing composure back into his body. He clasped his hands, lowered his gaze respectfully, and finally nodded. “I… apologize. Forgive me, Your Highness. It is only—” his voice softened with genuine fervor “I see in this the greatest opportunity our faith has had in centuries. To finally secure legitimacy in the Eastern Continent, after so long in this remote region.”

Ravenna leaned back in her chair, regarding him with calm calculation. “I understand. Tell me, then, has the Central Herptian Headquarters already sent word to you?”

“Yes.” High Priest James straightened, the fire in his eyes reigniting. “Since the moment I sent my report about the Divine Light, they have not ceased their correspondence. The Cathedral itself answered, sealed by the Holy Pope’s own authority. I have been granted a full mandate to secure the Saintess by any means necessary. They have already requested I make ready a dock. More priests are being dispatched from the Western Continent as we speak.”

Ravenna had expected it, but even so, the speed with which the Church moved unsettled her. Faster than Solious, whose seat of power was leagues closer. Efficient. Ruthless. Desperate.

“I see,” she murmured, her fingers drumming lightly against the desk. “I feared they would drag their feet, being so far away. But they’ve moved quicker than I imagined.”

High Priest James’s expression sharpened. “So, Your Highness, who is she? What do you want in exchange? I know you. You avoided me all of yesterday because you were scheming, weren’t you?”

Ravenna smirked faintly. “Now you’re beginning to sound like yourself again. Very well. Three things.”

High Priest James’s entire posture shifted, gone was the flustered zealot, and in his place sat the seasoned priest, silent and serious, listening with intent.

“One,” Ravenna began, her voice crisp, “the Saintess stays within the dukedom. Or wherever she herself wishes. I will not allow the Church to whisk her away to the Western Continent under the guise of ‘safety’ or ‘tradition.’”

High Priest James pressed his lips together but nodded, knowing he could not argue.

“Two,” Ravenna continued, “she is not to be pressured into anything by the Church. Rituals I can understand but no forced declarations, no duties imposed upon her. She chooses her path, and the Church abides.”

His brow twitched, displeasure flickering across his face. But he could not deny it, forcing a Saintess had never ended well in history. He inclined his head reluctantly.

“And three.” Ravenna’s tone hardened, her gaze sharp as steel. “She belongs to me. As every citizen of this island belongs to me. She will keep her position, her rights as my property, her standing outside of the Faith exactly as it is. She is not simply the Church’s Saintess, she is my possession as is everyone on this island. That does not change.”

The room fell heavy with silence. High Priest James swallowed, his throat bobbing visibly, before reaching inside his robes. From within, he produced the Pope’s seal, its golden edges gleaming faintly with divine light. Clutching it tightly, he raised it high and declared, voice trembling but firm:

“I swear it. On the Justice of Goddess Solious herself, the Herptian Faith will uphold these conditions.”

The divine glow of the seal filled the room, casting shifting halos of gold across the walls. Slowly, it faded.

Ravenna exhaled quietly, leaning back in her chair. That had been… far easier than expected. Yet perhaps it should not surprise her. The Saintess was no ordinary prize, she was the highest religious priority of any faith in existence.

High Priest James lowered the seal, his face shining with relief. Then, almost childlike, he leaned forward again, eagerness breaking through. “Now, now may I meet her?”

Ravenna smirked, her lips curling into the sharp smile of a raven toying with its prey. “In due time. But first… why don’t you tell me how far along the preparations for the Festival of Lust have come?”