The Beginning Of Ambition

“Huh? Sister Lyset! What’s wrong?”

“Ah…”

Iselin hurriedly pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at Lyset’s tearful eyes. Then she tightly embraced her small body.

Behind them, Adelin smirked knowingly.

“This little nunling isn’t already dreaming of romance with the heir of the Duchy the moment she sheds her apprenticeship, right~?”

“What nonsense!”

At Iselin’s scolding, Adelin waved her hand dismissively, as if unfazed.

“No, no. Girls this age always imagine princes from fairy tales. Such feelings come to everyone—just because she wears a nun’s habit and is young doesn’t mean we can forbid it outright, does it?”

That was certainly true.

At Adelin’s rather reasonable words, Iselin nodded.

“That’s true. It’s fine, Sister Lyset. At your age, it’s natural to grow up with your heart fluttering. Looking at a balcony in longing won’t make you a great sinner in your faith.”

“If anything’s a bigger sin, it’s Iselin enjoying my kisses too much.”

At Adelin’s mischievous joke, Iselin glared at her angrily, then gently stroked Lyset’s back.

“In time, it’ll all pass anyway… Once we shed our apprenticeship, we’re nuns for life.”

“Mm…”

In Iselin’s arms, within that warmth, Lyset wiped her tears.

‘Christoph. The heir to the Duchy doomed by me, the one forever out of reach…’

There was no helping it. She was the executor of prophecy.

Lyset finally decided to abandon her budding feelings for him.

To do that, she first had to keep her body away. She had to make it impossible to meet him again—whatever it took.

The next day, Lyset requested a change of volunteer work. She was reassigned to service in the convent’s dining hall.

Dining hall duty was even harder than library service. Her main tasks were always washing and peeling mountains of potatoes and onions, or scrubbing hundreds of dishes after meals.

Every other day, after being responsible for three meals on rotation, her entire body screamed in pain.

Still, by keeping so busy, Lyset was slowly trying to forget Christoph.

Christoph had grown restless ever since Lyset completely vanished from the library. He couldn’t ask Odense, nor could he run around in that quiet space, so he could only burn with frustration.

In his mind, it was certain Lyset had some curiosity about him. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have told him his name with such a smile and flushed cheeks.

Of course, she was a nun, but that wasn’t a problem for Christoph now. If anything, that aura of mystery only fueled his stormy youthful imagination.

In the end, at times like these, Hilde was most helpful.

“Hilde, do nuns also change their volunteer assignments sometimes?”

“Of course. There’s no rule that says once you start volunteering you must remain there until death. Depending on the workload, some places get many volunteers while others lack hands. So the convent reallocates assignments accordingly.”

“Hm…”

“Why do you ask, Young Master?”

“I thought I’d revisit the infirmary and soup kitchen I went to before.”

“A truly noble thought. I’ll inform you when the preparations are ready.”

But no matter how many times he visited the infirmary and soup kitchen, Lyset was never there. He could only guess she was serving inside the convent.

‘Maybe I burdened her… or she was punished for speaking to me…’

His worries grew deeper, but there was nothing more he could do.

He could only wait for the great Mass of the Harvest Thanksgiving Festival in the fall. By then, he would surely see Lyset again from the second-floor balcony of the Nastrand Cathedral.

Christoph sighed and gazed from his window at the far-off spire of the convent.

At that moment—

“My son, why are you sighing so?”

The Duchess entered the room with her maid Olga.

“Mother, it’s nothing.”

“Children your age always scream silently with their bodies and faces, while denying and hiding it with their mouths. But that’s not always a good thing.”

“Why not?”

“Because as the future lord, you must also have the wisdom to share your worries and seek counsel.”

“The future lord? But Father is still vigorous and governing ably. How could I…”

“The life of the body and the life of the spirit are different things. And for a man, that vitality is shown in whether he has ambition and passion. One day you’ll understand. Though amusingly, women often realize it first.”

“……”

“I’ve already heard that you visited the infirmary and soup kitchen, bringing gifts and comfort. Already, praise of your virtue as the future lord is spreading high. Ohohoho.”

“That’s not it at all! That’s not why I went.”

The Duchess looked at her blushing son, her eyes full of affection.

“So then, what worries my future lord? Tell me.”

Christoph, staring silently at the floor, carefully opened his mouth.

“It’s about a certain woman.”

“Oh my, a woman?”

The Duchess widened her eyes in surprise.

Well, at Christoph’s age, it was a natural concern. But given his position in the castle, his worry carried far more weight than that of an ordinary youth.

“Olga, step outside for a while.”

After dismissing her maid, the Duchess smiled gently and asked.

“So, which noble maiden has captured my future lord’s heart? Tell me this fairy tale.”

“I don’t think it’s a fairy tale.”

“Hm? Then you mean she’s from a common family, not nobility? Even so, I don’t mind. You know I’m not one to judge by status or background.”

“Can I truly tell you?”

“Of course. I am your mother, and I’ll do my best to understand and support whatever thoughts my son has.”

“She’s a nun.”

“…!!!”

A shock far greater than before struck the Duchess.

Silence fell.

Suddenly, the Duchess remembered the Christmas Mass, when Christoph had murmured “She’s really pretty” about a nun his age who came forward for the special hymn.

“So, a nun, is it…”

“That’s why I’m troubled.”

“What is there to be troubled about?”

“What?”

This time, Christoph was the one left speechless.

“A man full of ambition can seize a nation, and from that foothold seize a continent. Compared to that, what difficulty is there in seizing one nun?”

“Mother, but there’s still canon law.”

“If you truly have your heart set, what could stop you? A man must grow strong precisely for such times.”

“To grow strong?”

“If canon law blocks you from taking her, then find the strength to break that law. If the Cathedral blocks you, find the means to topple the Cathedral.”

“To break canon law, to topple the Cathedral?”

It was terrifying talk. Yet Christoph recalled his mother had once joked about such things on the balcony.

“Come to think of it, you once said from the balcony, ‘If you want to hold a nun in your arms, first topple the High Priest and the convent Prioress.’”

“And that’s only natural. Well? Does your desire for that nun not reach even that height?”

“……”

Christoph clenched his fist tightly, his eyes blazing, trembling all over.

Then the Duchess slowly spoke.

“The strength I want for my son must be great enough to begin with seizing that nun and then stretch across all Nordenheim. If you resolve yourself to that, this mother will aid you fully.”

“You’d help me?”

“Do you plan to live forever as the Duke of a mere duchy, bowing to the Holy Empire’s gaze? If you gain strength, you can make Nordenheim a kingdom. Do you understand? I want my son to become that man.”

The Duchess smiled, kissed Christoph’s forehead, and left with a laugh. Christoph, left behind, muttered, “Strength… strength…”

As summer passed into autumn, the convent began preparations for the Harvest Thanksgiving Mass. Once again, Lyset was chosen for the special hymn choir and joined rehearsals.

With adulthood (in Nastrand and all Nordenheim, eighteen was the age of majority) approaching next year, Lyset grew taller and blossomed in beauty day by day. Whenever she passed, the nuns turned to stare, while peers and slightly older girls whispered jealous gossip.

Adelin and Iselin were quite proud that Lyset shared their room. Roze too seemed not to dislike the attention, often taking chances to neatly comb Lyset’s black hair.

“Part of a nun keeping her body pure is also cherishing its worth.”

Lyset was so beautiful one almost wanted to weave her a crown of pink fireweed or thistle flowers.

Moreover, in this year’s special hymn, Lyset had a solo part. Because of that, she was excused from dining hall duty to practice her solo.

That solo—she was sure Christoph would be on the second-floor balcony watching.

The young heart she had tried so hard to ignore began to tremble.

Time flowed on, and finally the day of the Harvest Thanksgiving Mass arrived.

At dawn, after her final rehearsal, Lyset changed into the choir robe and sat in the back row, waiting for the Mass to begin.

Soon, the bells rang to signal the beginning of the Mass. Priests and nuns entered and sat. On the second-floor balconies, the invited guests—always the same faces as ever—took their places.

Lyset knew at once from the feeling: behind her, from the central balcony, a young man’s eyes were fixed on her.

But she did not react, keeping her gaze firmly forward. In her head, she recited the Hymn of Night and focused on the dream it invoked.

Because she had repeated the Hymn of Night so often, during the creed she nearly slipped and said aloud: “Bright moonlit sky, rise, rise, warriors worshipping Olrun…”

In truth, Lyset always meditated and confessed not to the Lord but to Olrun and Manafreya in every creed, prayer, hymn, or sermon. She never wavered or grew lax in that faith.

But right now, she felt a confusion and tension she couldn’t deny.

Meanwhile, as soon as the balcony doors opened, Christoph rushed up and searched for Lyset first of all.

He spotted her at once, sitting in the back row among the choir. He almost called out, but couldn’t—so he only gazed at her desperately. And yet, though she surely knew he was there, Lyset never looked back.

In the end, all Christoph could do was sigh.

The Mass began, unheard and unseen to him, and soon the choir members in the back row began to rise.

Lyset too stood and turned back. Though she didn’t look at him, Christoph was content enough just to see her face from above.

In the half-year since he’d last seen her, she had grown taller and even more beautiful. Christoph could barely contain his feverish excitement.

At last, the special hymn began.

As the prelude played, Lyset walked forward alone from the center of the choir.

Gasps and sighs arose not only from the priests and nuns but from all around the second-floor balconies.

Christoph too held his breath completely as he looked upon her.

Even Morten and Fynel, who had stirred suspicion ten months ago at Christmas Mass after glimpsing Lyset’s hair and eyes, let much of their doubt fade as they listened to her beautiful voice.

Lyset’s eyes fixed firmly on the front doors. Even as she sang, her gaze did not waver.

She had practiced and memorized the song countless times; she could sing it without watching the conductor’s baton, without following the melody.

But one thing was clear: if she met Christoph’s eyes, she would not be able to sing.

So she stared with all her might at the distant doors, doing her best not to notice the large front balcony in her peripheral vision.

After finishing her solo with that beautiful voice, she returned to her seat and stood facing forward.

And then—it was inevitable.

No god in the world could stop it.

Lyset’s eyes turned to the second-floor balcony, and she met the gaze of the handsome young man who yearned for her.

“Ah…”

As the choir continued, Lyset mouthed words soundlessly, her eyes fixed as if bewitched on Christoph.

Christoph was the same. The fact that Lyset still thought of him—and not with hatred or disappointment—made his heart pound madly.

“She truly is beautiful, seeing her again. One could believe she’s the most beautiful in the Duchy. Do you want her that badly?”

The Duchess approached Christoph with a smile and spoke.

“Beyond words…”

“A man who yearns desperately is always alluring. And that yearning is the greatest virtue a ruler can have.”

Her eyes shifted to the aging lord, dozing off, reduced now to nothing but lust.

“I want my son, the future lord, to harbor such overflowing ambition…”

“Thank you, Mother.”

“Thank me? Hardly. Thanks to you, I finally get to play an interesting game of chess in my otherwise dull life.”

Her words carried heavy meaning.

“Remember this… Of all powers, the strongest power comes from the sword before you.”