In the church of Arion, priests, bishops, holy knights, and other members were all on their knees praying to their god.
Those who weren’t praying were quietly handling their affairs, not to disrupt the people who were praying, as that was highly disrespectful.
Suddenly, the chapel doors flung open, startling everyone in the building and disrupting their prayers. Everyone stood up and turned around to see who was the cause of the unholy, ungodly commotion.
"Pope! Pope, where are you!"
"Prince Beryl, show some respect! You are in the house of God and are interrupting our prayer time!" A bishop said, raising his voice with slight anger.
Beryl gave the man a confused look before pulling out his sword and brandishing its tip at the Bishop’s neck.
"Talk to me like that again, and I’ll shove this sword down your fucking throat." He hissed with anger.
The bishop gulped, and he was positive that he had wet himself. "Y-Yes, Prince Beryl."
"Good. Ants like you need to know their place. Now take me to the pope. I have important business to discuss with him."
The Bishop led Beryl down elaborate halls with intricate decorations and ornaments. Paintings that cost hundreds of gold were hung up on the walls, and pottery that only higher-tier nobles would be able to afford was placed all throughout the corridor.
Finally, they arrived at the pope’s location.
The bishop gulped before speaking. "E-Excuse me, sir Pope?"
"Didn’t I say I didn’t want to be bothered for the rest of the day?" The Pope asked from behind the door, his voice clearly agitated.
"It’s the prince, sir, Prince Beryl. He’s here to speak with you."
Silence came through the door for a minute before the Pope responded.
"Let him in." He answered.
The door opened, and the bishop bowed before turning to leave as he had finished what he came there for.
Beryl walked into the Pope’s study, closing the door behind him. He sat down on a couch and grabbed one of the pastries on the table in front of him, eating it without permission.
"What brings you here so soon? We’re supposed to be meeting in two weeks." The Pope asked, flipping through documents.
"My sister, Amber. She’s onto us." He admitted, swallowing hard.
"And what do you mean by that?"
"Earlier, she came to me and told me that attacking on my father’s birthday is a stupid idea. It’s like she already knew what we planned to do! Could there be spies among us?"
The Pope hated working with Beryl. The boy was an idiot and stressful to deal with. He rubbed his tired eyes, questioning why he supported such a stupid person. Then he remembered that it was because Beryl was stupid that he was supporting him. The dumber they are, the easier they are to control.
"Did you say anything that would make her suggest such a thing? A slip of the tongue, maybe?"
"No! No, I promise! To make sure I don’t, I spend my entire day just training, eating, and sleeping. I don’t even go out anymore to have fun. I’m being responsible."
"She was testing you." The Pope sighed.
"What?" Beryl truly didn’t understand what the Pope meant. Why would his sister test him? She was his competitor, his enemy, his rival. She should be keeping her distance from him, considering the war they both knew was coming. At least that’s what he thought.
"After all these years, you still don’t know how your sister operates. She was testing you, seeing if you actually planned on attacking during your father’s celebration. She wanted to force a reaction out of you. So, did you react to her words?" Now the Pope was getting irritated.
"N-No, no, I didn’t say anything. I told her to just leave me alone."
Now the Pope’s anger was apparent. His energy flooded the room and clamped Beryl to his seat under its sheer pressure.
"That’s not what I asked. Did you or did you not react to her words?! Answer me, now!"
"I-I-I froze. But I didn’t say anything, honest!" He had never seen the pope so angry before, and it truly scared him. He hoped he didn’t mess anything up because he wanted to be the King. No, he had to be the King. His mother wouldn’t accept anything less.
The pope vanquished his energy and rubbed his temples to calm his mind. "We’ll postpone our attack."
"What?! Just because she assumes we will attack at the party doesn’t mean she’s confident that we will. We can still use the element of surprise!" Beryl argued
"And what? Risk getting taken out before we can even begin? Even if she doesn’t have concrete evidence, she will still plan as if we will attack. She’ll probably tell your other siblings as well, making them prepare for an attack. If that happens, then we’ll be backed into a corner!"
"Urgh! So what now?!"
"We wait. We’ll plan another date, one where we can strike everywhere but deal a heavy blow to your sister’s faction, as she poses the biggest threat thanks to her information network. It’s unfortunate, but we’ll have to compromise."
The Pope quickly grabbed some blank pieces of paper and started writing on them. He was concocting a new plan.
"But what if that’s the whole point? What if she’s just using us? Maybe she wants us to stop our attack so she can attack during the party. She’s the type to do something like that!" Beryl made a good point for once.
"You make a good point, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. If she attacks, then we’ll have to make sure her plan fails. It will be unfortunate for us since she would have gotten the upper hand, but we would be able to work through it. However, if she doesn’t, then that’s good for us, and we can make a new plan of attack."
"But the party, though."
"Enough with the party! Get it through your thick skull that we won’t be attacking on that day anymore! Now get out of my sight! I have work to attend to."
Beryl left the office in a fit of rage. "How dare that old man speak to me that way! I’ll show him! Once I’m king, your use will be gone and I’ll replace you with a Pope under MY control!"