Chapter 23 - Encounter

                                        

                                              



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Location: Reiss Feifdom, Wall Rose
Year: 845
Time: Late Afternoon








The orange hour.
That odd shade between day and night, where everything looks like it's been painted over with rust.
"...?"
Rust? Ike doesn't like that game, I'm pretty sure.
The horse clopped lazily over a patch of dirt, one wheel hitting a shallow stone with a thunk. 
I leaned back slightly, rolling my shoulders, and let out a yawn. It was the kind that crept up slowly and left your jaw sore.
It was annoying.
I glanced at Grisha.
He hadn't moved much since we left Stohess. Back still a bit too straight, fingers lightly tapping his leg every now and then. His shoulders weren't high, but they weren't relaxed either. Like he was constantly waiting for something to happen.
The man looked like he'd just swallowed an ice cube whole.
I didn't ask about it.
He didn't offer anything.
Some people like their silences heavy, I prefer mine optional.
Still, one thing itched at me. 
Chapel.
Why a chapel?
It had been on my mind since he mentioned it. 
I wasn't exactly well-versed in the Church of the Walls—aside from that weird gala Frieda dragged me to—but in day-to-day life, I rarely saw signs of it. No clergy roaming the streets. No prayers at street corners. Not even a badge or a pendant.
People just... lived. Bought bread, traded goods, went to bed. It didn't feel feudal. 
It felt empty.
"..."
A hollow religion, maybe.
I broke the quiet.
"So," I said casually, "your patient. A priest or something?"
There was a flicker.
But I saw it—his pupils shrank slightly, like something flared in the back of his head for just a second.
"No," he said. "Actually... they're a lord."
I nodded, but my eyes stayed on the path.
...Wait, what? 
"That's a high-profile patient. Maybe that's why you've looked tense this whole ride?"
A soft laugh. 
"No, no... it's not that." He waved a hand loosely, but his fingers were curled. "I've just been feeling a bit off lately. Queasy stomach. Maybe it's something going around—" he gave a short chuckle "—might need to check myself after this."
I hummed.
It was a bad lie. A thin one at best.
Grisha Yeager didn't strike me as someone who got rattled by bad food.
I kept the reins steady and let my thoughts drift for a moment.
A lord.
A chapel.