Alexia's explanation had swayed Jenkins sowhat. He considered her words and had to admit she had a point. He still had no idea what the great cataclysm at the end of the epoch truly was.
Perhaps it was a tangible monster; defeat it, and all would be well. But it could just as easily be an intangible plague, or even a phenonon, which he couldn't possibly solve alone. It was like the air and pollution problems brought on by the steam industry—an issue he had always wanted to address. Unless he beca king of the Fidektri Kingdom, even as the Saint Son, he would find it nearly impossible to resolve completely.
"I've gotten to you."
Seeing Jenkins remain silent, Alexia said with a smile:
"You're mulling over my words. And though you're reluctant, in your heart, you admit they make perfect sense."
Jenkins looked at her, about to speak, but Alexia continued before he could:
"You want to say you'll fully support Dolores in her bid for the crown, giving you access to sufficient power through her. But have you considered this? Can a catastrophe that affects the entire world be fought with the strength of a single nation? Based on what you've said before, you should be uniting all the forces you can, gathering every friend you can, to face the unknown future together. I believe there's a reason you beca a Savior. It's rare to find soone like you, who is qualified to contend for the highest echelons of power in both the religious and secular worlds."
The petite woman had read Jenkins's thoughts completely. Seeing his pensive expression, she added:
"Truthfully, you don't need to decide right now. After all, whether you can actually obtain that crown is still completely uncertain. In my opinion, instead of worrying about your crown, you should be thinking about Dolores's. If you hadn't co today, I would have sought you out. Dolores's father has summoned all his children to the palace on Monday to discuss matters of state. Each is allowed to bring one aide, and I think you're needed for the role."
"Are you sure you want to go? I don't really understand Dolores's political affairs."
Jenkins asked, turning to Dolores to gauge her opinion.
"It has to be you," the princess declared. "I can speak on everything I've accomplished. As for what I haven't been able to do... that's where you co in."
Seeing Jenkins's lingering confusion, Alexia prompted:
"In other words, this is where your usual 'whimsical ideas' can be put to good use. You might not even realize how much important knowledge you actually possess."
And so, the matter of the Fidektri throne was not ntioned again that evening.
A flash of Chocolate, scampering.
After leaving Black Town, Jenkins had noticed sothing strange about Chocolate. It wasn't that the adorable cat had beco any less adorable, but rather that she seed much more eager to be near him.
Chocolate had always been a model house pet, but for so reason, ever since his return from Black Town, Jenkins felt their bond had deepened.
"This is odd," Jenkins mused. "I have a fiancée to whom I've pledged my life, so why am I having such delusions?"
He thought this as he woke up in his room at the church, tilting his head to study the cat sleeping peacefully by his pillow, trying to decipher its thoughts from its serene expression.
Today was Friday. At the Pontiff's invitation, Jenkins was to attend a ribbon-cutting ceremony for the dedication of a new cetery. While a ribbon-cutting for such a facility might sound peculiar, it was a significant event. The people of this world placed great importance on their final arrangents.
As he rode out of the city in a carriage with Pontiff IV, a troubled Jenkins found his thoughts circling around one particular matter. The spacious carriage had been filled only with the soft rustle of turning pages, but a single question from Jenkins shattered the montary peace:
"Did the Church... already know? That my family is connected to the Middletons?"
Jenkins was certain he hadn't imagined it. As he posed the question, the old Pontiff's hand, holding the book, trembled slightly—a rare sight for the robust old man.
"You know?"
Pontiff IV fell silent for two seconds before setting down his book and asking.
"For so reason, it all clicked yesterday. I finally understood why I was in Bel Diran at this particular ti. I thought you would deny it."
"Jenkins, you are the Sage's Saint Son. I could lie to anyone, but not to you. That would be disrespectful to the Sage. Yes, we discovered the connection between the Williams and Middleton families last year, not long after you joined, during a routine background check. You were not the Saint Son then, but it was still a startling discovery, especially since the issue of the royal succession was already beginning to surface."
The old man's voice was a bit hoarse, but his tone was calm.
"So, what is the Church's position on the matter?"
The carriage jolted, eliciting a disgruntled ow from the cat but otherwise only causing the lamp inside to sway. Jenkins's face was cast in shifting light and shadow.
"The cardinals discussed it. We also wrote to your father, Robert Williams, as he is the head of your household. Unbeknownst to you, he traveled to Bel Diran to have a private discussion with . We arrived at a conclusion that pleased everyone involved."
The old man closed his book, his ancient eyes eting Jenkins's, which flickered in the unsteady light. Both n possessed an unyielding will, each with their own convictions and resolve:
"We unanimously agreed that if the royal family fails to produce a suitable heir, having a Williatte with a legitimate claim to the bloodline step forward would be a choice beneficial to the kingdom, the Church, and your family."
"And who did you choose?"
Jenkins asked.
"Saint Williatte," Pontiff IV replied. "Could there possibly be a second candidate more suitable than you?"
Seeing Jenkins's silence, he inquired further:
"Or is it that you are unwilling to accept the crown?"
Had it been this ti yesterday, Jenkins would have admitted without hesitation that he had no such ambition. But after Alexia's persuasive argunts in Ruen, he was no longer sure what the right choice was.
"Just as I thought. When your father spoke with , he said you would likely oppose this decision. He believes you are not a man who craves power. Even though your personality has changed a great deal in the past six months, he said that, deep down, you've never been willing to take on responsibilities that extend beyond your own daily life."
"He's right."
Jenkins nodded in agreent. The original Jenkins and he were very different in character, but on this one point, they were remarkably similar.
"But we need not be hasty. Nothing is set in stone yet; the Queen's final decision is what truly matters. Still, I believe you should anticipate one thing, Saint Williatte. If the Queen were to offer you the crown, would you refuse her?"
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