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The Black Bishop Prays – Part 05

When Inspector Blois entered Victorique’s sanctuary, a whimsical candy house nestled within the grounds of St. Marguerite Academy, he discovered it strangely deserted. Traces of someone having breakfast remained on the meticulously crafted table. Piles of books, mountains of sweets, and frilly dresses were scattered about, but the master of the house, young Victorique de Blois, was nowhere to be seen.

As he rummaged through the dresser and peeked underneath the couch, Cecile appeared. He asked her where his sister was, and she reluctantly told him that around this time she should be at the library tower. Wearing a scowl, Inspector Blois left the candy house.

The library tower stood cold and austere, its gray exterior partially cloaked in snow.

As Inspector Blois pushed open the heavy, riveted door, a chill more biting than the outside air enveloped him.

The towering space featured a high ceiling, where majestic fresco murals glittered. The walls were filled with a vast collection of esoteric books from all around the world. Wooden steps, like some kind of secret staircase leading to the night sky known only to kids, connected the walls.

It was meant to be a hall of knowledge, yet for Inspector Blois, it felt like a shadowy abyss, malevolent and mysterious, harboring numerous dark secrets of this world, secrets that should never be unveiled before innocent souls.

What was knowledge exactly?

Adults often told children to attend school and study hard, but was knowledge truly meant to mold them into responsible adults, virtuous citizens, and sensible beings? Perhaps that held true to some extent.

But extraordinary knowledge might have the power to transform individuals into mischievous imps who silently and scornfully peered down into unfathomable depths.

For a while, Inspector Blois remained oblivious to his sister’s presence. He was completely consumed by the dark and solemn atmosphere of the library, a gray demon masquerading as a stone tower, its thick skin disguised as books, narrow wooden staircase stretching out like blood vessels.

“Oh, if it isn’t my brother.”

“V-Victorique!” Inspector Blois yelped.

“Why are you so startled? Did you not come here because you had business with me?”

“I, uh…” Inspector Blois stole a glance at his sister’s visage.

A small face. Stony and forlorn beauty, akin to a meticulously crafted doll. Raspy voice. Red silk ribbons adorned her jet-black dress made of French lace. Her mini hat and flat shoes were a matching black. Golden hair cascaded down her back, sweeping the floor like the tail of an ancient creature, swaying discontentedly.

His sister appeared to be gazing upwards. Following her eyes, he saw a resplendent fresco high above, casting its gaze upon them. For a moment, he thought it captured her attention, but he shook his head, believing that his sister, of all people, wouldn’t be enthralled by something beautiful.

“What do you want?” Victorique asked.

“There’s been a case.”

“That is none of my concern.”

“T-Tell me what you want. I’ll do anything.”

“Oh? Anything?” Victorique replied nonchalantly, her face devoid of emotion.

And then, seemingly on a whim, she presented a strange condition.

Inspector Blois acquiesced. The pact with the devil had been sealed.

Neither laughter nor anger escaped Victorique’s lips. Standing there with an icy air, she effortlessly unraveled the case by merely listening to Inspector Blois’s explanation. Afterwards, she wordlessly made her way to the elevator hall, as if nothing had transpired. The hydraulic elevator opened its iron-grated doors, swallowing the doll-like, young girl.

Shaking, it ascended into the skies, to the conservatory at the top.

A paradise untouched by humans, it was a secret room rumored to have been constructed by the king for clandestine meetings with his young mistress. The iron cage carrying Victorique was swiftly swallowed by the shadows, as though plunging straight into the abyss of knowledge.

Inspector Blois shuddered. It was so unbearably cold that his breath came out in white clouds.

---

Kazuya Kujou was gazing up at Victorique curiously, his chin resting on the window frame.

After a moment of silence, he spoke, “I see. So you were involved in Inspector Blois’s first case as well. And thanks to that devil’s bargain, Ian and Evan ended up linking hands.”

“Indeed,” Victorique replied.

“But I’m still not sure how the case was resolved. In the end, they managed to arrest the culprit. How?”

“You don’t understand? You’re such a handful.”

“I don’t. Because you won’t tell me.” Kazuya inclined his head.

Victorique ignored him and flipped through her book for a while.

“Elementary, my dear,” she finally said with a sigh.

“Go on.”

“The young boy was confined in a church by the culprit, and churches often feature religious paintings. You’ve come across them countless times since you arrived in this country, haven’t you? There’s a painting where a winged woman and an ordinary woman face each other, engaged in fervent conversation.”

“Ah!” Kazuya exclaimed, nodding.

“The ‘Annunciation.’ An angel sitting before Mary, delivering the news of her conceiving the child of God. You could say it’s one of the most famous motifs in the world. I deduced that the same painting was displayed in the church.” Victorique’s voice was soft.

Surrounded by multiple rows of flowerbeds, the candy house provided a sanctuary, muffling the noise from the outside world. Victorique’s voice alone reverberated in this haven.

“The delirious boy had been staring at the painting for an extended period. He wasn’t out in the wilderness, but on the cold floor of the church. Only the woman and the angel were in the warm meadow. And he said that the hair of the person who brought him food fluttered in the wind. I believed it was because the boy was lying on the floor. When a person looks down, their hair would naturally hang over their face, hiding it. He wasn’t outside where the wind was blowing; it was simply the force of gravity pulling the hair down. That was my deduction.”

“I get it now.”

“The culprit was the female tutor. After her arrest, she confessed in great detail. She made up the part about receiving a letter from a man. She had kidnapped the boy herself. Apparently, she felt awful for doing something terrible to the boy. She was given a fairly long sentence and sent to prison.”

Victorique flipped through her book.

Yawning softly, she continued, “The father appeared as a witness in court and expressed his anger, wishing for a lengthy sentence, but the boy wanted to pardon the tutor. The man wanted to raise his son as a fine businessman, but the son, as it turned out, was kind-hearted, god-fearing, and not the competitive type. Children who possess qualities that differ from their parents’ desires are, well, not uncommon in this world.”

“Y-Yeah…” Kazuya hung his head.

Something seemed to be on his mind. His jet-black eyes darkened, his chin tightened against the window frame, and he stood rigidly upright.

Staring at him eerily, Victorique said, “It appears the boy continues to frequent the church, praying for the tutor. Furthermore, a few days ago, he returned to the village with his father and has been visiting the very church where the incident took place every day. No matter how much his father scolds him, he never stops praying for her. He’s like a virtuous little bishop. Bishops do not pray for their own happiness or personal gain. Prayers may possess limited power to directly influence the world, but perhaps…”

Victorique buried her face casually into her book and dropped her voice to a soft whisper.

“Perhaps that is why, somewhere in this inadequate world, there will always be a need for those who pray. These small, feeble bishops secretly and valiantly safeguard the world from unseen desolation.”

Silence enveloped the room. Kazuya quietly observed Victorique’s face.

Victorique, her eyes closed, lay stretched out on the easy chair like a slumbering doll. Listening closely, he could hear her soft breathing. The morning’s squabbles with her older brother had drained her of energy.

Kazuya let out a sigh. His face turned grim at the thought of Inspector Blois. He then gazed upon Victorique’s adorable face and smiled.

He gently closed the window, mindful not to disturb the sleeping princess, and left the candy house with stealthy footsteps.

The snow-clad twigs of the flowerbeds trembled in the winter breeze.

The dazzling sunlight reflected off the snow, illuminating the flowerbed maze in a stunning silver brilliance.

---

When Kazuya returned to the boys’ dormitory, he discovered Ms. Cecile and Sophie sitting at the large table in the kitchen, with a bottle of wine open in broad daylight. Their rosy cheeks hinted at a slight intoxication.

“Found some cheese!”

“Whose is it?”

“I’m not sure. Let’s dig in anyway. We need more snacks.”

“You’re absolutely right, Cecile. Brilliant idea!”

Their lively chatter filled the room.

Sensing that getting involved would only lead to trouble, Kazuya quietly retreated, slipping away into the hallway.

Even from outside the kitchen, their voices carried to his ears.

“By the way, about that incident…”

“The kidnapping case, you mean?”

“Yeah. Father and son are back in the village this year too. I was talking about it with my friend, like, why return to a traumatic place? Apparently, the city will become more dangerous in the future. I wonder what they meant by that.”

“I have no idea.”

“Did you know? The son visits the very church where the incident occurred and offers prayers for the culprit. He’s extremely soft-hearted for a child. Makes you worried about his future.”

“Sounds like a good kid. I adore children like him.”

“Spoken like a true teacher.”

“Oh, it’s no big deal. That reminds me, I saw Ian and Evan yesterday, strolling around with this kid. He was dressed all fancy, nothing like what we usually see in our village. I actually thought they might be kidnapping him.”

“Whenever the boy visits, they hang out with him, take him to the church and back. They’re good people. Maybe I should root for him. Ian, Evan, whoever it is.”

“Count me in. Ian, Evan, whoever it is.”

“Cheers!”

“Cheers!”

Glasses clinked.

Kazuya stood in the hallway for a moment, deep in thought, then resumed walking.

Leaving the kitchen where the teacher and the dorm mother secretly indulged in drinking, he stepped out of the boys’ dormitory. The sunlight grew stronger, and the melting snow sparkled as it dripped down.

The cheerful voices of students drifted from the courtyard. Everything seemed to glisten on this winter day.

This marked the second event of the day.