The Sleeping Maiden is wrapped in white.

I begin to awaken slowly from a drowse.

It feels as though I have slept for a long, deep time.

Before my blurred vision lies a bright garden...

Wait... Why was I sleeping in a garden...

With thoughts still sluggish, I glance around, and there, slightly altered from memory, is a garden of strange flowers...

Yes...

This is the Sacred Domain...

Recalling this, I look again, and there, standing in the open center, is a figure wrapped in light.

"Good morning, Spica. It is time you awakened."

A person with a smile as crisp as morning dew stood there.

"First Ancestor..."

She smiled brightly, pointing to a single, radiant path of light.

"There are those who have been waiting. Thank you for coming today, at this hour. Your presence has saved many.

Thank you, Spica."

I wonder if I was of any use… Yet it feels crude to ask such a thing.

The restlessness, so like resignation, that I felt when we first met—now it has vanished.

"I am the one who has been grateful for your care these past days. I hope the First Lady remains well…"

It feels odd to say "well," but my ordinary mind could only weave commonplace farewells.

"Uh, Spica, stay well and happy in your remaining time! We’ll meet again where the light of the soul guides us. My gratitude and blessings to you… farewell, my dear friend."

I sensed, without words, that there was no time left for more. So I offered my final greeting to the First Lady, using the name she had taught me. I could not speak her true name—Parisnina—yet I did not speak it, for it was not her true name. I bid farewell with that name, which would never be spoken again.

Yes, thank you. I look forward to the day I may once more meet the spirit of Lady Harisu Niina. Farewell.

We part with smiles on our lips…

Our destination lies beyond the path of light…

A flower, radiant and bright above all others, comes forth from the glow ahead.

It glows with joy, with quiet pride…

A will strong with hope for the future, unburdened by sorrow.

Ah… this child is the current Lady.

She does not notice me…

In the instant she passes by, I embrace her.

For a moment her steps halt. Surprise is clear.

I smile softly and speak to her.

“Please, guard the boundary with the First Lady, current Lady. May the light of a bright future fall upon you.”

With that, I turn once more and walk toward the light.

The flower of the divine realm’s seat had shifted in an instant—from white lilies to large peonies.

Such a dependable next generation has grown.

Our thoughts and resolve are woven firmly together.

If that is known, there is nothing left unfulfilled…

Forward into a light even more intense, my awareness stepped forth.

For a moment, my consciousness faltered…

To me, it was but a single breath before awareness returned.

Beyond the light lay darkness.

Yes… my eyes have been passed to Alex Elder…

Strange, yet now I naturally understand that I am in a flesh-and-blood body.

In the divine realm, such things were seen, but still, the utter blackness feels unfamiliar—there is a faint tremor of fear.

With cautious movements, I twist my body and lift my upper half.

A slight dizziness, as if I had slept a little too long.

Holy Maiden, your long service is deeply appreciated. Thanks to your grace, countless citizens have been saved. With words of honor from the Emperor, you are now granted the title of Holy Maiden. From me as well, I offer my gratitude and deepest respect. Welcome home, Spica.

Thank you… so… much…?

My reply remains suspended, a question mark.

Such… surely not…

She grips the Sacred Stone at her chest.

My chest feels constricted, as though bound by invisible hands, yet at the same time, it yearns to dash off somewhere—somewhere unseen.

For that voice is no different from the one I have longed for…

No, it feels calmer, deeper, than the voice of memory.

"Impossible... Arthur... Your Highness?"

He said, “Yes, indeed, my beloved.”

The sensation of a single strand of hair lifted into hand, and a kiss descending upon it, is felt.

My sleeping princess has carried out her duties with great seriousness. Thanks to her, I have grown utterly aged.

You remain, as ever, a beautiful and chaste maiden.

Arthur-sama speaks to me in a voice that carries a faint trace of sadness. The slight playfulness in his words recalls the man he once was.

I suppressed the trembling joy in my chest, the racing pulse of what might be dream or illusion, and asked Arthur-sama.

"Arthur-sama, may I hold your hand?"

He says, “Of course,” and takes my hand.

The hand is warm, bearing the calluses unique to one who has held a sword—yet tautness is absent, the lines carved deep, softer than the memory of his hand… cruelly, one feels the passage of time here…

Arthur-sama, may I touch your face...?

If I ask him so boldly, he will take my hand and bring it to his face.

And what was touched was, once again, the familiar presence of someone marked by time, clearer than in memory…

How regrettable...

She knows how he tenses at her every word.

I give a wry smile, thinking she must have taken my words to mean something different.

It is most lamentable that I cannot behold Arthur-sama, who must surely have grown ever more splendid with the passing of years.

As the words formed, she could feel a slight release of his strength.

Spica… no, Spica-sama, there is no need to grieve. You will see the world again.

I flinch at the sound of another voice, my shoulders twitching.

She had believed there was no one here but him...

Yet in the voice that reached me, I felt a pang of nostalgia.

"Could that voice be... Cain-sama?"

I hesitated, fearful, and addressed him with the honorific as I once did with Elder Brother…

“Do you no longer wish to call me Elder Brother, as you once did?”

Elder Brother spoke with a voice grown aged and tinged with loneliness.

“May I… still call you Elder Brother?”

I asked, uncertain, and he replied with a faintly nasal tone.

“Of course, if you wish it. We are family, after all. And… I must apologize. I caused Spica great pain and sorrow—this was not solely my fault, but the fault of us all.

Though it has come so late, I wish to speak my remorse. We ignored her, wounded her, failed even to notice the Festival of the Divine, and did not send her away as family should. Worse still, I drove her out… I am truly sorry…”

You say we are family again…

A tightness grips deep within my nose and throat.

Happy… I am glad to hear that I am still considered part of Emmental.

“Yes, Elder Brother… Cain Elder Brother!

What is done is done. All has been guided by the Creator God. I have fulfilled my duty, even as I served the goddess in my dream.

Most of all, I am happy now, to have found you again, Elder Brother.”

I do not know if I weep, eyes without sight. I press my hand to my mouth, desperate not to let a sob escape, and am gently wrapped in a warmth I recognize.

Is it Elder Brother’s embrace?

No… it is softer. A gentler warmth, a familiar scent…

“I am here too, Pearl.”

I am startled once more.

“Shasha…?”

“Yes, that’s right. Your Shasha.

Welcome home, Pearl. You’ve come back safely. You’ve done well, Pearl.”

I clung to the gentle warmth wrapping around me, my face pressed against it, shamelessly.

I had shed the mask of a lady, weeping and clinging like a child, guided only by emotion.

We’ve met again… I had believed no one would wait for me… yet here we are, together once more…

All of them had waited, patiently, until I calmed.

Then, Elder Brother offered a proposal.

“First, let us restore your sight. I have continued my research into magical artifacts designed to assist the body—though not eyes, I have crafted devices that may serve as replacements.

Would you allow it?”

As I thought of how extraordinary Elder Brother must be to create such a device, I nodded slightly in agreement. After a brief explanation, he said, “Then, we shall begin,” and placed his large hands gently over my eyes, still seated on the bed.

“3.2.1…” After the countdown, a cool sensation washed over my eyes. The artificial eye and the magical artifact must have been exchanged. For a time afterward, Elder Brother’s hands remained pressed gently against my face.

During that time, I asked him about my family.

He answered, sometimes with a troubled expression, but always with care.

Forty-eight years had passed since then.

It was summer now…

Grandfather, Grandmother, Father, and Mother had all already crossed the bridge to the Kingdom of the Gods.

And Alex Elder had passed over the bridge three years ago…

It was at his deathbed that he entrusted me with the magical eye I had provided.

He had been advancing his research when he received that eye, and it was from that very eye that the magical artifact now in my possession had been completed.

The structure of the eye was intricate, and it had taken great difficulty to put it to practical use—yet, with the aid of the magical eye, a solution had finally been found, spoken of with fervor.

A smile escapes me at how consistently devoted Elder Brother remains to his research.

Though the magical eye could not endure repeated transplants, this artifact shall now aid those who have known only darkness.

Fret Elder said Elder Brother had set out on a journey to correct his past mistakes.

His voice was rigid. I sensed there was something he wished not to tell me.

I resolve not to press further until Elder Brother speaks of it himself.

Cain Elder, it turns out, never inherited the family estate. He has instead founded a new house and now holds the title of Lord Clarke.

Before I arrived here, she tells me, I was a boy in her womb, and afterward she was blessed with three more children; now, she is a grandfather to nine grandchildren.

A faint, wry smile reaches her voice—she says she was never meant to be a lord of a great domain.

I think otherwise, but if she says that the years of study after leaving Emmental suited her better, and considering her earlier remarks, I find myself wondering if that might indeed be true.

After my father, it was my uncle who took over; now, the current head of the Emmental family is my Elder Brother’s eldest daughter’s son.

There must be some drama behind why it came to this, a story I do not know.

Then, she speaks of Stella, saying she too passed away from illness the year after I arrived, and went to the Kingdom of the Divine…

I had the faint sensation, in a dream, of embracing a woman with a lonely, sorrowful back—so like my elder sister—but perhaps it was merely a dream…

“Arthur has been parted from his betrothed by death, and since then has remained unmarried, dwelling here to this day. Is that not noble?”

My Elder Brother continued.

Arthur said, “My story can wait,” with a touch of embarrassment, interrupting my Elder Brother’s words.

I wished to hear precisely that… yet I thought, but my Elder Brother was replaced by Shasha, who spoke on my behalf about the manner of a maiden’s waiting since my slumber began.

As the First Lady once spoke in the sacred domain, I had heard that now, after three years of sleep, a maiden awakens and returns to the ways of humankind. I felt relief, as though I had been assured—because someone had waited for me like this, I found myself thinking, Why must my time come now…?

I reprimanded myself, recalling that even the First Lady had once been angered by such thoughts.

I felt my heart quicken at the thought of noble ladies vying to become the Virgin of the Barrier, their number unceasing.

At last, I understood the meaning behind the First Lady’s gratitude.

And I was told that the next Emmental High Priestess after me would be, remarkably, the granddaughter of Shasha.

She explained that Shasha had been present here only because she was the High Priestess’s attendant.

Shasha, she said with a smile, had rejected countless families who had volunteered as attendants, and claimed her place by triumph.

She also shared, with a voice thick with blood and resolve, that the High Priestess after me had fought fiercely for her position, scattering countless worthy rivals to claim her seat.

“After all, the successor to the High Saintess—families with daughters of marriageable age all reached for her hand. I wonder if the offerings to the church this year surpass anything seen in history.”

Shasha spoke with a smile.

I found her manner of speaking oddly amusing, and before I knew it, I was smiling.

Yet, as I recall, I had just heard the term “High Saintess” mentioned—what could it possibly mean… I thought, surely not referring to me, and asked as much, only to receive a reply that left me breathless.

I have done nothing. I explained that all was the achievement of the First Lady, but everyone immediately insisted otherwise.

In this way, as I was being questioned about my role within the family and the proper conduct of a maiden, my eyelids were gently released by Elder Brother.

The warmth at my eyes vanished, and only then did I notice a faint redness I had not felt before.

I realized it must be light, and could not bear it any longer—I opened my eyes wide, heedless of Elder Brother’s presence.

The world swam before me, blurred and indistinct, yet unmistakably there.

After several blinks, my vision slowly sharpened, and three figures began to take shape.

The three figures clearly outlined before me were older than I had imagined—three people aged beyond memory…

A sensation of being left behind in time seized me.

No, I am truly left behind in time…

Each of them bore traces of memory yet had become entirely different from who they once were.

First came Elder Brother…

His long hair, drained of color, was drawn back and smoothed neatly behind him, a well-groomed beard adorning his lower face.

A monocle rested over his right eye, giving him the air of an intelligent mage.

His eyes, warm as Mother’s, remained unchanged; I recognized him instantly as Cain Elder.

Next, I looked to the silhouette of the woman—

I blinked in shock.

Shasha wore not a dress, but a military uniform…

Gentleness had vanished from her form; where she stood was a brave female knight.

Her long, ash-blond hair was tied back in a single braid, a reminder of the distant frontier where she one day came to claim me.

Shasha turns toward her with an innocent smile, as if her prank had succeeded. Even though she appears the same age as their late grandmother, the image of her from that divine banquet lingers over her, overlapping.

You’re surprised, aren’t you? She is the first woman to lead our empire’s knightly order.

He emerged from within her, Arthur-sama, clad in a pure white robe adorned with golden and silver embroidery denoting the rank of cardinal.

I stood with my mouth agape, unable to close it in shock.

To wear this monastic robe means that Arthur-sama has renounced his imperial lineage and taken vows, appearing here in this place...

Moreover, the role of a cardinal is not determined by the house into which one is born.

A sacred rank bestowed through long years of discipline and devotion.

Thus, it is immediately clear that he has walked the path of the clergy for many years.

My elder brother said he still has no companion in life...

This... to have renounced even his royal lineage, even his identity as a noble, to enter the Church...

And now, seven cardinals are assigned to the seven churches that serve as pillars of the faith, each safeguarding their respective grounds and conducting the rites.

That he is present here as a cardinal means he is, in truth, the cardinal of this land.

It was he who protected me.

Can I believe he has been waiting for me all this time...

It is painful to witness how his hair has turned white, how the lines upon his face have deepened, how I could not see him change...

I am ashamed of myself, who once said, "Do not wait for me..."

His eyes, unchanging as the biscuit-colored stone, gaze upon me—only me—and never release their hold.

"Arthur-sama, to become such a splendid gentleman is unfair... I never imagined I would come to regret so deeply that we could not grow old together at your side."

His hand reaches toward me, still seated upon the bed, and he strokes my cheek once more.

A glimmer flickers at the corner of his eyes.

"Spica... no, Your Holiness, High Saint Spica Luciana...

Please allow this wretched old man to spend the remainder of his days loving you, supporting you, and sharing time beside you?

If it is possible, will you accept this ring?

I long to be with you, my beloved, as soon as your duties are fulfilled. Would you not grant me the honor of becoming your companion?"

With that, he offers me a ring made of ivory-like material, inlaid with pearls and biscuit-colored enamel.

'Will you not accept this Sacred Stone?'

I think of you every day, and I wish to be with you as soon as I graduate from the academy. Will you not become my companion?

The words of his proposal from that summer return to me…

There was only one answer I could give.

“Yes… yes… I would be honored… Arthur-sama, I humbly accept.”

He gently wipes the tears from my eyes, then enfolds me in a strong embrace.

So tender, so firm, so fleeting—more so than the embrace we once shared within the Imperial Palace.

He breaks down in tears.

“Thank you… thank goodness… thank goodness… truly…”

I press my hand against his back, feeling the heat of his tears soaking through my shoulder, and soothe him with gentle strokes of my fingers through his hair.

Then, near his ear, I whisper.

“Arthur-sama… am I not dreaming? I am so happy I do not wish to wake from this dream.”

He answers, “I feel the same.”

“V… Un! Wohon.”

Dreaming still, I savored the embrace, light and fleeting as a moment between breaths.

Yes. This was not a space meant for two alone…

I felt warm glances from Elder Brother, who had cleared his throat, and from Fret, who watched with quiet amusement.

Overcome by sudden awkwardness, I shoved Arthur aside without thinking…

He, with the grace of years, flushed slightly, then quickly composed himself, and spoke to the two of us.

“Both of you, to be here now, at this moment, is the will of the goddess. Might you be witnesses to our beginning?

The priest is present. The Emperor’s consent, the bride’s parents’ approval, all are here.

And happily, we have the bride’s reply.

Now, before the goddess, with witnesses to confirm, we need only swear our vows. Then we shall be husband and wife.”

There is none more fitting as witness to our departure than you.

With these words, the Emperor I know draws forth from his coat a brittle parchment, aged and sealed with the imperial seal bearing his father’s name, and another parchment bearing my father’s familiar script and the seal of the head of the Emmental house.

It was a request Arthur had made as reward for quelling the traitor’s rebellion—something he had asked for in the hope of securing for Spica the right to marry the one she truly held in her heart.

And so Arthur had named Spica as his intended.

My heart swells once more, certain now that he has been waiting for my return all along.

They exchange a brief, startled glance, then smile wryly, and say, “With joy,” and “With reverence,” accepting the request.

On that day, deep within the church of the Emmental capital, Kiwa, a pair of young people pledged their vows to one another.

The priest became the groom, his white robes transforming into wedding attire.

The high priestess became the bride, her pristine shroud becoming a bridal gown.

Facing each other straightly, the two vowed eternal love beneath the watchful eyes of one kin, one heart's friend, a sleeping princess, and a single goddess.

They pledged to cherish and support one another through all times—healthy and ailing, sorrowful and joyful—forever and ever.

Finally, Arthur added:

"If you are called to the kingdom of God, I shall not live. My time shall end there, and I shall fly to the next life with you.

My dearest, Spica. My lifelong companion, Spica.

So give me all the time that remains.

And in the next life, let us etch time upon our bodies together."

Am I truly this happy?

To see once more those faces and places I thought I would never lay eyes upon again, to meet once more those whom I had bid farewell, believing we would never meet again, to hear once more words I thought I would never hear…

And now, to walk together with the one I love in this lifetime, and to be granted a promise for the next…

I feel a sudden sharp pain deep in my nose.

The reward for fulfilling my duty as a maiden is so overwhelming, so radiant, that I answer without hesitation, my heart brimming with light.

“Yes. Arthur-sama. Do not leave my side for even a moment of the time that remains.

I promise you the dream of walking together in this life, and the promise of our reunion in the next.”

And once more, the two stand before the witnesses, exchanging vows in a kiss of solemn pledge.

Spica does not know—

That Arthur’s vow is a true oath, a prayer heard by the gods…

Nor does she know that her own vow is also a vow, and that her prayer will be answered… She does not yet know.

Afterward, all depart the sanctuary, walking toward the radiant light of the sun.

Once, Spica turns to look back.

The bed no longer shines as it once did, unseen by light.

Yet there, unmistakably, she feels the presence of the current Lady.

The goddess statue watching over them never ceases to smile.

The following year, Great Saint Spica Luciana and her consort, Pope Arthur Luciana, passed away, and a state funeral was held.

The people wept in silence, offering prayers and gratitude to the land of Emmental.

Having completed her sacred duties, the High Priestess spent her peaceful final years with her beloved companion.

All who cherished her and knew her personally had arrived, it was said.

Under the watchful eyes of the people of Emmental and Clarke, the High Priestess departed in quiet solemnity.

At the same moment, her companion, the Pope, was also called by the divine.

It is said that in the cemetery atop the hill overlooking the sea of Emmental, the High Priestess and the Pope lie side by side in the same coffin, their parents at their side, hands clasped, asleep in quiet unity.

Thank you very much for reading.

This will conclude the story.

The surname of the First Ancestor is fictional. It is a name that may belong to someone who naturalized through international marriage—rare, but not unheard of—though the kanji may differ; please forgive the discrepancy.

Also, the change in title from Cardinal to Pope in the final chapter is due to advancement.

It was intentional. This is not an error—please rest assured.