Iver came to the Central Observatory this time and received some unexpected information.
He hadn't managed to find out where that troll's grandfather, "Old Rabbihe," was... but he had figured out the origin of the corpse that had fallen out of the wardrobe.
...Probably.
Although Iver felt that only half of this could be trusted, judging from Pure White's unstable mental state, this development did seem to make sense. At least in her understanding, the Candidate Saintess named Gloria Blue Rose really might have been capable of killing Bishop Mercedes.
"...Your Highness, are you all right?"
Seeing Pure White's troubled expression, Iver asked softly.
Pure White merely covered her forehead and shook her head slightly. "It's nothing serious, just a bit of a headache. It hasn't gotten worse."
No emotion could be seen in her bandage-wrapped eyes.
"May I ask, who is that Gloria..."
Sherlock began, "What kind of person is she? Was she also your friend?"
He wasn't the kind of person who lacked social tact—in fact, quite the opposite. Sherlock had an extremely accurate grasp of people's psychology.
The main point was that someone had to ask this sort of question. Iver wasn't well suited to doing something so tactless, so Sherlock had no choice but to handle it.
"...No. Gloria was one of Mercedes's childhood friends. She didn't know Yanis... She was a friend who was closer to Mercedes's side. My relationship with her... was fairly ordinary.
"She might have been somewhat jealous of me. It may have been because I became a Saintess, or because I was close to Mercedes. But until now, I had always thought she was a good child..."
Pure White's expression was extremely complicated. "In that regard, Cardinal Loki was right. The chances of Saintess Candidates becoming crystallized are indeed very high.