"Holy Son, our brothers and sisters at Bravie Fortress beg to serve at your side."
"Holy Son, the Choir is preparing a hymn of praise for you."
"Holy Son, the believers in Wilhelm still don't know you've been born. Should we inform them?"
"Holy Son..."
"Enough!"
Faced with the anxious bishops, Annan softened his tone. "I'm the Holy Son, not the Pontiff. Surely it's not my place to interfere in Church affairs?"
Everyone surrounding him was either a bishop or a high-ranking cleric, the sort of important person nobles treated with respect. Yet here they all were, waiting for Annan to make their decisions.
One portly bishop said, "But everyone says you're in charge of Church affairs."
"Which blind bastard started that rumor about me?"
"...Archbishop Tomark."
"W-well, if the archbishop said it, he must have had his reasons..." Annan stumbled over his words. "But I think having you come to me one by one with every matter is a little inefficient..."
"I understand. We'll sort everything out among ourselves first," the portly bishop said, catching on.
"That would be best."
"Then we'll bring it to you when you have time."
"Even better."
"You've only just returned to the Church, Holy Son, and you're not yet familiar with its affairs. We could also have the Saintess assist you."
"Exactly!" Annan said approvingly, then paused. "Wait."
Annan finally saw what was going on.
These bishops hadn't come to ask him to handle Church affairs. They'd come to declare where their loyalties lay.
As soon as he saw them out, Annan ran to Olmedo's office, clung to her thigh, and pleaded, "Olmedo, you have to help me!"
"Let go of me first..."
Olmedo's cheeks reddened. She was worried someone might see them like this. She didn't mind for her own sake, but