"It seems our Mr. Kallen really didn't know about this."
"Yes, my position is still too low. I have no access to matters involving the Church's upper ranks."
Through the reflection in the elevator doors before her, Ophelia glanced with mild curiosity at Kallen, who stood behind her.
She found this man interesting. Setting everything else aside, the way he openly acknowledged his low status without a trace of emotion made her feel inexplicably comfortable.
It was neither resignation nor self-mockery. He seemed perfectly natural, as though he were free of the shackles of status.
The Chief Bishop's grandson, who had invited her to dance at the banquet earlier, had talked about all his grandfather's arrangements while they danced. It was a completely different style.
She found the latter normal, but somewhat greasy, much like her impression of Vien cuisine;
The former, Kallen, always gave her a refreshing impression. Talking with him felt comfortable.
Ophelia had already moved beyond the conventional "class circle." First, she had never experienced the so-called pressure of survival. Second, because of Dark Moon Island's special position, she understood that she would marry for an alliance, and her family and Dark Moon Island also needed marriage alliances with outsiders, but that need was neither so serious nor so urgent.
When people faced no pressing, visible pressure, their emotional sensibilities tended to become more acute.
So rather than saying Kallen felt refreshing to her, it would be more accurate to say she had found something in him that resembled herself.
But Ophelia would never think along those lines, because she did not believe a member of the Whip of Order could possess a state of mind befitting her own status.
Still less could she know that the man who had blown up the Order Temple was the