After entrusting that jar of a "time bomb" to Turtle, the one least likely to cause trouble, Horace finally felt a great weight lift from his heart.
He turned his attention to another pressing matter-traveling to Leyndell.
During the days he had spent immersed in studying divine blood, letters from Leyndell had come fluttering in like snowflakes, piling up in a thick stack in a corner of his study.
Horace did not need to open them to know that his big brother was probably already stamping his feet with impatience.
The letters contained nothing but various urgings: "Asei! When are you coming?" "Froesanks can't hold on much longer!" "Hurry! The wine's ready!" And so on.
Horace understood his big brother's impatience, but he really had not been able to get away-he could hardly stroll into Leyndell carrying that jar of "Marika's first blood," could he?
If Marika could not even sense that, she might as well step down as the Eternal Queen and become a real "village girl."
With the divine blood temporarily stored at the Church of Vows, he could count that worry settled.
The preparations before departure were not complicated. With Horace's current status and power, there were established arrangements for his travels. What mattered most, instead, was reassuring Uriel, who was already on the verge of drowning in a sea of paperwork.
"Uriel, while I'm in Leyndell, I'll be leaving all the administrative affairs of Lakeside Town and the fief to you. Sorry for the trouble." Horace patted the old warrior, who now looked as haggard as an old scholar.
"For urgent matters, consult Rennala on external affairs and decide internal affairs yourself. Don't worry. When I return, I'll give you a long vacation and a hefty bonus."
Uriel looked at Horace, his eyes filled with nothing