“This is the road to the Central Sanctuary. What are we going there for?”
Dragged along by Lulumiya, Enno’s beautiful sapphire-blue eyes were full of confusion.
After picking up her glasses at the jewelry shop, Lulumiya had led her straight to the Noble Street.
“Heh heh, I have my own ingenious plan,” Lulumiya replied, her expression proud and mysterious. “But, Enno, do you want to get on Grandpa Sandel’s good side? I’m just afraid you’ll get mad when the time comes…”
“I’m not a fool,” Enno said, half amused and half exasperated. “This is the royal capital. If I don’t get along with Sandel, how could I ever become the Holy Son? Even among the Holy Sons, I’m not the strongest one.”
Really?
Lulumiya wondered in her heart. If she hadn’t witnessed Enno ask Lant about the preferences of each noble in the capital, she would have believed Enno to be the stubborn and inflexible type. This much was evident from her repeated resistance to Sandel’s discipline.
Lulumiya had always thought Enno was a bit conflicted. She knew she should get along with Sandel, yet deep down she was rebellious and thought her own training methods were better—which wasn’t strange at all. Everyone has duality: when calm, you know what’s best for you, but when emotions rise, reason flies out the window, and regret comes only after the fact.
The reason she asked knowingly was to make Enno say what she needed to do aloud, to reinforce the concept.
Now that Enno had confirmed it, Lulumiya was relieved.
“Then I’m at ease. In a moment, just watch my cues, Enno.”
Without giving Enno a chance to ask questions, Lulumiya made a few discreet inquiries and soon arrived in front of Sandel’s study.
There were more than just Sandel himself in the study. Through the open door, several Scholars in blue robes and church hats were discussing with Sandel.
“Since the temple was built on the Commercial Street, the Old Church has been abandoned for seven or eight years. Instead of letting rats and bugs run wild in there, why not sell it to the nobles? That way, we not only save the demolition costs, but also get a subsidy—best of both worlds.”
“Yes, and sending people to maintain it is also an expense. Apart from a few elderly folk, no one goes to the Old Church anymore. If outsiders see Lady Istel’s statue covered in moss and in ruins, what would they think of us?”
Two middle-aged Scholars were earnestly persuading.
But the elderly Scholar disagreed.
“I don’t agree. Nobles are all greedy, depraved scoundrels who’ll do anything. If we sell the Old Church to them, who knows what they’ll use it for? What if it becomes a brothel or a casino? How would we explain that to the believers?”
◎
“Then set the rule before selling it: no brothels or casinos.”
“And what about the character of the buyer? Can you guarantee that the person who buys it will always be virtuous? Even if he’s a highly respected noble, there’s no guarantee his descendants will be the same. If some scoundrel appears, what will people say about us?”
“They’ll say ‘That certain noble living in the former Old Church is up to all sorts of dirty dealings,’ and it’ll be the Church’s reputation that suffers. Cardinal, let me be clear: as long as I’m alive, I’ll never allow the sale of the Old Church! That’s an affront to the Church’s honor!”
The elderly Scholar slapped the table hard, so agitated even his beard trembled.
Sandel stood up and tried to calm him down. “Don’t get so worked up, Keren. I never said I was going to sell the Old Church.”
“If you don’t say anything, doesn’t that mean you just want to see our attitude? Well, my attitude’s right here: either expel me from the Church, or leave the Old Church alone!”
“Lord Keren, please calm down. We’re just having a peaceful discussion.” Several of the middle-aged Scholars spread their hands helplessly. “The Old Church has been abandoned for a long time. Leaving it alone costs us a fortune every year for maintenance. What do you suggest?”
“Use it as a warehouse, or for helping the poor. What’s wrong with that?”
“The temple on Commercial Street already handles that.”
“I don’t care. The Church’s property can only belong to the Church. It must never be sold to outsiders!”
“Alright, alright, everyone settle down,” seeing the old Scholar about to flare up again, Sandel hurried to smooth things over. “I called you here to help me with things, not add to my headaches. Let’s put the Old Church matter aside for now. All of you, just go back.”
“Then, Cardinal, we’ll be leaving.”
“Go on, go on.”
Like shooing away the plague, Sandel practically pushed them out the door.
Lulumiya quickly pulled Enno to hide, and waited until Sandel stretched his back and sat down in his study for a while before exchanging glances with Enno. Pretending they’d just arrived, she knocked on Sandel’s door.
“Sandel, teacher.”
Lulumiya stood at the door, holding a stack of papers, head bowed with her shoulders hunched, looking rather timid.
Not knowing what mood Sandel was in, she addressed him as ‘teacher’ instead of ‘grandfather.’
Sandel, who was buried in his writing, glanced up. Seeing it was Lulumiya, he put down his pen and said calmly, “What is it? Come in.”
“O-okay…”
A chance!
Lulumiya was delighted. As expected, Sandel wasn’t as angry as she’d feared.
Back then, when Sandel had scolded her in the courtyard, his tone hadn’t been severe. Plus, not long before that, Enno had told her after returning from Sandel, “The Cardinal praised you.” Taking both together, it was clear Sandel thought well of her.
Besides, Sandel was very interested in printing the sacred texts by press. He was someone who only thought of the Church. As long as she brought up the type molds, she probably wouldn’t be rejected.
She carefully walked to the desk, not mentioning her earlier lie, and simply handed her papers—filled with writing—to Sandel.
“These are my recent improvements to the type molds. I wanted to ask Grandpa Sandel to have a look…” Speaking in a weak voice, knees pressed together, Lulumiya took a small bottle of ink from her pocket. “I also made some improvements to the press. The regular ink used before wasn’t suitable for printing. This kind of viscous ink is better. With it, there’s no ink bleed, and the printed sacred texts look much nicer…”
“Hmm—” Sandel picked up Lulumiya’s drafts, first glancing at Enno, who had followed her in but stayed back, then putting on his monocle to review the drafts.
He was a shrewd man. From the first glance at Enno, he knew Lulumiya’s visit wasn’t just about discussing technicalities, but he pretended not to notice and took a much thicker, neater stack of documents from his drawer.
“It just so happens I’ve worked out the first draft of the type molds’ designs with a few other Scholars. Take a look, let’s exchange ideas—maybe we’ll learn something new.”
“Alright.”
Then, as if nothing had happened, the two quietly exchanged ideas: one humbly sought advice about Oenheim language as a student, while the other patiently pointed out all the shortcomings in Lulumiya’s plan.
Once Sandel understood what a printing typeface was, progress on the type molds accelerated. The version he now presented was quite excellent, making Lulumiya’s drafts look like mere scraps. This was professionalism, indeed.
Sandel even took out a bag of type samples from his drawer and arranged them into a hymn of Istel’s faith. The assembled typesetting was nearly flawless, deeply impressing Lulumiya, who took the opportunity to ask many lingering questions.
◎
It had to be said, Sandel truly had a knack for teaching. Aside from lacking a bit of humor, he explained things simply and clearly, making them easy to grasp. Whether it was because he enjoyed teaching or because creating type molds was creative work, he introduced them with the pride of presenting his own work. Throughout, he was brimming with enthusiasm.
At first, Lulumiya was very cautious in her questioning, and Sandel’s responses were measured—she asked, he answered. But as the discussion deepened, Sandel’s mood warmed up; soon, he began recounting the conflicts that arose with other Scholars, and how they eventually resolved problems together to produce this now-usable set of molds.
Lulumiya felt that Sandel must have been stifled for a long time.
Just look at how heated the argument about the Old Church was earlier. As Cardinal, Sandel handled a mountain of daily affairs, all of them draining, leaving him little time for real teaching. Though he had the duty of training Holy Son candidates, they were already grown and each had their own agenda, far from pure students.
Moreover, the Holy Sons’ lessons were more about magic than about words, with almost no real textual discussions. So, when a student sincerely sought guidance on letters, for someone who loved words as much as Sandel, it was like a dam finally breaking after years of stillness—knowledge and passion rushed out in torrents.
Clearly, he preferred being a teacher to being a Cardinal. You could tell from the first time they discussed the type molds.
“This version can be used for test casting. Any objections?”
“None at all. Your design is the final one.”
Sandel laughed heartily. “Final? This is just the beginning.”
“In any case, I’ll get someone to cast these into metal type, then try them in your press, with your ink. If it works, we’ll make a few samples and send them to His Holiness the Pope at Tide Sound Cathedral, for the Cardinal Council to review.”
“If the Cardinal Council approves it, not only this year but for years to come, the Oenheim Diocese will set an example for others. The whole diocese will get more funding. Lulumiya, this is a great merit for you; you’ll become famous in the Church, no doubt.”
At the end, Sandel looked at Lulumiya with an approving gaze, like a sect elder examining his proudest disciple.
“This isn’t my merit alone,” Lulumiya hurriedly shook her head. “I only raised the problem. Grandpa is the one who solved it; your name should be on it.”
◎
“You really know how to flatter, don’t you?” Sandel chuckled and smacked his lips, raising the plan for another look. But after just a few seconds, his monocle slipped from his eye.
Frowning, Sandel picked up his glasses again. Lulumiya’s eyes lit up like a hungry ghost spotting dinner. She perked up her tail and promptly pulled out the glasses she’d prepared from her pocket, handing them to Sandel.
“Grandpa, would you like to try these? It’s a little token from Enno and me—see if they’re convenient for you?”
Gazing at the silver shine of the glasses in his palm, Lulumiya’s heart was in her throat. To ensure Sandel would accept them, she’d taken them out of their fancy gift box ahead of time, just to make them look cheap. Sandel was an honest man; if they looked too expensive, it wouldn’t feel right. Sincerity was enough.
“What’s this?”
Sandel picked up the glasses and examined them. At a glance, he could tell the material was ordinary, nothing precious.
“These are also called glasses, but they’re an improved model. Take your lens off and stick it to my frame with Resin, and try wearing it.”
Lulumiya blinked expectantly, like a child waiting to be praised for good grades.