"Here she lays, in her pajamas, unarmed, and her body ravaged by years and sickness, but still, her beauty is as good as ever, her nobility is surrendering, and her majesty is like a sword that is forever sharp. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 ｉｎｆｏ”

Heathrow stood on the edge of the bed, staring at the woman on the bed.

His hands were clasped over his slightly bulging abdomen, and his body leaned forward, but his neck was deliberately tilted back, keeping his drooping face at an awkward height.

After a period of silence he began to exclaim, and the words seemed to come out of his lips, like flowing clouds in the air, and streams and rivers in the valleys.

"She is still the undefeated Valkyrie, the darling of the heavens, the only glory that can be compared to the sun. ”

Heaslow's admiration provoked Ravel's disdain.

He looked up at the deep man in a rich robe, a bishop's top hat, short black hair, thick dark eyebrows, and a face with clear wrinkles like ravines.

"You know she can't hear your compliments anymore. ”

"I know. ”

The calm reply made Lavelle even more scathing: "You can never please her again." ”

"Do you think I'm flattering, Ravel?" Heathrow looked up at Ravel, who was sitting on the other side of the bed, the handsome but cold man with long light blue hair.

"No, Lavel, I never flatter. Without waiting for Ravel to reply, Archbishop Heathrow asked himself, "My praise to Your Majesty has always come from the heart, an honest response based on truth, and she is worthy of all the words of praise, only more, not less, precisely because I am only honest in telling the truth, and my heart is bright and open, without an inch of shadow." Her Majesty knows this, so she never refuses my compliments, and she will not even give them a chance to begin with those truly flattering words. ”

Lavelle smiled lightly.

He is like a weed growing in the icy water, its slender green leaves soaking the cold of the river, stretching its body with the current at any time, but no matter how far the blades of grass drift, the roots buried deep under the rocks will not be shaken in the slightest.

Ravel lowered his gaze and looked at his "roots", Isabel Müller, Queen of the Kingdom of Rufia.

"You're right, she deserves all the praise. "She is the flaming flower that symbolizes victory, and I am just a green leaf to set off her." ”

As he spoke, Ravel raised his hand, habitually trying to caress the Queen's face, but soon he realized that Archbishop Heathrow was nearby, and the movement of that hand quickly stopped, and instead stroked the thin quilt that covered the Queen.

"I know she saved your life. Ravel suddenly looked up at Heathrow.

"Yes. Heathrow remained calm, speaking in his low, slightly hoarse voice, "From the hands of the bandits, I thought she would be in danger, after all, the bandits had a great advantage in numbers at that time, but she soon made me understand that as long as she is there, victory or defeat is not determined by numbers. ”

"Oh, she must not have imagined that the priest she saved at that time would later become a bishop. ”

"You've heard this story countless times. ”

"Yes, but every time I listen to it, the look on your face makes me feel something. Why?"

"I don't know, sir. ”

"No, you know. Ravel pointed to Heathrow's eyes, "because every time you tell it, you will remember the shock she brought you, and your eyes will see her beauty and heroism again, and only for that moment, your eyes will be bright, Bishop Heathrow." ”

After a moment of silence, Heathrow said, "It was a shocking image. Her Majesty's red hair fluttered in the red glow of the setting sun, her silver sword fluttered in blood, and she roared in the wails of her enemies, ordering her courtiers to kill them. Yes, as you said, she is the flower of flame that symbolizes victory, and because of this, it is not to be seen for long, and neither am I. ”

"For my sake, Heathrow could disappear at any moment, Heaslow. Ravel changed his expression and tone to reveal sincerity, "After all these years, tell me, do you admire her?"

Heathrow looked shocked, "Is this some kind of boring joke, my lord, I am a priest, and my soul has long been dedicated to God." ”

He spread his hands: "And the owner of this body is Your Majesty, and she has all the allegiance of this body, and she has never doubted it. ”

Ravelle smiled disappointedly: "If you want to be convinced, well. ”

"You should understand that I didn't come this time for this kind of nonsense. Heathrow looked at Ravel, his already deep expression becoming more serious, "Tell me how long it will last." ”

Ravelle shrugged slightly: "If the supply of Light Spirit Grass continues, there will be no problem. But you also know that this has never happened, and I don't know what will happen, I only know that the Light Spirit Grass can replace her to give me energy, but I'm not sure how long she can last. ”

"As long as she's still breathing. Heathrow looked quickly at the queen, then back at Lavel, "as long as she's alive......"

"Luckily, Sarginko has been cultivating Light Spirit Grass for a long time. ”

"Saginko has always been a great man of vision, and losing him is a misfortune for the whole kingdom. ”

"You are also a great man of vision, Archbishop Heathrow. You should be able to see the end of me. ”

Heathrow opened his mouth, but did not speak, and when he tried to speak a second time, there was a sudden knock on the door, and both of them looked at the bedroom door at the same time, and the voice of a guard could be heard outside the door.

"His Royal Highness Prince Leicester begs to see you, my lordship. ”

"Got it. Ravel replied, "Let him wait outside the temple." ”

"Yes, sir. ”

The two looked at each other at the same time.

"Need my help, Lavel?"

"Not yet. But you know, he's going to come more often, more impatient, more intense, until he starts a war. No, in fact, he has already initiated, he has killed Sarginko, who will be next?

Lavelle looked at the Queen, whose eyes were closed.

"If I die, so will my majesty, who depends on me for life, I doubt Prince Leicester knows. ”

Soon Lavel smiled sarcastically and bitterly: "He doesn't care at all. Even if his mother would die, as long as it was an obstacle to his ascension to the throne, he would remove it, even if he needed to kill his own mother with his own hands, his eyelids would not blink. ”

Heathrow raised his eyebrows slightly: "You already want to give up?

Ravelle frowned: "Is it because my master fell ill too quickly, too suddenly, and her conceit, so that she failed to set up the crown prince in time, I am responsible for this!?"

"You know what you're shouldering, from the time you became her ghost, Lavel. Heathrow leaned forward again, leaning closer to Lavelle and lowering his voice, "Also, don't think your ambitions are as transparent as air. ”