Chapter 331: The Letters of Investiture

“Uncle? Uncle, why aren’t you saying anything again? Are you daydreaming?”

Gawain’s wandering thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the clear voice beside him. He turned to see Patty standing right next to him, looking up with wide, curious eyes.

“Just remembered something,” Gawain replied casually, then shook his head with a smile. “By the way, how did you get to know Sister Selina, the one who usually takes care of you?”

He knew this was probably the riskiest question he’d asked all day.

The so-called “Sister Selina” was almost certainly Selina Gelph from back then. Given Patty’s cheerful personality and her relationship with “Sister Selina,” there was a good chance she might mention him when she talked about her—mention the strange questions he asked. Would Selina Gelph become suspicious? Would she realize there was an unknown Sleeper watching her?

After a quick mental calculation, Gawain decided the risk was acceptable.

His identity hadn’t been exposed. He was currently a fully normal Sleeper operating within the mental network, so Selina Gelph had no reason to be extra wary of him. It wasn’t unusual for a Sleeper to casually ask a young girl how she knew a big figure in the Church.

Even if Selina Gelph did become curious and tried to investigate, there was nothing to worry about—at this stage, the mental network lacked mature address-tracking or user-management technology. Even high-ranking Church officials could only locate nearby congregants by crudely scanning brainwaves. Selina couldn’t pinpoint Gawain.

And if one day Sleepers developed advanced tracking systems… well, that wouldn’t bother him either, since he was the one who built those systems, complete with backdoors everywhere.

So, after weighing everything seriously, he asked the question in a seemingly casual tone.

Patty didn’t overthink it at all. She happily answered, “When I first came here, Sister Selina was the one taking care of me! She said she was my ‘guide’!”

Gawain frowned. “Guide? Guide you where?”

“I don’t really understand either,” Patty shook her head. “Sister Selina said I have a very special talent, so I need someone to teach me, so I can become useful in the future… but she didn’t really teach me much.”

A special talent? Did the Sleepers recruit this little girl because of some unique ability?

So Patty really wasn’t an ordinary Sleeper follower…

Gawain then asked her a few more questions—how she first entered the network, who introduced or guided her—but Patty seemed confused, as if she couldn’t clearly remember how she initially got in.

Either someone tampered with her memories, or she was unknowingly guided into the network by someone behind the scenes.

Either way, Gawain thought it best not to press further. If Patty’s memories had indeed been altered by Sleepers, the more questions he asked, the more suspicious it might seem.

After bidding Patty goodbye, Gawain exited the Sleeper’s mental network.

When he opened his eyes… well, this time he didn’t see Amber’s face looming over him.

Instead, he saw both Rebecca and Amber’s faces.

The sudden awakening startled Rebecca so much she jumped back two meters, exclaiming, “Wow! The ancestor’s awake!”

Seeing Rebecca’s panicked reaction, Gawain’s first instinct was to quickly pull his hands off the table—he still remembered the last time he startled Rebecca awake, and the “Ancestor, rest in peace” move she’d thrown at him. The memory of that blow was still fresh.

Then he realized something was off. He glanced at Rebecca, then at Amber, who was trying to shrink into a shadowy stealth pose.

“What are you two up to?” he asked.

Amber was about to make up an excuse, but straightforward Rebecca beat her to it: “Amber said she wanted to draw some circles on your face to see if you’d wake up. I didn’t think it would work because you looked like you were sleeping deeply.”

“Amber!”

Gawain called her name, and the half-elf girl instantly transformed into a streak of black light, darting toward the nearest window. But this time, she didn’t get away. Gawain, knowing her emergency escape habits well, grabbed her ankle before she could reach the windowsill and yanked her back.

“I told you to watch over me, and this is how you watch?” he said. “Tell me, have you ever…”

“Never! Absolutely never!” Amber said, balancing midair in a near-acrobatic pose, hopping on one leg as she tried to pull her foot free. “This is the first time I’ve ever had such a bold idea…”

Before she finished, Rebecca bluntly interrupted, “She says she thinks about it every time, just never dared to try.”

“If you can’t keep your mouth shut, don’t say anything!” Amber glared at Rebecca. “I shouldn’t have talked to you so much! Have you never been hit for that big mouth of yours?!”

Before Rebecca could answer, Gawain cut in: “That’s an understatement. I heard from Hetty that she’s been hit more times than you’ve ever stolen wallets.”

After that, Gawain finally let go of Amber’s ankle, and she hopped away, still grumbling. Then he turned to Rebecca. “You didn’t come over just to learn how to get yourself killed with Amber, did you?”

Rebecca suddenly remembered she had business to attend to and slapped her forehead. “Oh right! A letter was delivered to the territory by a griffin messenger… no, wait, a messenger riding a griffin. He bore the king’s seal…”

“A messenger from Saint Suniel City?” Gawain raised an eyebrow. “And riding a griffin?”

Griffin messengers weren’t common. In an era where communication technology was limited and roads were poor, griffin messengers who could cross borders in days were the fastest means of information transfer. Only kings, princes, dukes, and a few extremely wealthy or special nobles and organizations could afford such costly couriers. They were only used for urgent or especially significant messages.

So it didn’t take Gawain long to guess what the message was about.

He nodded. “The messenger should have left by now, right?”

“How did you know? Yes, after delivering the letter, he left immediately—I was going to get a few more people to watch, griffins are so rare, I’ve only seen a few times…”

Gawain looked at his great-granddaughter, who had failed every noble etiquette class, and shook his head. “Of course he left quickly. Francis II’s griffin messengers have been very busy lately. Honestly, if it weren’t for my name, he probably wouldn’t have risked sending a griffin here. Where’s the letter?”

“I have it,” Rebecca said, pulling out a scroll case bearing the pale gold Morn royal crest, sealed with wax at one end. “I wanted to look at it, but Sir Philip said this kind of letter can’t be opened early and must be handed to you personally…”

Seeing the reluctant look on Rebecca’s face, Gawain guessed how hard it was for her to resist peeking. He smiled and took the case, then opened it right in front of Amber and Rebecca.

Inside was a scroll made of fine parchment, tied with pale gold and lavender threads—clearly, this was no ordinary letter.

It was an official royal document.

Gawain unrolled the scroll and glanced over it casually, then tossed it back to Rebecca. “After you read it, put it in the archives. Don’t lose it.”

Rebecca eagerly read the contents, then looked up in surprise. “Ancestor, does this mean you’re now the legal lord of the Kant territory? And the king even gave you a large swath of royal lands to the east of Kant?!”

As Gawain had guessed, the scroll was a royal investiture document—a formal acknowledgment and compromise from the crown recognizing Gawain’s current rule over Kant.

Amber, curious, leaned in. “Let me see! This is the first time I’ve seen a real investiture document… wow! The clasp on the ribbon is gold!?”

“Is that so surprising?” Gawain chuckled at the two girls. “As long as Francis II isn’t senile, this document would have come to me sooner or later. Kant is just a viscountcy; compared to my ducal title, this is a small gift. The king has no reason to be stingy. As for those royal lands… just a little bonus.”

He shook his head slightly. “I just didn’t expect it to arrive early—and by griffin messenger, no less. I thought the investiture documents would be sent to Cecil after spring, but it seems the changing situation has made His Majesty the King feel a sense of urgency.”

“Changing situation?” Rebecca blinked, puzzled. “You mean the situation between Typhon and Ansu? What does that have to do with the investiture documents?”

“Everything,” Gawain smiled. “The war between Typhon and Ansu is likely to be postponed, so the rulers of both countries will have to restart diplomatic efforts. The king himself will probably negotiate. The Second Dynasty’s control over Ansu isn’t as strong as the First Dynasty’s, so to ensure domestic stability during the negotiations, Francis II must appease—or rather, curry favor with—the nobles. Whether they’re pro-war or pro-peace factions, he needs to reach out and communicate. And since I’m neither pro-war nor pro-peace, he has to take care of me too—because as an ancestor, His Majesty is always worried I might suddenly pop up and criticize him.”

(End of chapter)