Saint's Prison - Chapter 33

Secrets and Parchment

Amal had left her seat to attend the evening prayers, and I seized that opportunity to search the room. I rummaged through pockets, the desk, inside the dresser, and even under the bed, but the old, faded brown parchment was nowhere to be found.

Irritated, I scratched my head furiously.

“Argh, I can’t find it anywhere!”

I had searched every conceivable place.

Yet why couldn’t I find it? It was as though someone had hidden it from me or deliberately taken it away.

(If that were the case…)

I was the only one who knew I had brought that parchment back from the library. No one else should even be aware that I had entered the library. I had been careful about that; there should be no mistake.

Let’s assume someone took the parchment.

Honestly, the most likely person would be… Amal.

She takes care of everything for me—meals, cleaning, laundry, everything. It’s natural to think that she might have come across the parchment by chance and taken it.

I ruminated on the words I had written on the wax tablet in my head.

The oath is something to be protected.

The oath is something to be broken.

The oath is unrelated to Christian precepts.

And―――

(―――The oath is to protect a secret)

If so, could that be the reason Amal took the parchment?

But what I can say for certain now is that she doesn’t want me to know about it.

Amal is incredibly obedient to me.

She serves me like a servant, and sometimes she even speaks as if she were on par with God.

For someone like her to take my belongings, there must be a significant reason. I could assert that much.

Of course, all this speculation is based on the assumption that Amal took the parchment. It’s hypothetical and not confirmed.

If I’m so troubled, I should just ask Amal directly… is what I think, but I just can’t bring myself to do it.

It’s because of what Johanna said, to carry on without letting the other convent dwellers know. Naturally, that includes Amal.

It’s not that I don’t trust Amal. But I want to know the truth. To live with Amal from now on. To protect her from now on.

(What I can remember…)

I tried to recall the content of the parchment. The details still elude me. I had only skimmed it, after all. But there must be something that stayed in my mind.

I sat down on the chair, deep in thought. I closed my eyes, slowly bringing forth the image as if searing it into my mind. The texture of the parchment, its condition, the characteristics of the letters, and the content…

(Come to think of it, wasn’t every sentence… ending with something that must not be done?)

Yes, all the sentences ended that way. That’s why I thought it might be some kind of precept.

But upon further reflection, this might be a taboo, a kind of prohibition, right?

A taboo is to suppress actions that should be avoided. There is hardly anything scientifically proven about it.

However, what could have been thought to happen here if one violated this taboo? From there, one should be able to uncover the basis for the founding of the convent and the relationship between keeping secrets and obeying taboos.

To investigate that, I must unravel the vow.

If so, I indeed need that parchment.

If Amal took it, where could she be hiding it? The first place that comes to mind is her room.

Amal’s room is at the very back of this convent, right next to the chapel. She is at prayers now, so it would be difficult to enter her room without her noticing.

In fact, Amal is with me almost all day. The only time we’re apart is when she’s at prayers, but it’s tough to take advantage of that.

(In that case, the only way is to slip out at night under the pretext of going to the bathroom)

That seems to be the surest method.

Once the plan is set, all that’s left is to act.

While feeling a sense of guilt towards Amal, I resolved to do just that.