Solenne Clairmont 📚 The Isekai Files

Ding... Dong... Ding...

The cathedral bells were ringing.

Again.

They had been ringing for nearly twenty minutes, their deep, melodious chimes echoing across the imperial capital of Aurélis.

Golden morning light streamed through enormous stained-glass windows, illuminating a luxurious bedchamber decorated with white lilies, gilded furniture, and flowing silk curtains.

A magnificent golden chandelier hung overhead. Religious paintings adorned the walls. Beside the enormous four-poster bed stood a full-length mirror.

And reflected in its polished glass was a woman with long, golden-blonde hair, luminous amber eyes, and a face beautiful enough to belong in a painting.

Solenne Clairmont.

The Holy Empire's beloved Saintess.

The woman whose body now belonged to someone from an entirely different world.

You.

Unfortunately, nobody else knew that.

"Oh! Oh, thank the First Light!"

A young woman in a maid's uniform nearly dropped the silver basin she was carrying.

"YOUR HOLINESS!"

She hurried toward the bed, her brown eyes widening with relief.

"You're awake! You're finally awake!"

Before waiting for a response, she rushed toward the door.

"Someone fetch His Eminence! And Sir Alaric! The Saintess has awakened!"

Footsteps immediately erupted in the hallway.

The maid returned, hastily straightening her apron.

"Forgive me! I'm Sister Mirelle, your personal attendant. You've been unconscious for three days, and everyone has been terribly worried!"

Her words tumbled out faster than she could breathe.

"The physicians couldn't find anything wrong with you, the priests have been praying around the clock, His Majesty sent six letters, and Sir Alaric threatened to arrest Brother Matthieu for suggesting we perform an exorcism—"

"Mirelle."

A deep male voice interrupted from the doorway.

A tall blond knight stood there, his imposing frame clad in polished silver-and-gold armor. A royal-blue cape hung from his shoulders, and a magnificent sword rested at his hip.

His striking blue eyes immediately focused on the bed.

"You're overwhelming Her Holiness."

Mirelle straightened.

"Sir Alaric!"

The knight ignored her embarrassment.

He approached, his stern expression softening.

"Your Holiness."

Sir Alaric Veyne, Captain of the Saintess's Guard, lowered himself to one knee beside the bed.

"Thank the heavens you're safe."

For a brief moment, something unusually vulnerable flickered across his handsome face.

Then he cleared his throat.

"I've doubled the guards around your chambers. No one will disturb you without your permission."

"A commendable sentiment, Sir Alaric."

Another voice came from the doorway.

"Unfortunately, that does not include me."

A silver-haired man entered, dressed in immaculate white-and-navy ceremonial robes embroidered with golden scripture.

His icy-blue eyes swept over the room before settling on the bed.

High Priest Severin Thorne.

Unlike everyone else, he did not immediately express relief.

Instead, his gaze lingered with unsettling precision.

"Saintess Solenne."

He inclined his head.

"Welcome back."

Mirelle bowed so quickly she almost stumbled.

"Your Eminence!"

Severin approached the bedside.

"Three days of unconsciousness following an unexplained incident in the Inner Sanctuary. An extraordinary occurrence, even for someone blessed by the First Light."

Alaric's jaw tightened.

"She's only just awakened. Surely your examination can wait."

"Her condition is precisely why it cannot."

"She needs rest."

"And the Empire needs its Saintess."

The two men exchanged a distinctly unfriendly look.

Mirelle nervously raised her hand.

"Um... Your Eminence? Sir Alaric? Perhaps we should mention the other matter?"

Silence.

Alaric slowly turned toward her.

"Mirelle."

She swallowed.

"The Festival of the First Dawn."

Severin closed his eyes briefly.

"Ah. Yes."

Mirelle offered a deeply apologetic smile.

"You see, Your Holiness... today is the most important religious festival of the year."

Outside, the bells rang again.

"Thousands of pilgrims have traveled to the capital. His Imperial Majesty will attend personally, along with the entire royal court."

She fidgeted with her apron.

"And... well..."

Alaric exhaled through his nose.

"Just say it."

Mirelle squeezed her eyes shut.

"YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO PERFORM THE GRAND MIRACLE AT NOON!"

Another silence settled over the room.

From somewhere outside came the distant roar of thousands of worshippers chanting the Saintess's name.

"So-lenne! So-lenne! So-lenne!"

Mirelle smiled weakly.

"It's only the annual blessing! The one where you summon the First Light, illuminate the Grand Cathedral, and heal everyone gathered in the sacred courtyard!"

She paused.

"...In front of approximately thirty thousand people."

Alaric rubbed his forehead.

"You're not helping."

"I'M TRYING!"

Severin, meanwhile, remained suspiciously calm.

"Naturally, we can postpone the ceremony if Her Holiness is unwell."

Mirelle visibly relaxed.

"Oh, thank goodness—"

"However," Severin continued, "the Emperor has already announced her recovery to the capital."

Mirelle went pale again.

"And His Majesty has requested a private audience before the ceremony."

Alaric muttered something profoundly unknightly under his breath.

Severin ignored him.

Then the High Priest stepped closer, his silver hair catching the morning sunlight.

His expression was courteous.

His eyes were not.

"Before we discuss the ceremony, Your Holiness, there is something I must ask."

He opened a small velvet case.

Inside rested a delicate golden pendant bearing the symbol of the First Light.

For the briefest instant, the gemstone at its center shimmered—not quite gold, not quite violet.

Severin's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.

"This was found beside you in the Inner Sanctuary."

He looked directly at you.

"Tell me, Saintess Solenne... what is the last thing you remember before you lost consciousness?"

Mirelle waited anxiously.

Alaric watched the High Priest with thinly veiled distrust.

And outside the cathedral windows, thirty thousand people continued chanting the name of a woman who was no longer there.