The moment we passed through the city gates, the roar of the world seemed to surge.
Peeking through a gap in the curtains, I saw stone buildings crowded together, their eaves leaving no room for the sky. Countless cargo-laden carts jostled for space, and the rhythmic cries of street vendors overlapped in a chaotic chorus.
I had always thought the territorial capital of Werl was a lively place, but the energy here was on a different level. As the heart of the Great Granary Region, the sheer volume of merchants and carriages was beyond comparison.
Through the curtain gap, I spotted stalls with open sacks piled high with grain. "Fresh rye, cheap rye! Just arrived!" a vigorous voice boomed. I found myself thinking that in such a fertile land, even bread must be inexpensive.
"We will reach the Marquis's estate shortly."
Anton’s low voice drifted back from the driver's seat.
"—Lord Rein. As we discussed, we will be staying at the Marquis's estate tonight. Tomorrow morning, we return to the home territory."
I nodded silently. This arrangement had been decided before we ever left. The treatment would likely be a long-term process, and having knights from House Werl stationed at the Marquis's estate indefinitely would be too conspicuous. They couldn't leave our own territory under-guarded forever.
"I leave Lord Rein’s safety in Mira’s hands. Please contact us once the treatment is complete."
"—Take care, Anton. Everyone, please stay safe."
"We will. And may you be safe as well, Lord Rein."
The carriage eventually slowed, its wheels coming to a final stop against the cobblestones.
Mira was the first to dismount, her eyes quickly scanning the surroundings for any threats. Satisfied, she gave me a small, sharp nod.
I followed Big Sister Therese out of the carriage. Behind me, Lina—dressed in the same nun’s habit as I—reached out to softly pinch my sleeve.
Two figures waited before the entrance.
"Saint. Thank you for visiting us once again."
A stout man bowed deeply. This was Marquis Ahrens—Lord Gerhard Ahrens. He appeared to be in his forties, with honest, solid features, yet deep hollows of exhaustion hung beneath his eyes. The Marchioness standing beside him looked equally worn.
The carriage porch was empty of servants; it seemed the area had been cleared for our arrival.
After a courteous greeting to Big Sister Therese, Marquis Ahrens led us into the depths of the manor. No one else appeared in the long, silent corridors.
The door to the drawing room closed behind us. Inside, tea was already waiting, steam curling into the air.
"—No prying eyes can reach us here. You may remove your hoods."
At his word, I pulled back the cloth. My long silver hair spilled out, flowing down my shoulders.
Marquis Ahrens looked at me. My heterochromatic eyes—one light green, one blue—met his gaze.
"—I see. It is no wonder they call it a demonic beauty. I certainly couldn't allow daughters of a similar age near him..."
The Marquis muttered the words so softly they were barely audible. He glanced at his wife, who gave a faint, knowing nod.
As if he had been waiting for that silent confirmation, Marquis Ahrens turned fully toward me. Then, to a child dressed as a nun—someone who wasn't even a legitimate heir to a house of lower rank than his—he bowed his head once more, deeply.
"First, let me thank you for coming. Please, sit."
Marquis Ahrens gestured toward the chairs.
◇◇◇
Once we had settled into our seats, a heavy silence lingered for a breath before Marquis Ahrens spoke.
"Inspector Hermine has reported everything she witnessed in Werl to me. —Everything. I requested your help knowing full well that you injure your own body to perform your treatments. Asking a mere child to sacrifice his own flesh is, fundamentally, an act beneath the dignity of any noble. However, my family's circumstances offer no other choice."
Marquis Ahrens rested both hands heavily on the table.
"My house has only daughters. My eldest, Clarissa, was engaged to a man from one of our vassal families to ensure the succession, but that injury has brought all marriage talk to a halt. At this rate, the right of succession will fall to my second daughter’s fiancé, and the house will be stolen from us."
"To break the second daughter's engagement, we need the other party's consent. It would be fine if they accepted a monetary settlement, but they are unlikely to agree when they are in a position to seize the entire house. A unilateral cancellation would lead to my house being impeached at the Central—in the courts and the palace controlled by the Robe Nobility. Even if I were to adopt a son now, his rank in the line of succession would be lower than that of the second daughter's fiancé. To be honest, we are politically cornered."
"While the fiancé himself is not flawed, he is a member of the Robe Nobility with no education in territorial governance. It is inevitable that the administration of this land would fall into chaos. If that happens, the victims will be my people, and eventually the entire region that relies on our food supplies."
"I am deeply sorry to ask this of you. But I humbly implore you. Please, heal my daughter."
He bowed his head again, lower than before.
"Please, raise your head. —I came here intending to help from the start."
"I don't like the pain... but I'm used to it..."
I intended the words to be reassuring, a simple statement of fact. But the moment they left my lips, the air in the room grew suffocatingly heavy.
"—Thank... thank you."
Marquis Ahrens looked at me with eyes that seemed to be witnessing something tragic, his voice choking up.
For a long while, the only sound in the room was the soft clinking of teacups as the tension slowly ebbed.
After composing himself, Marquis Ahrens spoke again.
"Before we begin the treatment, let us discuss the reward."
A proposal had been drafted, but the final decision had been left to me. This was less a request to House Werl and more a personal contract with me. However, I was to inform Father of the outcome via fast horse immediately. If anything seemed unfair, Father’s instructions were for me to abandon the treatment and return home at once.
The Marquis’s first offer was monetary.
"One year’s worth of revenue from my territory. —Paying it all at once would cripple us, so I would like to pay it in installments over thirty years. How does that sound?"
I couldn't immediately grasp the scale of that sum. A full year's revenue from a Marquisate that served as the kingdom's granary. Spread over three decades. It was a staggering, astronomical amount of money.
But I shook my head.
"I will not take money."
In my discussions with Father, we had agreed not to seek gold. Seeking money felt too transactional, which I disliked, and I wanted something that couldn't be bought with coins.
"Instead—I want you to make a promise, Marquis Ahrens."
I took a breath.
"When I seek help. At that time, I want House Ahrens to dispatch its full military power to support me."
The room fell into a profound silence.
I understood Father's intent. Lately, he had been increasingly worried about the movements of enemy nations. He valued a sword that would move in an emergency far more than gold in a vault.
—Furthermore, I didn't know where my path would eventually lead. But Father likely foresaw a future where I might move to a land near the border—a place where war could erupt at any moment. He was securing the power to protect me here and now, before I ever stepped foot there.
I would pay for this treatment with the pain of my own flesh. What I was buying in exchange for that agony was not gold. It was soldiers and generals. It was someone’s life—and one day, perhaps, my own.
Buying lives with pain.
That was the contract I had in mind.
"A request for reinforcements without a specified enemy... —In other words, you are asking us to bind our fates together."
Marquis Ahrens pondered the request for a long moment before answering.
"……Understood. Upon the name of House Ahrens, I shall fulfill that contract."
Relief washed over me, making it a little easier to breathe.
Just as I thought the negotiations were over, Big Sister Therese spoke up, her voice quiet and steady.
"Marquis Ahrens. —I shall be the witness to this covenant."
"If this agreement is broken, or if any word of this child’s nature leaks from your house. Or, if this child is ever left to die by your hand."
Her voice was cold and hollow, yet beneath it, I could sense a simmering heat like molten magma.
"I will use my influence as the Saint to move the Church. I will exert every ounce of my power to ensure every recovery practitioner currently assigned to the clinics in this Marquisate is withdrawn."
The air in the room turned freezing in an instant.
If the Church’s recovery practitioners were pulled out, the medical system of the entire territory would collapse. It was an unmistakable threat.
Marquis Ahrens didn't even blink.
"Understood. This is a promise that cannot be made public. Such a heavy shackle is only appropriate."
He accepted the threat meant to bind him with total composure.
◇◇◇
Finally, we could discuss the patient. The Marchioness began to speak about Lady Clarissa.
"Clarissa—my daughter—has not left her room once since that day."
"We haven't told her anything yet. Only that we are still searching for a cure. She doesn't know you have arrived, nor the nature of the treatment..."
"If we give her hope and it fails again, I don't think she will ever recover. Moreover, she has developed a deep terror of the procedures themselves... Now that you have agreed to help, I should explain it to her, but..."
"Shall I explain it?" I offered. "It might sound strange, but since I am still small, her fear might be a little easier to manage."
"Thank you... truly. If you could do that... please, I beg of you. I will take you to her room."
I nodded.
I pulled my hood back over my head and stepped out into the hall. The Marchioness guided me toward the furthest wing of the manor. Apparently, the girl was terrified of being seen by others, so only the Marchioness and I were to enter.
At the very end of the corridor, we reached the door.
I stopped before it and took a steadying breath.
The Marchioness knocked softly.
"Clarissa.……I’m coming in."
After a pause, a reply came—a thin, raspy sliver of a voice.
The Marchioness placed her hand on the door and slowly pushed it open.
Following behind her, I stepped into the room.