With the treatment progressing and Lady Clarissa’s gaze phobia easing, I made my way to her room. It was necessary to establish a public record within the manor that I, the Saint, was frequently attending to her.
Mira was already inside, acting as Rein’s guard. Lady Clarissa accepted her presence now, no longer shrinking away in fear.
However, just because her phobia had lessened did not mean her fear of the Saint had vanished. She maintained a blatant, palpable distance from me.
"It has been some time, Lady Clarissa."
When I spoke, she offered a greeting in return, though her frame trembled visibly.
"It... it has been some time, Saint."
I understood the circumstances. However, to be perfectly honest, the fact that she was using Rein did not sit well with me at all. Bitter words spilled from my lips before I could stop them.
"To think that after giving up because you could not endure my treatment, you would attempt to save yourself by using Lord Rein—someone so young—as a surrogate. How truly wretched of you."
"Ugh... I have no words to offer in my defense..."
"And to do so after he endured the very treatment you could not, no less."
"What...!?"
I knew I was merely venting my frustration. Lady Clarissa was simply sensitive to pain; she hadn't actually committed a crime.
Under normal circumstances, I would have looked upon her with cold, indifferent eyes, as I did with everyone else. But that was only if she wasn't causing Rein any pain.
I was well aware that I lost my composure whenever Rein was involved. I knew it, yet I couldn't stop myself.
"Oh? You didn't know? Lord Rein has endured my—the Saint’s—treatment, you see. I cannot divulge the details, but he bore wounds far, far greater than your own. Don’t you think it’s a bit too convenient to have someone shoulder your pain when they have already mastered the agony you fled from?"
She froze, as if unable to process the weight of my words. Then, she began to shake violently.
"Ah... ah...! I...! I truly have no right to be healed..."
Her lament was cut short by Rein.
"Wait! This is something I decided, Big Sister Therese."
He looked at me with those gentle eyes. "I’m happy that you’re getting angry for my sake, but it’s fine now. I’ve already made up my mind."
"You... honestly!!"
He was so heartbreakingly selfless that I wanted to pull him into a hug right then and there. If we had been alone, I certainly would have.
However, because Lady Clarissa was positioned behind Rein, I noticed something.
Her eyes were wide, her gaze fixed and transfixed upon him.
Seeing that expression, I realized the truth.
Ah, I see.
I recognized that look. It was a gaze I had seen countless times at the Church.
It didn't stem from human emotions like affection, friendship, or romance. It was something parched and absolute—the unwavering look born from the faith of a pious cleric.
Once I recognized it as such, I exhaled slowly.
Lady Clarissa will never become Rein’s enemy. If that is the case, then it is enough.
With that realization, I decided to lower my spear against her.
◇◇◇
As I stepped through the gates of the Marquis's Manor, the sounds of the city rushed toward me in a single wave.
The clatter of wagon wheels on cobblestones, the cries of vendors echoing through the market, and the rhythmic shouts of men hoisting sacks of grain. Just listening to the morning in a city within the Great Granary Region made a warmth spread through my chest. This was what prosperity sounded like.
A spirited voice called out from a bakery storefront, "Black bread is cheap today!" If the price was low, the bellies of the poor would be filled. That was a good thing, I thought.
A short distance away, two knights of the House of Ahrens followed to provide protection. To be honest, I didn't think I needed guards, but I suppose the Marquis had his status to consider.
The bell tower of an old church came into view. Standing before the doors, I lightly brushed the dust from my cloak.
Inside, the church was silent, as if the city's clamor had been severed by the thickness of the stone walls.
A few believers sat on the pews, praying in silence. At the far end stood the statue of Goddess Viviana. On the altar at her feet, several candles flickered.
I walked to the front, knelt, and clasped my hands. I lowered my gaze.
O Goddess of Life, Viviana.
I began to recite the formal prayer in my mind.
Grant that all living things may fulfill their span of life. Grant healing to the sick and a second breath to the wounded. Please watch over the fulfillment of my duties.
It was my usual prayer. But it nearly slipped into something else entirely.
I only want Rein to be safe. And if possible, I want to be with—
That could not be called a prayer. It was a mere selfish desire. I let it graze my mind for only a second before concluding my devotions.
The candle flames on the altar swayed. The shadows of the fire danced at the Goddess’s feet.
◇◇◇
"Saint, had we known you were here, we would have come out to welcome you."
As I moved away from the altar, an elderly priest spoke to me.
"I was only praying. Shall we go then?"
He led me to a back room. In the center was a large table, around which many people were already seated.
While a Saint is a public figurehead, the role requires frequent travel. Because of this, whenever I wasn't busy with treatments, I was expected to inspect local churches and provide reports. No one questioned why I was attending a meeting on church management. Though it was a sin to think so, the task was tedious.
"This year’s harvest is expected to be average, and the frequency of soup kitchens will likely remain the same as in previous years."
"Donations from the nobility and merchant houses are steady, but contributions from territories near the border have been decreasing for several years. It seems bandit activity is becoming more frequent."
"Is it truly bandits, or the influence of Seltheim disguised as such? Can we not reach out to the church over there?"
"The churches there have strong national independence; it’s likely impossible. I wouldn't be surprised if they viewed territorial conquest as nothing more than a way to open up more clerical posts."
"I truly wonder about their conduct as fellow followers of the same deity."
"Can we not secure more donations from the Central?"
"That is also difficult. The need for healing is highest in the provinces, so those in the Central view us as little more than an insurance policy."
"A dire situation, indeed..."
Even hearing all this, there was nothing I could do besides include it in my reports. I wasn't in a position to intervene, so I simply acted as a decorative object, focused entirely on my notes.
"Are there any changes within the Marquisate of Ahrens?"
"Nothing significant. Though there are reports that epidemic diseases are slightly on the rise in the slums."
"There is always some illness or another each year. Besides, disease is the domain of doctors. We have no choice but to let it be."
While we discussed these matters, noon arrived. The sound of a stomach growling echoed in the room.
"My apologies. It is about time for lunch. Let us eat."
With that, the meeting concluded.
As we filed into a small dining hall further back, a server nun quietly brought out the plates.
Rye bread, lightly salted vegetables, and a steaming, thin soup. As I took my seat, the priest beside me spoke.
"It is a humble meal, so I doubt it will be to your liking, Saint."
"Not at all. I was raised in an orphanage myself. I find it to be a good, warm meal."
The priest's expression softened slightly. We offered a prayer before the meal and began to eat.
The priest took a sip of steaming tea before murmuring, "After this, you will be visiting the orphanage as usual? The children seem quite attached to you. As expected of a Saint."
Actually, the moment I use my power as a Saint, they grow to hate me, I thought cynically, but I replied with a polite "Thank you."
Acting the part of the Saint truly is stifling, I reflected as I continued my meal.
◇◇◇
By the time I finished inspecting the orphanage, thanked the priest, and left the church, I was thoroughly exhausted.
Dealing with children apparently drains more physical strength than one would think.
Once I return to the Marquis's Manor, I’ll look at Rein’s face and rest for a while.
I adjusted the collar of my habit, donned the mask of the Saint once more, and passed through the gates of the Marquis's Manor, which were now bathed in the red of the setting sun.