Once Licia’s condition was confirmed, Weiss dispatched several knights to Clausel. Their purpose was to inform the estate that their return would be delayed.
It wasn't until three days later that Licia’s physical state finally began to stabilize. Even so, her high fever and headaches persisted, leaving her body heavy and lethargic. However, she had recovered enough to manage brief conversations and finally grasp the reality of her situation.
"My Lady. Master Ren has arrived."
"……Yes, he may enter."
The sun had already set when Ren was summoned. Licia had waited for a moment when she felt slightly stronger to call for him, and she sat up in bed as he arrived. As the female knight opened the door, their eyes met. Ren noticed her flushed cheeks and frail appearance immediately.
Her face is still bright red, he thought.
"Master Ren, please rest assured that this illness is not contagious," the female knight said. "I shall wait outside. Call me if you require anything."
Left alone with the Saint, Ren felt a flicker of unease. He knew nobles were usually strict about unmarried youths being unchaperoned, but given their age, he realized that worrying about such indiscretions might be the more improper thought. He pushed the concern aside and approached the bed.
"I’m sorry," Licia said the moment he reached her side. She lowered her head, and when she looked back up, her eyes were glazed with tears. She wore a pained expression that vividly conveyed her frustration and guilt. She looked fragile, her voice raspy and thin—a far cry from her usual self.
When she tried to bow her head in apology again, Ren panicked.
"Please, no! There’s no need to apologize!" He reached out instinctively and placed his hands on her shoulders to stop her. She was burning with fever. Relieved that she had stopped, he quickly pulled his hands back.
"I..." she began.
"It’s alright," Ren cut her off. "My parents don't see this as a burden at all."
Ren had heard from Weiss that Licia was drowning in self-reproach. She had come to the village of her own volition, only to fall ill and take over Ren's bedroom immediately upon arrival. He sat on a small stool by the bed, trying to ease the tension.
"You still look a bit unwell, but I'm glad you're recovering even this much."
Ren was searching for a way to change the subject, wondering if she had called him just to apologize. If so, he didn't want to overstay his welcome while she was still weak.
"I’m sorry about Viscount Given, too," Licia said, taking the lead. "I’ve caused you so much trouble."
She leaned forward slightly. "I think you’ve heard from Weiss, but this trip was supposed to be a demonstration of our intent to the Viscount."
Actually, I haven't heard that, Ren thought.
"We planned to visit more villages than usual and take a long detour back to Clausel. By having me, the Saint, travel through the territory, we intended to show that House Clausel is unified."
As a member of the Neutral Faction without a Patron Noble, this was the most the Clausel Family could do. It was a necessary gesture to discourage other members of the Hero Faction from following Viscount Given’s lead, even if the gesture itself felt fragile.
"That was the plan…… honestly, I hate how pathetic I am……" Licia hugged her knees, her shoulders trembling. Sobs began to color her raspy voice. "I couldn't even beat you once. I'm just a little girl who's done nothing but cause trouble."
"A bout is just a bout," Ren countered. "If we had fought with real swords, I might have been the one who lost."
"You’re just trying to comfort me. But the way I am now, I’ll only ruin my late mother’s reputation."
This was the first Ren had heard of Licia's mother passing away. He realized it must have happened after he was born, yet he had no memory of his father leaving the village to attend a funeral.
Licia noticed his contemplative expression and seemed to read his mind. "When House Clausel was in mourning, my father sent word to the knights governing the villages, like your father, saying they didn't need to make the trip to pay their respects."
"How did you know what I was thinking?"
"Just a hunch. You’re surprisingly easy to read."
Ren offered a solemn apology for his wandering thoughts.
"Don't worry about it," Licia said. Her tone shifted as she spoke of her mother. "I heard that when she found out I was a Saint, she was so happy she practically jumped for joy. Even on the day she died, she told me I would become someone wonderful."
Licia looked proud as she spoke.
"I only know her face through portraits, and I don't know her voice. But every time I fight in those clothes, I feel like she's cheering me on."
"The clothes you wore during our sparring sessions?"
"Yes. My mother used them when she was a child. She was born into a family of Imperial Castle Knights, so she wore that kind of attire from a young age."
They were mementos. For Licia, those clothes were the perfect way to psych herself up for a challenge.
"But it all ended up being for nothing," she whispered.
Ren felt he finally understood her. As a girl branded a Saint, her drive to succeed wasn't just about public expectation; it was about her deep connection to her late mother. This was why she had been so fixated on sparring with him. Her frustration with the other knights at Clausel Manor wasn't arrogance—it was an desperate ambition to grow stronger by facing someone who could actually push her.
"But don't worry. I won't cause the Ashton Family any more trouble."
"…………"
"I’ve spoken with Weiss. I’m truly sorry for all the commotion. I’ll apologize to your parents properly later."
Ren found her incredibly noble. Her desire for growth was for her mother and her people, not herself. But seeing her so broken was difficult to witness. She was as pure as untarnished silver, and he didn't want to see her light fade.
"Next time you come," Ren said, surprising even himself, "please bring a fire-starting magic tool. If you have a spare, of course."
"What do you mean?" Licia looked up, her eyes red and puffy from crying.
"I thought it would be convenient to have a magic tool for starting fires in the kitchen," Ren explained.
"T-That’s why! When you say next time……!"
"I mean when you visit again."
"Listen to me!" Licia stammered, bewildered. "I just said I won't come back because I'm a nuisance!"
"I have my own thoughts on that," Ren said with a smile. "But please think about it, My Lady. Normally, if someone suddenly shows up and demands a fight, anyone would be a bit taken aback."
It wasn't his primary reason for avoiding her, but it was the truth. Licia froze, staring at him. Ren’s smile was gentle and mature—the kind of look that made her feel she could rely on him.
"Don't you agree, My Lady?"
"……I suppose."
"I’m glad you agree. From now on, just give us as much notice as possible. And remember, I have no intention of leaving this village, so don't forget that. As long as it's within the village, I’ll be your opponent."
Ren stood up from his stool. "We’ve talked quite a bit. It might start affecting your recovery, so I'll leave you to rest."
"Wait! Are you... are you really okay with what you just said?"
"Yes. But let’s save the details for later. It’s better to talk once you’re healthy."
Ren walked toward the door. Licia reached out a hand as if to stop him, but her lingering hesitation held her back. Ren turned at the threshold to say goodbye, but Licia spoke first.
"I’m sorry. I hate to ask for more, but could I borrow a pen and ink later? I need to write a letter to my father."
She mentioned she had her own paper and envelopes. Ren started toward the old desk in the corner.
"It doesn't have to be right now," she added.
"There is a small box on the desk with my pens and supplies," Ren told her. "Please use them whenever you need."
"Thank you."
"Of course. Well then, I'll be going." With one last smile and a bow, Ren departed.
Licia stared at the door long after he was gone. "Why am I still looking at the door?" she whispered, eventually collapsing back onto her pillows. Surprisingly, the burning headache that had felt like it would split her skull seemed to have eased.
"Is someone there?"
She called for her personal guard and asked them to bring Weiss.
"What is it, My Lady?" Weiss asked upon his arrival.
"I have a request, Weiss. I want you to take the knights and hunt the Little Boars in the forest. We saw how their numbers were surging on the way here. I want you to cull them."
"But then I won't be able to act as your guard. Is that acceptable?"
"It’s fine. I go on long trips without you in Clausel, and I'll just be sleeping here anyway. I want you to do this for the Ashton Family."
Licia hated being bedridden, but if she couldn't help, she wanted her people to do so in her stead. Weiss was moved by her maturity.
"In your name, I shall do my utmost to repay the Ashton Family’s hospitality."
Weiss left the room looking satisfied.
Left alone in the silence, Licia found she couldn't sleep. She sat up and looked toward Ren’s desk. "Maybe I'll try to write that letter now."
She felt wobbly as she stood, but more stable than before. She grabbed her stationery and moved to the desk. She looked for the small box Ren had mentioned, but found two. One was on the corner of the desk, and another sat on a shelf attached to it.
"I wonder which one it is," she mused, her mind still a bit foggy. She reached for the box on the shelf simply because it was more prominent—an old box covered in dark, melted lacquer.
As she picked it up, the brittle lacquer cracked with a sharp snap. Licia froze as the lid opened.
"Could this be...?"
There, tucked away inside, was the item she thought she had lost. It had vanished during her very first visit to the village, and now here it was, hidden in Ren’s desk. Her own personal undergarment.
"……I see."
A storm of emotions hit her. Surprisingly, her anger was brief. It was quickly eclipsed by an overwhelming, indescribable sense of shame. As a noble daughter, she couldn't simply shrug this off, but she also didn't want to use it as a threat to force Ren to come to the capital.
Still, a mistake was a mistake. He had to be confronted. The mere thought of pointing it out made her want to writhe in embarrassment, but she steeled her resolve.
"Once I'm a bit stronger, we are going to have a very long, private talk."
Licia took her belonging, tucked it into her bag, and climbed back into bed. Her desire to write the letter had completely vanished.