<Episode 27>
[She's caught up in a family feud, that child.]
The circumstances of Ridge that Agatha told me about were quite complicated.
Apparently, helping Ridge would bring great benefits. It would be a huge help to me.
But even without those benefits, I already.
'I want to help.'
Horte's voice, asking me to help those children, lingered in my mind.
How tough must it have been for them to band together without anyone to rely on? Not even in the Capital City, so begging wouldn't have been easy, and with those tiny bodies, could they even find work for a piece of bread?
My nose tingled, and I rubbed it unnecessarily before speaking to Ridge.
"Ridge."
"What."
After swallowing the last of the bread, Ridge, who had been looking regretfully at her hands, suddenly lifted her head.
"Let me introduce myself again. I'm the Saintess, Dorothy."
"I don't believe you."
"You saw me heating the food earlier, right? That was a pretty decent miracle."
"You must have some trick."
She seemed to have considerable distrust.
In times like these, there's one surefire way.
"Hmm. Then this is just for you, a little peek. Don't tell anyone elsewhere."
"What—huh?!"
Lifting the High Priestess had worked wonders before. This time, I slowly floated Ridge upward.
Not abruptly like before, but gently. Slowly. As soft as laying a baby in a cradle.
"Wh-what is—"
"Ridge. I am the Saintess."
I said with an awkward smile. I'd said it out loud a few times, but the word 'Saintess' still didn't sit right on my tongue.
"I know there are lots of bad adults. But can't you believe me just once?"
"......"
"I want you to eat something delicious. You've been hungry for so long, right?"
"Re-really... the Saintess...?"
Floating gently inside the shack, Ridge looked at me and asked again.
"Yes."
"Why would the Saintess come here...?"
"Because Lord Horte wants me to help you all. And it's my wish too."
"Adults don't care about us...?"
Ridge's eyes trembled as she said that.
As if hope had taken root.
The wary child grasping hope at a single miracle. Deep down, she wanted to rely on someone.
"Is that so? I'm very interested, though?"
I approached Ridge and hugged the floating child tightly.
Ridge still looked bewildered.
"Let's eat first."
And as my hand touched her body, I realized it. Ridge's condition was worse than it appeared. I held the child and stepped outside.
The other children's eyes widened at the sight of me.
* * *
I still had no money or anything.
So naturally, the only place to bring the children and care for them was the Grand Temple.
The Temple originally had a duty to provide shelter to the poor, lost patients, and orphans, so I brought them without hesitation and gave each their own room.
In the process, an administration staffer hinted, 'Bringing so many will be a problem; even the High Priestess won't approve,' but I resolved it quickly.
As always, very easily, using divine power.
To the staffer's words of 'We have no spare rooms. Food supplies are limited too,' I recited the exact number of unused rooms in the Grand Temple that no one knew about and subtly threatened by revealing his weakness.
He immediately switched attitudes.
The more I thought about how the staffer, who had been kind to the Saintess until realizing it was something the High Priestess would dislike, discarded that courtesy, the more absurd it seemed.
'Does he think the Grand Temple exists to serve the High Priestess?'
[That XXX bastard's XX is spouting what XXX nonsense right now—]
On the way back after dealing with the administration staffer, Horte, the god of children, fumed with rough words.
He was still angry about the staffer giving the kids a hard time before it was easily resolved.
Amid it all, his voice was so clear and pure, like a child's god should be, making the mood oddly strange.
[Lord Horte, calm down.]
[I swear, that XXX XX's family will never have children. I won't allow it.]
Horte even intervened in conception?
As I was about to ask, I hit a wall.
I'd walked absentmindedly to the end of the hallway, lost in thought and conversation.
"Ah, look at me."
I pulled myself together and entered my room.
The Temple carriage was large and nice, but cramming in seven kids meant squeezing the whole way.
The children hadn't bathed in ages and were filthy; my clothes were dirty too.
I quickly bathed, changed, and... instead of the bed, went into the wardrobe.
"Saintess-like clothes, Saintess-like...?"
I wanted to pick out clothes in advance for tomorrow's visit.
I opened the wardrobe and stepped inside. What was called a wardrobe was a massive dressing room big enough for several people to lie down in.
At first, it was empty, but over time, it slowly filled from casual wear to outfits for going out.
The High Priestess must have figured I needed clothes if she was parading me around. Good for me.
Seemingly eager to imprint that I'm the 'Saintess,' she crammed it full of very holy white dresses.
I set aside several white dresses and carefully selected and changed.
No need to call anyone. Agatha helped.
After choosing, I set aside lace like a plain veil and the old hooded robe I'd used before.
Then I rummaged through the bag I'd brought from Demong and pulled out the necessary 'items.'
Good. Ridge, right? I'll find her parents and...
Grab a share for myself too.
I smirked at my preparations. Planning to move tomorrow.
* * *
Among the Empire's famed nobles, the four great ducal houses, Berardi—called the 'noble of nobles.'
Berardi Duke's residence was a grand mansion that felt imposing.
And within, the study where the master resided.
A sharp-faced woman with long white hair neatly pinned up was lost in deep worry. The elderly Duke Berardi.
As age brought mobility issues, it was time to step down soon, yet...
Another wave of long-standing worries made her head throb. The Duke took a deep breath.
Her physician said no stressful thoughts, but her position made avoiding stress impossible.
"Tch."
If not for 'that incident,' she wouldn't need to worry so much about the ducal house's future. Had doom truly befallen Berardi?
Today too, sitting in her study sipping herbal tea good for calming mind and body, the Duke's face only deepened with wrinkles.
Knock knock.
"Enter."
"Ma-Madame...!"
In that leisurely yet melancholic afternoon, the old butler entered the Duke's study with a flustered face.
"What's the matter? For the Duke's chief butler to act so rattled."
At the unprecedented sight of the old butler, Duke Berardi sharply rebuked.
But the butler, who should have straightened up at her word, continued flustering.
"Th-the Saintess...!"
"What about the Saintess?"
"N-no, Madame. Th-the Saintess... has come to visit!"
"Come to visit for what? Did she find a holy relic or—"
"No! Right here, at the ducal residence!"
"What? Why would the Saintess come here?"
"She says she has words to share. And it would be good to attend worship together."
"......Worship?"
The Duke wondered what nonsense the butler was spouting.
Frowning in thought, she looked at him.
"Do you judge the visitor to be the Saintess from the newspapers? Her face isn't published, so hard to tell... Do you know her face?"
The Duke's faith was about average for Empire citizens.
She attended regular Temple services and donated. But not actively proselytizing or joining scripture groups.
She thought she'd go to paradise, Hoi Naphta, after death.
Just that level. So she didn't know the Saintess's face.
She wanted to meet, but it wasn't necessary.
"No, I don't know her face exactly, but... the visitor was unmistakably the Saintess to anyone who saw her...?"
The Duke clicked her tongue at the butler's entranced mumble.
Who knew what backlash if it was the real Saintess and she turned her away. True or not, confirmation was needed.
She'd heard a rough description anyway. A plain woman with light flaxen hair.
The Duke rose, donned her robe, and strode out. Low heels clicked clearly.
Heading to the lobby, upon seeing the woman there, the Duke thought.
'It's the Saintess...!'
Sunlight pouring from the mansion's large windows seemed entirely absorbed by the woman.
Indeed.
The Saintess truly shone saintly.
In a white dress, smiling kindly, with a halo behind her.
The Duke steadied her trembling heart, descended the stairs, and stood before the Saintess.
"Sorry for the sudden visit."
The Saintess greeted politely in a gentle voice.
The Duke swallowed. Perhaps due to the unreal atmosphere, she felt unworthy to speak.
"What brings the Saintess... here?"
Convinced the woman before her was the Saintess, Duke Berardi mustered herself to ask.
The Saintess grasped her skirt hem and lightly curtsied.
"I've come to share good words, Duke."
The clear amber eyes holding Duke Berardi blinked twice.
"Good... words?"
"Yes. God loves you."
The Duke looked at the Saintess, then slowly nodded.
Sudden visit was odd, but words from the Saintess were surely precious.
If not her, who could be the Saintess? A beauty hard to describe... an aura.
If the god she believed in manifested, it'd look just like this.
Thus, her ordinary faith soared skyward. Excitement of receiving a precious being.
"What words... Ah, not this—come inside first. Butler, prepare."
"Yes, Madame."
Overwhelmed by the saintly aura, the Duke welcomed the Saintess.
Following the Duke's guidance, the Saintess let out a small sigh of relief.
'Blessing of Beauty—it's awesome.'
Admiring the goddess of beauty who granted the upgraded blessing.
