Crossed Minds (6)
The wind in the mountains had quieted. Clouds still covered the sky, but rain seemed unlikely.
“Put the luggage in the carriage's storage compartment. That one is valuable—”
“Don't dawdle! The saintess is waiting!”
“We're stopping at the imperial palace. Make sure your uniforms are in order!”
The paladins' calls sent servants and attendants hurrying about the villa. They were packing the small furnishings and belongings Rastain had used during her stay.
The saintess sat on a bench at a distance, watching.
She would have liked to help. But whenever she approached, the light of life that surrounded her overwhelmed the people working nearby. Staying out of their way was kinder.
“You're an idiot! That's a trumpet flower!”
“No, it isn't! It's a pink!”
Not far from her, two blind girls were arguing about wildflowers they'd collected. Unable to see their colors or shapes, they were trying to identify them by scent alone.
Rastain didn't interfere. Such childish quarrels could be part of becoming close friends.
Of course, if their tempers grew too hot, things might be different. But they were good girls. She trusted them to apologize to each other.
“Holy Lady.”
Rastain turned toward the familiar voice.
Theorad had arrived, one hand placed respectfully against his chest.
“A humble believer greets the saintess. I came because you asked to see me.”
His formality made her smile. She returned the courtesy.
“Thank you for coming. I hope I haven't summoned you at an inconvenient time.”
“I was looking after the elf, but I stepped out for a moment. She's busy folding a paper sailboat.”
Rastain laughed softly at the picture that brought to mind.
“I'm glad she's recovering from her mana exhaustion. Please, sit with me.”
Theorad took a place beside her.
Nearby stood a white four-wheeled carriage. Servants and paladins were still carrying baggage toward it.
“Are you leaving?”
“Yes. The patient has improved enough that I needn't remain. And I've found the answer to the question that brought me here.”
“What question?”
Rastain looked at him and smiled faintly.
“Viscount Theorad, you gave me the courage to challenge a corrupt world.”
She had seen him risk his life for what he believed was right. Remembering his determination had quieted her own fears and made it harder to look away from the evils she'd witnessed in the Church.
“This is a secret,” she said. “I was made into a saintess.”
For an instant, her thoughts returned to a voice from long ago.
The twenty-seventh test subject. An orphan. No one will complain if this one disappears.
After losing a war against the witches, the Church had searched for a way to restore its broken prestige.
Its leaders had decided that a saintess like the one described in old scripture would bring believers back to their doors.
They had seized orphans whose disappearances would attract little attention and subjected them to experiments.
The procedure was meant to inscribe a magic circle of the light of life upon the heart, drawing on the mana naturally emitted there to sustain the appearance of a miracle.
Many children had died in agony during the attempts.
Rastain survived.
Not because she'd wanted to become holy. She had simply fought desperately to remain alive.
“Are you awake?”
After the operation, she had opened her eyes to find the Pope before her.
His kindly smile terrified her.
From now on your name is Rastain. You were born with the light of life, and you will live as a saintess. Do you understand?
It was an order to become an instrument of the Holy See.
She had been too frightened to refuse. She had nodded.
The Pope brought her before crowds and announced that the saintess of legend had returned.
People knelt before the dazzling light surrounding her and praised her as a miracle. Their devotion flowed toward the Pope as well.
He was unaffected by that light, and so people began to call him the only man who could look directly upon the saintess.
The Church's standing recovered.
Rastain knew the miracle's origin was a lie, but she had kept silent. She feared the Pope would kill her if she spoke against him.
“A saintess who was made…?”
Theorad sounded bewildered.
Rastain had no intention of explaining the terrible details. He was kind enough to try to help her, and she didn't want to drag him into danger.
“It's nothing. I was being silly.”
She rose, giving a light laugh to dismiss the subject.
The paladins had mounted their horses; they were nearly ready to depart.
The two blind girls hurried over and carefully lifted her long hair into place.
Without turning back, Rastain spoke.
“I only called you here because I wanted to thank you.”
She had spent too long pretending not to see injustice because she feared for her own life.
Theorad's example had made that cowardice impossible to ignore.
I'll face the Pope. I'll work with Princess Benelia and put an end to the corruption in the Church.
Rastain shook her head gently and smiled.
Something in the calm resolve of her expression made Theorad bow without thinking.
“Thank you, Viscount Theorad.”
She walked away.
This time, she intended to become a saintess in truth, not merely one the Church had manufactured.
While Theorad was gone, the elf finished her paper sailboat.
She did not play with it or compare it with the boat he had made.
Instead, she sat very still on the bed, pale-faced, her lips trembling. Her fingers tightened around the bedspread.
What am I doing here…?
The instant she'd completed the boat, her mind had returned.
All at once, she could think clearly again—and with that clarity came her memories of everything she had said and done since waking after the night of isolation.
I love you, Theorad…
Heat flooded her face. Her nails pierced the bedding and pricked the skin beneath.
What had possessed her to say such a thing?
Even an impaired mind wasn't an excuse for saying something so embarrassing.
If she could turn back time, she would take those words back immediately.
Unfortunately, they were not the worst of it.
Hug me…
She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her teeth.
I acted like a child!
At least Theorad had known her mind was impaired. Surely he would be understanding about that.
And perhaps she could simply claim not to remember any of it. She was beginning to feel better about that excuse when she hiccupped.
There was something worse.
It's a secret… I want to marry Theorad.
A chill ran down her back.
She bent forward, clutching her stomach as embarrassment became almost physically painful.
“Ah…”
She shook her head hard, trying to convince herself she hadn't said it.
But denying it didn't change the past. Theorad's startled face only became clearer in her mind.
How was she supposed to explain any of this when he came back?
Curled up miserably on the bed, she heard footsteps outside.
She recognized them at once.
He's coming.
She hurriedly straightened and tucked her bangs behind her ears.
Her heart was still racing when the door opened.
Theorad entered with a smile.
“Have you been behaving yourself?”
She could barely look at him. Instead of her usual sharp answer, she gave a timid nod.
She wanted to tell him that her mind had returned to normal. But being in the same room with him suddenly felt far more difficult than it ever had before.
The memories of the days since her recovery had left her painfully self-conscious.
“Oh! You made a fine sailboat.”
Theorad took off his coat and sat beside her.
The elf drew a breath.
“Theorad… I'm back to—”
Before she could finish, he reached over and gently stroked her head.
The touch was soft and warm. She found herself enjoying it in spite of everything.
“Well done. You followed my instructions and made it by yourself. Did you really do all that on your own?”
His affectionate voice made her hesitate.
She'd never known him to treat her with such easy tenderness when he believed she was herself.
If I don't tell him I've recovered…
Perhaps he would continue being this kind.
A conflict she had never intended began to grow inside her.
Just for one more day…
No one would know.
She lowered her gaze. For a moment she hesitated, then allowed herself a lie.
“Yes…”
Only a little longer.
She wanted to stay beside Theorad.