On the outskirts of the royal capital, in a quiet corner of the ruined city, stood a building: an unlicensed clinic, home of the healer Zenos, which was soon to be the hideout of the saintess Artemisia.
The well-worn door creaked softly as Zenos pushed it open. Upon seeing the interior, illuminated by the morning sun, Arty let out a strange sound.
“Waow...”
Although the clinic was regularly cleaned and maintained, it had still originally been an abandoned building, and thus the air of age and decay was unmistakable.
“Um, is this a warehouse? A dump site?” the saintess asked.
“It’s a house, and, sorry to say, the place where you’ll be staying.”
“You’re joking, yes?”
“I’m very serious.”
Since they had no idea when their pursuers might return, the group had considered leaving the lake at night. But they’d told the knights that they were camping, so if Zenos and the others hadn’t been there anymore upon the guards’ return, it would’ve aroused suspicion. In the end, they’d chosen to err on the side of caution and stayed in the tents until morning and had only now returned to the clinic.
The knights had never returned to the campsite. Zenos figured they were probably still searching the mountains—which meant the situation had to be quite dire.
“Are you sure this is okay?” Arty asked. “Can anyone really live here? Won’t I get sick?”
“This is actually pretty outstanding compared to the average home in the slums,” Zenos explained.
“What? You can’t be serious. There are houses worse than this?”
“I mean, we don’t have to hide you, if you don’t like it here...”
“Oh! No, I jest. Yes, it was just a little teasing! Wooow, look at this place! How wonderful! Living here is a dream come true!”
“Are all saintesses this...lively?”
Arty steeled herself and took a deep breath before nervously stepping inside. Zenos gave her a tour of the building, starting with the treatment room, then the dining room, bedroom, bathroom, and so on.
“A...treatment room,” she mused. “Ah, right. You said you’re a healer.”
“Unofficially,” Zenos said. “I don’t have a license.”
“Really?”
“Now, next up...”
Arty looked like she was about to say something, but she thought better of it and followed Zenos in silence. They stopped in front of the bathroom.
“This...is...a bathroom?” she asked.
“Are you going to react that way to everything?”
“Um...you do scatter seasonal flowers, right? And the tub is filled with purified holy water?”
“Miss the royal palace already?”
“N-Not at all! Oh, this is fantastic! I can hardly wait to bathe in here!”
It was hard to tell whether she was highly adaptable or completely inflexible.
After touring the first floor, Arty looked toward the stairs. “There’s a second floor too.”
“Yes, but due to, ah, reasons, we can’t go up there. Do you mind sticking to the first floor?”
“I don’t, no...”
For the time being, it was decided that Arty and Lily would share the bedroom and Zenos would take the living room couch. With the tour done, Lily brewed tea while Zenos and Arty sat opposite each other in the dining room to take a breather. Though the saintess was hesitant at first, she eventually reached for the chipped cup she’d been given and took a small sip.
“Oh, this is delicious,” Arty said, staring at the warm liquid in surprise. “What kind of tea leaves are these?”
Lily lifted the teapot and said, “It’s my original blend. I don’t actually know what the leaves are called, since we get them from the black market.”
“The...black...market.”
“I’m gonna have to start charging for explanations at this rate,” Zenos muttered.
“I-I simply don’t know about these things, all right?!”
To be fair, it did seem unlikely a royal girl would know much of the world outside the palace. It was only natural she’d be confused by such a different lifestyle, having gone from the top of the hierarchy to the very bottom.
“Anyway, let’s get our stories straight,” Zenos said, making Arty tense up slightly as she sipped from her cup. “So you’re a royal and the saintess, which makes you pretty special as far as this country goes, correct?”
“Well, yes, technically. At the moment, however, I’m but a lovely traveling maid.”
“Right. And here in the slums, outsiders stand out, so it’s better for you to have a cover identity. So you’re Arty, a traveling maid, and...let’s say I hired you because I needed extra help at the clinic.”
“How lucky you are, to have such a beautiful girl in your employ!”
“And it looks like I need to teach you how an employee should behave around her employer. Good to know.”
Since she needed more background than simply “traveling maid,” they decided that Arty originally hailed from East Elmea. People from the friendly eastern nation often came and went freely between the two countries, and many of them lived in the Kingdom of Herzeth.
“Now we just need to figure out the other details,” Zenos said. “Got anything?”
“Umm... My strongest suit is being cute, and my weakest suit is doing housework.”
“And you’re supposed to be a maid how, exactly?”
“Well, I’m really cute, which I’m sure helps.”
“You think you can ‘cute’ your way out of everything?”
“Anyway, my specialties are...blessings and prayers. I can heal injuries and illnesses, and I can predict the future a little.”
“Said no maid ever.”
“O-Oh...”
As Arty visibly deflated, Zenos looked up at the ceiling. He hadn’t seen Arty’s healing himself, but Carmilla had mentioned that it wasn’t magic. Maybe it was some sort of power unique to her as the saintess?
“Wait, did you just say you can predict the future?” Zenos asked. He’d almost missed the comment with how casually she’d said it, but it was quite the claim.
Still holding her teacup, Arty nodded. “Yes, but it’s not that impressive. I can’t choose what to look into. It’s more like a vague feeling that hits me in the chest without warning...”
Perhaps it was something like Carmilla’s intuition, then—less the gift of prophecy, and more a spirit’s sharpened instincts.
“Then it becomes this abstract sort of image, floating in the sky... Nothing good comes of it. It’s not very concrete and often causes more trouble than it’s worth.”
Zenos’s gaze followed Arty’s out the window, but all he saw there was the clear morning sky. Still, there was uneasiness in the saintess’s features. What was she seeing?
“If only I could see the face of my future husband, or something...” Arty muttered. She sighed, then turned her gaze back to Zenos. “So how long will I be hiding...um, working here?”
“How long do you want to be working here?”
“Until I’m satisfied, I suppose...”
“You say that so casually, like you’re not basically a national secret.”
“I’ll go home once I get what I want.”
“You mentioned wanting something before, but you didn’t specify what.”
Arty chuckled. “It’s a secret!”
Zenos stared at her silently.
“H-Hey! Why are you clenching your fists? You can’t lay a finger on me! That’d be treason, you know!”
“I know that.” With a sigh, Zenos slowly pushed to his feet.
He’d agreed to shelter her due to her situation, but he still very much doubted that a royal girl could adapt to the life of a slum dweller. If anything, she would likely start longing for palace life again soon, return willingly, and the problem would resolve itself.
“Well, all right,” he conceded. “But if you’re going to play at being a maid, you’ll have to work. If you don’t work, you don’t eat.”
“Work...?” Arty echoed, looking surprised for a moment before giving him a confident grin and a thumbs-up. “Heh! I’ve got this. Prepare to be amazed by my maidly capabilities!”
“She says, with zero experience...”