As soon as Zenos removed the wooden sign indicating that the clinic was closed, a demi-human with an injured foot came inside. His left pinky toe was crushed and unnaturally bent.
“You can see the bone,” Zenos remarked. “Did something fall on it?”
“Yeah,” the demi-human confirmed with a grimace. “I was hauling some rock from the quarry, and then this happened. It hurts like hell. Just getting here was rough...” He glanced toward the far side of the room. “Hey, doctor, is that a new hire?”
“Hmm?”
Arty seemed to be peeking out curiously from the living room, despite having been expressly warned to avoid being seen.
“She’s here to help out for a bit,” Lily explained quickly. “We’ve been very busy, so she’s helping with housework.”
Arty nodded, beaming. “That’s right! I am in command of all the housework in this home!”
“Commanding from the rear,” Zenos muttered under his breath.
The demi-human raised a hand cheerfully. “Nice! This is a great place to work, sis! Nice to meetcha!”
“S-Sis...?” Arty, clearly unused to being addressed that way, was confused for a moment but managed to force a smile.
After the patient left, Zenos turned to the royal girl.
“I told you to stay out of sight,” he said in a scolding tone. “You do know the situation you’re in, right?”
Arty looked remorseful for a moment, then held her hands together and said, “But staying cooped up in a room all the time is no different from the palace! If I’m always hiding away, won’t it be even more suspicious? I’m in disguise! Isn’t it better for me to act naturally, with confidence? Pretty please?”
Zenos stared at her in silence for a moment. It was true that her distinctive hair and eyes, which clearly marked her as the saintess, were well concealed by the extensions and glasses. Plus, the clinic’s patients weren’t likely to blab to the Royal Guard about anything at all, much less new staff.
“Just don’t use your powers,” he conceded.
“I won’t! Oh, joyous day!” Arty exclaimed, bouncing and prompting a sigh from Zenos.
After that, patients kept arriving one after the other, with complaints ranging from injuries to headaches or stomachaches.
“Heal,” Zenos chanted. His healing light filled the room, curing the patients in an instant as Arty silently watched.
Once things finally settled down, the trio sat together for tea, and Arty spoke up with a puzzled expression.
“Hey, Zenos...you said you don’t have a healer’s license, right? Why not? You’re really skilled.”
“Poor people can’t get licenses,” Zenos explained.
“What? Really?” Arty asked, surprised.
“You didn’t know?”
“Well, now that you mention it... I’ve heard before that the poor are too savage and dangerous, so they shouldn’t be given rights.”
“There are a lot of outlaws among us, sure, but we’re treated like we’re less than human. We don’t have family registers, so we can’t get proper qualifications for anything, which means we can’t get decent jobs. A lot of us end up turning to crime just to make ends meet.”
“I hear the class system is the pillar of the country’s prosperity.”
“Yeah, it’s a great system—if you’re part of those doing the exploiting.”
Arty fell silent, seemingly deep in thought. After a while, she slowly lifted her head. “Hey, Zenos... I know a few elite healers, and I think your magic is on par with theirs. Maybe even better.”
Zenos let out a laugh. “Now that’s an exaggeration.”
“What? Do you not know your own level?”
“I’ve only just started to realize that most people can’t do what I can. I mean, I’m mostly self-taught, and I never received any basic education, so I’ve never been particularly confident about my skills.”
Arty glanced over at Lily with surprise, and the young elf just gave an exasperated smile.
“Well, in any case... I just wanted to say I think you’re skilled enough to earn an official title,” the saintess said.
“I don’t mind the praise,” Zenos remarked.
“If I recommend you, you can probably take the elite healer exam. Depending on the results, they might make an exception and grant you a license.”
“Nah, it’s fine.”
Arty’s eyes widened behind her glasses. “Huh? Why? Do you not want a license?”
“If I get a license, I’ll have to report to the government, and I’d be stuck charging standardized prices. I wouldn’t be able to wring money out of people anymore.”
“O-Oh...” Arty muttered. She puffed her cheeks slightly, clearly dissatisfied.