“THE glare makes my eyes hurt.”
Once their carriage arrived at the royal palace, Fiona and Linus made their way to the venue, where she was met with one surprise after another.
The space was several times larger than the royal audience chamber and illuminated by several chandeliers. The shiny floors displayed intricate patterns set in stone, and the number of people dancing to the music played by the orchestra were more than she could have ever imagined. On top of all that, everyone in attendance wore stunning outfits complemented by luxurious accessories.
Everything and everyone sparkled so brilliantly, blindingly, that her eyes stung.
The scrumptious spread piqued her interest, but this world she had stepped into was so different from anything she knew that it was all just too much for her.
When the king introduced her as the Saint of Cost Performance, Fiona had been certain there would be some backlash. Surprisingly, there had been no opposition, perhaps because no one would directly defy their ruler.
However, that was a separate issue from whether or not the people would accept the existence of a saint. At the mention of how her ability emphasized cost-effectiveness through waste reduction, a few individuals’ expressions became stormy. She suspected they had been directly affected by the waste reduction policies she’d implemented. A request had been submitted for a wig replacement budget for this ball, too, so some of these folks might bear a grudge on that front.
Protect your own darn wigs. Fiona sent the thought fiercely through her mind.
For some time now, she’d been trying to distract herself by thinking of these and various other topics, but it was still too difficult to keep her eyes fully open against the overwhelming glitter around her. When she sighed quietly, Linus, standing next to her, looked at her in concern.
“Fiona, are you tired?”
She definitely was. If she said so out loud, she knew he would swiftly get her out of there because he was a kind man. Unfortunately, as the resident saint, she couldn’t leave so early, so she decided to bear with it a little longer.
“No, I’m fine. Um, I’d like to visit the washroom.”
“Ah, of course. Let me ask one of the staff to guide you.”
That was the reprieve Fiona granted herself, and a maidservant led her to the powder room. Normally, the wide corridors in the palace would make her nervous, but the fact that they weren’t lit to a blinding shine by chandeliers soothed her weary mind.
After taking care of her needs, she stepped outside the washroom, knowing she needed to return to the ballroom. However, she walked slowly to enjoy the calm atmosphere as much as possible. As she ambled, Fiona saw a beautifully dressed flock heading her way.
Evidently, young ladies of good breeding also visited the facilities in groups. One truly learned something new every day, and the new discovery pleased her. Then, the cluster of women stopped in front of her.
“You are the saint? What is this ‘cost performance’ nonsense anyway?”
Fiona had become sick of the mountains of lip service she’d been subject to thus far, so being questioned in such a direct manner was refreshing. She straightened her spine and stared thoughtfully at the golden-haired girl.
“It means evaluating something’s efficacy against its expense. When low costs produce high results, we call that cost-effective. Moving forward, I intend to focus on eliminating waste and increasing cost performance.”
“Ugh, it was a rhetorical question.”
Grim-faced, the maidservant had been watching the girl stalk closer to Fiona and rushed to stand in front of her protectively. When she did, the young noblewoman ominously scowled and shoved the servant aside. She didn’t even spare the woman a glance as she stumbled and fell on the floor. The flaxen-haired girl simply exhaled.
“You may be a saint, but this cost-performance business is questionable, in my opinion. Not to mention, I heard you were originally a priestess. I cannot believe His Highness, ever so kind as he is… Excuse me! Are you listening to me?!”
“Are you hurt?”
Fiona helped the maidservant up, and the woman promptly smacked the dust off her skirt. She only had light scratches on her palms, no serious injuries otherwise.
“You are so uncouth,” the girl snapped.
“Don’t tell us you’re actually going to ignore Lady Mulligan?” One of her hangers-on exclaimed.
Now she knew why the girl looked familiar. She was the same one Fiona had talked to during Linus’ sword training with the knights. As the daughter of Prime Minister Mulligan, it was clear she came from a family of good standing, not to mention how splendid she looked in her ballgown.
But that was all there was to her.
“Why do I have to listen to anything you say?” Fiona retorted.
“Why, you ask?! Because I’m the prime minister’s daughter, of course!”
The girl’s tone was pitiful and admonishing, yet her answer made no sense to Fiona.
“Then a prime minister’s daughter can just push others aside without care or decency?”
Annoyed, the young lady sighed and finally shifted her gaze next to Fiona.
“That’s a servant. It’s her fault for standing in my way.”
“In which case, all you had to do was ask her politely to move. Words exist to be used, you know.”
Fiona still held the maidservant’s hands in hers. When she focused on them, beads of light danced in the air, and her abrasions vanished.
“Thank you very much, Lady Saint.”
“I’m glad there won’t be any scars. Shall we go then?”
“Stop right there, you. Goodness, you are so rude!”
“Hm, I’d have to agree to disagree on that.”
Just as the pack of young ladies, led by the prime minister’s daughter, began attacking Fiona verbally, a clear, beautiful voice resonated around them. Unable to resist it, they turned in the direction from which it came and saw Linus standing there.
His formalwear accentuated his silver hair and indigo eyes, making him unimaginably more beautiful than any dolled-up noblewoman. Even though he had been right next to her until a short time ago, seeing his impeccable figure again brought a dreamy sigh to Fiona’s lips.
Everyone else curtsied respectfully at the crown prince, but Fiona was spectacularly late on the uptake and remained the only one with her head up. Impressed by the young ladies and the maidservant, she hurriedly dipped into a belated curtsy.
“I was wondering what took you so long, so I came to check on you. Only to find this. What business might you have with Fiona, Lady Mulligan?”
Linus strode over to her and surveyed them from his position by her side. Although his smile was as lovely as always, panic bloomed on the women’s faces as if they felt guilty or uneasy.