Chapter 8: The Saint of Cost Performance and the Saint of Abundance
“I wonder how they’ll test me against a real saint.”
The day finally arrived for Slava’s Saint of Abundance to visit their kingdom. Fiona and Charles were inside a carriage heading to the royal palace.
“You have nothing to fear, Fiona.”
“So you say, Father, but I am unmistakably a fraud. I’ve already accomplished my primary goals of thwarting the saint summoning and reducing budgetary waste. I suggested to His Highness that I claim the summoned soul has left my person, but he rejected the idea.”
“I’m not surprised at all to hear that.”
Though it bemused her to find Charles nodding in agreement for some mysterious reason, she worried if their course of action was the right one. As a priestess, Fiona could purify monsters, but if they asked her to do something only a saint could, they would discover she was an impostor.
“His Highness put a stop to your notion because it isn’t necessary. I promise he has a good reason, so don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”
“I certainly hope so.”
She sincerely doubted Charles would say that without a strategy in place, so she cautiously chose to believe him.
“Fiona, have you considered how things might be better if you were a real saint?”
“Well, just for now, it would be nice to be a real one if only not to be exposed as a fake. However, I’d much rather be ordinary.”
Even though her hair was an unusual color, and she had no memories before the age of ten. Despite those pesky little trifles, Linus had rescued her, Charles had raised her, and working as a priestess allowed her to lead an enjoyable, happy life. So, she didn’t need anything special. As long as she could live normally, it was more than enough.
“Is that right? You know, Fiona, His Highness and I care deeply for you. Despite his eccentricities, he would never do anything to hurt you. So don’t fret.”
Fiona returned Charles’ smile with one of her own.
✦ ✦ ✦
THEY were ushered immediately to the audience chamber upon reaching the palace. Today, they would only be greeting their visitors, so at the moment, only the king, prime minister, Linus, Fiona, and Charles were in the room.
Nerves chewed at her as they waited for their guests to arrive. Then, the doors opened, and two figures appeared. A flaxen-haired handsome young man and a raven-haired lovely young woman.
It was the first time Fiona met someone other than herself with black hair, and her eyes unconsciously zeroed in on that color. The golden locks of the young man next to her made her midnight tresses stand out even more. Now, she understood Linus’ obsession with black hair. For Fiona, she thought nothing of her hair, but black amongst various pale hues inevitably drew the eye.
The other girl had also been scrutinizing Fiona, but the moment their eyes locked, Slava’s saint looked away. Perhaps Fiona offended her by staring so rudely. And at their first meeting, no less. She felt awful and swore to herself she’d be careful moving forward.
“For our saint to meet yours as a sign of our countries’ friendship is a tremendous honor for us. My name is Paul Slava, and I’m the crown prince of my country. This is the Saint of Abundance.”
Beaming, the king stared at the two of them. The presence of two saints in one room was likely tickling the fancy of the daydreaming man in the prime of maturity.
“Thank you for coming, Saint of Abundance. What a charming little lady you are.”
Looking fairly pleased, the girl in question acknowledged His Majesty’s words with a nod. Paul jabbed her discreetly with his elbow, a silent signal to introduce herself.
“I’m Manaka Yoda.”
She was clearly annoyed, but the king didn’t seem bothered. So long as he was allowed to indulge in his daydreams, he could afford to be magnanimous.
“And this is our country’s Saint of Cost Performance.”
“My name is Fiona Everett.”
Prompted by His Majesty, she curtsied politely and introduced herself. However, Manaka’s gaze was focused somewhere else entirely.
“Hmmm. And who’s that next to you?”
“I’m Linus Gene, the crown prince. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Saint of Abundance.”
He smiled slightly with his usual calm expression. Manaka had been watching him intently as he introduced himself, and now her eyes sparkled.
“He’s so hot! I’ve decided. I’m going to be his wife.”
“…What?”
Everyone in the room said the same thing, but Manaka alone remained in high spirits.
“Crown prince means you’ll eventually be the king, right? Which will make me the future queen. I can’t wait!”
The king and prime minister couldn’t conceal their bafflement, and Paul let out a tremendous sigh. Though Linus’ expression didn’t change, Fiona couldn’t even begin to guess his thoughts on the girl’s proclamation.
“Manaka. You’re behaving insolently toward another country’s crown prince, whom you just met for the first time. Moreover, you have a contract with our nation as its saint. You haven’t forgotten that, hm?”
“Paul, I won’t deny you’re a hottie. But you nag too much, and you’re a serious stick in the mud, so I don’t like you.”
Paul didn’t bother hiding his aggravation as he covered Manaka’s mouth with his hand.
“Please accept my sincerest apologies for this discourtesy. We’ll take our leave for today, and we look forward to tomorrow’s ball.”
Paul practically dragged Manaka out of the room, his hand still pressed so tightly against her mouth that Fiona feared the girl couldn’t breathe. Now that the storm had passed, everyone left behind in the audience chamber exhaled.
“The Saint of Abundance goes far beyond the problem child I expected. I’m so bloody glad Fiona is our saint.”
The king nodded vehemently in agreement with Linus’ comment. Fiona vaguely remembered them discussing the issues with Slava’s saint, but she was dumbstruck at how the young woman behaved toward the crown prince of a country where she was a guest. And as her chaperone, Paul clearly did not have it easy.
For now, their first hurdle to clear was tomorrow’s ball… Yet Fiona found herself worrying. Though no one said it aloud, it seemed everyone was thinking the same thing, and a collective sigh echoed throughout the audience chamber.
✦ ✦ ✦
FIONA and Charles returned home to discover Ada had prepared a light repast of tea and cookies for them. The old adage that the body craved something sweet when tired was true. The crispy, light cookies she munched on gradually healed her heart, weighed down by an unexpected fatigue. She swallowed the happy sweetness with a sip of tea and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Heavens above, what a terror of a saint. She’ll definitely pose a problem. Now I can sympathize with Slava.”
“Be that as it may, she is a real saint.”
She remembered hearing about bountiful crops, but it seemed like the stuff of dreams for an entire country to have a good harvest.
“Well, apparently. But farming will exist even without a saint, eh?”
“She declared her intent to wed His Highness. What do you think of that?”
“Complete nonsense, that’s what. It’ll never happen.”
His blunt words surprised Fiona. Unbothered, Charles took a sip of tea from his cup.
“When a saint is summoned, the first thing she does is form a contract with that country.”
“Oh, really?”
“Technically, it’s the summoner… The point is she makes an agreement with the first person she meets in this world. Saints often possess unparalleled powers, so the goal of such an agreement is for her powers to be used for the sake of the nation and to avoid any abuses of said powers. In return, the country guarantees her safety, which places both parties of the contract on an equal footing.”
Though the king’s flights of fancy drove him to summon a saint from another world, the truth of the matter revealed a far more businesslike relationship.
“Thus, it’s impossible for that saint to marry into another nation. It would run counter to the contracted country’s national interest, so the state would never allow it.”
“But can’t a contract’s terms be changed? The saint desires the marriage, and I think the match might even benefit the Kingdom of Gene.”
Fiona wasn’t sure how the situation would unfold, considering the leaders of their country needed to factor in their relationship with Slava, but she personally didn’t think it was impossible either.
“…Does her demand bother you?”
She put her cup down at Charles’ question.
“Well, His Highness adores black hair.”
His eyes widened before he made a half-groan and half-laugh sound. Then, he reached out to pat her gently on the head.
“Fiona, my girl, looks like you’re growing up, too, if that expression is any indication.”
“Huh? What expression?”
Flustered, she pressed both hands to her cheeks, unsure what he meant.
“I can’t say I don’t feel lonely, especially when I’m still ambivalent about that fool being your partner. But…if you’re happy, then that’s what matters.”
In the end, she didn’t know what he was talking about or what sort of face she made. However, Charles’ amused smile told her she’d get no explanation from him anytime soon. Fiona sighed in resignation and popped the last cookie in her mouth.