🌹💘🌹
THAT evening, the saint was still in the cemetery, burying the dead. She had yet to eat dinner. The many layers of her special garb were heavily stained with dirt and blood.
“Priestess… Priestess, priestess.”
Standing behind her, Richard said her name several times before she finally heard him and turned around with a gasp.
“Ah… I’m sorry. I’m still not used to being called that.” She winced apologetically. The saint was still a young girl, her beautiful silver hair spilling out of her wimple. “Ummm…and you are?”
“I’m Ri—”
He abruptly stopped talking when he realized he was on the verge of revealing his real name. When he did, the saint, one step ahead of him asked him if she could call him Mr. Redhead instead. The girl was a quick thinker. Impressed, Richard nodded.
“Sure, that works. I’ll help you. It must be difficult with how small you are.”
“No, I’m fine. I… I’ve buried a lot of people, so I’m used to it.” Her eyes grew dark with sadness.
Without waiting for her to agree, he picked up a shovel and started digging. He replied to her as he did. “In that case, we’re birds of a feather, since I’m used to it as well. So don’t worry.”
“Oh, all right… Thank you then. With us working together, we can finish faster.”
Right after she spoke, she clumsily placed her hand on her chest.
“O earth, bless me with your strength.”
For an instant, her body glowed faintly in the twilight. Then her actions left him speechless. Though she was just a normal slender girl, she picked up the body of a fully grown man, placed him carefully in the hole, and gently covered him in soil. Despite the heavy labor involved, she performed her work so quickly and thoroughly that he almost couldn’t believe his eyes.
Richard shivered in awe when he realized she’d been telling the truth when she said she was fine. “You’re amazing, priestess, you know that? I’ve encountered a few others before my arrival here, but this is my first time meeting one as strong as you.”
Those holy women had been only slightly stronger than mages. They could do so much more if only their abilities were properly cultivated, so he hated to see their potential go to such waste. For the most part, saints here were treated as just that, holy figures to raise the people’s morale and encourage them instead of true combat assets. They were hardly any different from lovely girls and women passing out high-quality potions.
But not her.
“Probably because I’m technically a Special Class Saint.”
“Special Class?”
She answered his question in detail. Saints in Kophe were ranked by their abilities and hers was the highest. Enhancing herself through her supernatural abilities made her as strong as a Second Class Mage. When he heard that, Richard thought of Darius, whom he’d left behind in the Empire.
“I understand now how powerful you are, but there’s no resulting backlash?” he inquired.
“Hmmm…my body gradually grows hot and my mind goes blank. That’s really about it. Mayga Cieux is my first experience with real combat, so I use my powers while monitoring my condition.”
“Incredible.”
“…I wouldn’t say that.” She hung her head down sadly. “Because…I couldn’t protect them.”
Her shoulders trembled. Then she resumed burying the dead in an effort to collect herself. She thanked each individual, stroked their cheeks and hands, and offered a prayer. Their peaceful faces looked so beautiful that it was hard to believe they’d been killed by monsters. Richard assumed her supernatural magic had something to do with that. The way she put each and every one of them to rest, it felt like a mother tucking in her children to sleep.
Her conscientious and skillful movements told the tale of the violence she’d experienced in her life so far. It was heartbreaking to see in this girl, a child really, so small and with such tiny hands.
“Everyone in my village too… If I had just woken up earlier, I could have saved them all. So now, when someone says I’m a strong holy woman…it doesn’t mean anything if…if I can’t protect anyone…”
“Priestess…”
“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t feel like this because I’m supposed to be a pillar for everyone to rely on.”
She smacked her cheeks, wiped away her tears, and smiled determinedly. The setting sun illuminated her grimy face. Richard felt his heart twist painfully at the teardrops still clinging to her eyelashes.
The girl paid him no attention as he stood there stunned. She simply continued the burials in a brisk manner.
“Right, this isn’t the time or place to cry,” she told herself. “First, I need to make sure all of these people return peacefully to the earth. If I don’t, their souls can’t ascend to heaven. Then, I…I need to show everyone on the frontlines that I know what I’m doing, that they can trust me.”
She resolutely clenched her small hands into fists and continued performing burial rites with a sunny smile. The little priestess finally noticed Richard standing there, not moving an inch. She turned her big eyes on him and tilted her head questioningly.
“What’s the matter?”
“Uh…… Sorry, it’s just…I’m feeling so moved.”
“Why?”
“Well…you’re breathtaking, and…simply extraordinary.”
The sudden confession perplexed the saint and she froze. Richard drew close to her, knelt down on one knee, and performed the knight’s salute. He didn’t care if the gesture exposed his identity because it felt so natural to do it.
“Mr. Redhead…?”
The setting sun created an ethereal halo around the bewildered girl.
Because in that moment, Richard had realized that he’d forgotten what it meant to be born as an imperial prince. Forgotten how he wanted to wield the power he’d been granted as an accident of birth. Forgotten what he wanted to do as the imperial crown prince. His power wasn’t to emerge victorious in a power struggle or exact revenge on the people who had driven him into exile. No, he wanted to become the strength for virtuous, extraordinary people like his older brother and this girl standing in front of him, so that he could protect them.
He wanted power. He wanted to become stronger. Finally looking ahead to his future, he swore the vow to himself.
“Saintess.”
Just by using her temporary name, he felt the shackles he’d placed on himself creak.
Ahhh, is this…what they call love?
The emotions that drove people’s hearts couldn’t be stopped by restraints. But above all else, these very emotions rattled those restraints. Happiness, sadness, rage, joy, and everything in between. As well as hatred. And love.
So Richard marveled at the fact that the softer emotions yet remained in him. The unfamiliar sensation racing throughout his body felt good, made him happy, even as it discomfited him. For the first time in his life, he felt joy because he could offer his heart to the person in front of his eyes.
“Saintess.”
He poured his feelings into the word. It frustrated him that he couldn’t ask her real name, but in a way, he was glad he couldn’t. Because if he learned her real name right now, he was afraid the storm of emotions inside him would destroy the binding.
“I feel I came here in order to meet you,” he confessed.
“Y-You’re exaggerating.”
Naturally, she looked confused since she didn’t share in his earth-shattering revelation. Richard didn’t mind though. He simply smiled at her from the bottom of his heart.
“In any case, I’m looking forward to getting to know you,” he said. “I’d love it if you could teach me all sorts of things.”
“You say that, but…you are aware that I’m still a novice, yes?”
“Then how about this? We’ll help each other, since we’re both novices.”
“You’re a strange one, aren’t you?”
The saint still looked baffled, but she gave a resigned shrug before sticking the shovel in her hands into the ground. She smacked her hands on the bottom of her skirt to loosen the dirt from her fingers then held one out to him. Though it was small, the palm was callused and roughened from manual labor and the nails short. The hand of a working-class person. Different from the pale, soft hands of the daughters of nobility who slithered around him so insolently.
To Richard, her hand looked unbearably strong and dependable, tender and beautiful.
“Then…here’s to us being friends, Mr. Redhead,” she said softly.
“Indeed. I can’t wait, Saintess.”
He felt an overwhelming urge to cry.
“What’s the matter? Are you hurt?”
Concerned, she peered up into his face. Richard shook his head with a laugh.
“No, not at all. Just…you’re so wonderful, I feel like I might break.”
For the very first time in his life, he felt grateful for being born.