31.
I barely managed to collect myself and continued speaking.
“Anyway, don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone what you said.”
“What do you mean?”
“All those things you just told me honestly.”
Friane looked surprised for a moment.
Then a gentle smile spread across his face.
“…Thank you.”
“Well, I heard it, so of course I should be responsible for it.”
At my casual remark, Friane went silent.
Then he started staring straight at me.
I couldn’t take it anymore and muttered,
“Stop staring and just eat your food.”
Thankfully, Friane quietly looked away and picked up his spoon.
As I finally relaxed a little, something suddenly occurred to me.
Wait—where was Zaka?
He said he was going to get my crutch, but he still hadn’t come back.
Even after the servants came and cleared the dishes, Zaka didn’t return.
Soon, tea was served naturally after the meal.
Friane spoke again.
“But… are you really sure I can’t?”
“Can’t what?”
He laid his palm open on the table.
His fingers were long and elegant, the joints sharp and bony—beautiful, but strong.
I remembered how they actually felt a little firm.
“You like holy power, don’t you?”
“….”
So he knew.
My cheeks felt warm.
“I looked it up, actually. Everyone says it feels warm and gentle. So I’m not the weird one.”
Of course, no one had said they’d felt so dazed and soft they thought he was glowing or anything crazy like that.
“I know,” he said quietly.
“….”
“But you know, wounds heal with time. It’s the aftereffects that remain that can be dangerous. If you’ll allow me…”
In the end, I reached out to him.
When I laid my hand over his palm, he looked at me—half smiling, half unreadable.
Then he gently wrapped his fingers around mine. A faint light spread from his hand.
The warmth was soft and comforting—like being laid again into the cradle you were born in.
My eyelids trembled.
Before I realized it, I was gripping his hand tightly.
Then—
The door burst open.
Zaka stood there, holding the crutch, his face stiff.
One look at his expression, and I could guess what he must be thinking.
“…How long have you been standing there?”
Zaka didn’t answer. He simply stepped inside, came straight to me, and set the crutch beside my chair.
“Here it is.”
Then he glanced at me briefly. Instinctively, I tried to pull my hand away from Friane’s.
But Friane caught my hand again before it could fall.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, looking at me as though he truly didn’t understand.
But I knew better.
That calm, faithful expression didn’t fool me. He was not clueless.
I opened my mouth to explain, but he spoke first.
“Baroness, would you like me to do it the same way as before?”
The same way?
He waited for me to meet his gaze, then looked down at our joined hands.
He meant that time—when he had poured his holy power into me and brought me back to consciousness.
I remembered it clearly: his hand touching my forehead, sliding down to my cheek, and then…
Friane caught my changing expression, glanced at Zaka, then gave me a mischievous smile.
“Or perhaps not, here?”
“…”
I should have known back at the banquet—when he’d thrown that drunken idiot right off the terrace without hesitation.
He had a way of being unexpectedly bold in strange moments.
Then I heard a soft laugh beside me. Zaka bent down slightly, leaning one arm on the table so his face was close to mine.
“Baroness.”
“Y-yeah?”
“Do I bother you that much?”
His tone was smooth and gentle, matching the faint smile on his lips—but his sharp, ice-blue eyes betrayed it.
“N-no…”
He didn’t even seem interested in my answer. His voice dropped low, calm but cutting.
“What’s there to misunderstand? A sick person getting treated is normal.”
“…”
“Just like how I watch over you all night.”
“…”
Watch over me? Oh, please.
He only stayed up to make sure I didn’t sneak a drink at night!
And honestly—did he really think I’d be shameless enough to open a bottle when I could barely stand?
It wasn’t like I was hiding under the blankets chugging wine!
I suddenly felt a wave of helpless frustration.
Zaka, seeing my sulky face, straightened again.
“You were coughing at night, but you seem fine now,” he said simply.
Then, as if suddenly remembering that Friane was there, he turned his head slowly.
“Ah, Priest.”
He definitely said that on purpose.
“Thank you for helping the Baroness. You must have worked hard.”
His tone was polite, but there was no missing the sarcasm buried in it.
Could I stop him? Of course not.
I just lifted my teacup and focused on tasting it instead.
Hmm. Bitter at first, but a little sweet at the end. The aroma wasn’t bad either…
Friane, who had stayed silent so far, smiled faintly and replied,
“No, thank you. I should be the one grateful.”
For someone being provoked, his answer was surprisingly calm.
I half expected him to correct Zaka—that he wasn’t a priest, but a holy knight.
But he didn’t even seem to notice or care what Zaka had called him.
“Anyone can offer care,” Friane continued softly, “but this… only I can do.”
“…”
“I’ve become someone the Baroness can’t be without. How could I not be grateful?”
“You sound almost happy that she got hurt,” Zaka replied coldly, not bothering to hide his irritation.
“And you sound different, somehow?” Friane shot back immediately, his tone sharpening.
“At least I can heal her. I can make sure she’ll never suffer again.”
“…”
“So tell me—who do you think the Baroness needs more?”
I couldn’t say I fully understood Zaka’s jealousy, but one thing was clear—
This was not a good moment.
Friane noticed how my eyes flickered toward Zaka, and his expression suddenly hardened.
He lowered his gaze.
I quietly set my teacup down.
“Are we finished?”
Friane’s hand twitched around mine.
“…Yes.”
I pulled my hand free and stood up with my crutch.
“I’m going to take a walk.”
“…”
Friane hesitated, clearly unsure how to respond.
It was, admittedly, a polite way of telling him to leave.
But during that small pause, I changed my mind.
“Would you like to come with me?”
His face instantly brightened.
Of course, I wasn’t giving up my quiet time just to be nice.
I had something to ask him.
“Heretics?”
He looked at me carefully.
I hadn’t mentioned the hunting festival incident—just in case.
It was tied to the Imperial family, and I didn’t want to cause trouble.
“Why do you ask?”
“There are rumors… that the heretics are behind both the war and the recent cases of human trafficking.”
“That part is true.”
“And… something about strange drugs as well.”
Friane stopped walking and turned toward me.
I shifted my weight on the crutch and faced him.
“Can I ask you honestly?”
“…Yes.”
“The elixir—could it possibly be the work of the heretics?”
His gaze deepened.
Even though he knew no one else was nearby, he still stepped closer and lowered his voice.
“Have you asked anyone else that question?”
“Not yet… no.”
“Then don’t. Not until there’s clear proof to prove your innocence. Don’t give anyone a reason to suspect you.”
“Why? You think the inquisitors will come drag me away?”
“You’ve never seen them up close. That’s why you can say that.”
“Oh, I know. If I’d been unlucky, they would have taken me quietly and killed me four years ago.”
“…”
“But I’m alive. That’s why I never really thought much about the heretics before. But lately…”
“…”
“I have a feeling they might be connected after all.”
“What makes you think that?”
“The elixir. Are you sure the heretics aren’t involved?”
I expected Friane to stay silent in the end—bound by his position, unable to say much.
But instead, he reached out, his fingers trembling slightly as he squeezed my hand and then let go.
“When you’re fully recovered,” he said quietly, “come find me at the temple.”
“At the temple?”
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
“Not now?”
“…Not now. It’s difficult at the moment.”
“Alright,” I said softly.
I didn’t ask any more questions.
But I promised him I would come.
