CHAPTER 62………………………………
Philip had left first, and I was about to step away as well.
A woman appeared inside the temple, clutching a newborn, staggering slightly as she walked in.
It was clear at a glance that she hadn’t come to pay respects.
Her dry eyes were empty. I furrowed my brows and tried to see the baby.
Though the infant’s face was buried in the mother’s chest, I had a sense that the reason this woman had come all the way here with that expression wasn’t for prayer.
So I moved toward the stairs leading to the central courtyard.
The woman paused as if noticing me, then clutched her baby tightly and ran forward.
“Saint! Saint!”
She reached me in the courtyard and grabbed my hand in urgency.
Young paladins, who seemed recently enlisted, hurried toward us.
“A-are you the Saint? You are the Saint, right?”
The woman looked as though she hadn’t eaten for days—probably because of the baby she was holding.
“Saint, please, save my baby. The fever won’t go down.”
It wasn’t me who stopped the paladins from restraining her as she clung desperately.
“Let her stop.”
“Commander—”
“B-but she suddenly rushed at the Saint—”
The woman trembled, released her wrist, and shook her head violently, sobbing.
“Please… just this once. Saint… please, look after my baby.”
At her plea, the paladins flinched, then straightened up, scratching the back of their heads in embarrassment.
I looked down at the child. The baby’s cheeks were red, and patches of fever rashes covered the body.
“May I hold the baby for a moment?”
The woman bit her lips tightly, holding back her tears, and handed me the infant.
“The physician says to give up, but how can a mother give up…? I’ve tried herbal remedies, but nothing works. Please, Saint, save my child.”
Perhaps because her voice carried desperation, or because the paladins gathered around, I could feel people’s eyes on us.
I pressed my lips to the baby’s forehead and infused healing.
“Little one… don’t be in pain.”
A white light shimmered and seeped into the baby.
“May the protection of Gloria be upon you.”
The child, who hadn’t opened their eyes, now revealed clear, sparkling ones as the fever subsided.
Only after seeing those eyes did I smile faintly.
“Don’t trouble your mother. Grow up healthy.”
“Sa-Saint…”
The woman calling me sank to her knees, and the tears she had held back finally spilled. My chest ached.
It was strange, the feeling of meeting someone who so desperately needed my power.
Though it was a trivial power for me, it had saved a life.
The baby’s laughter caused the woman’s sobs to grow louder. I looked at her, then back at the infant, and spoke softly.
“Seems your mother was very worried about you.”
It might have been awkward for the baby to be held for the first time, but the child giggled without discomfort.
I waited until the woman’s tears subsided.
The crowd that had gathered gradually surrounded us. Some called my power a miracle; others cried in empathy with the woman.
Seeing her unable to stop crying made me feel even more solemn.
Alex handed the woman a handkerchief.
She cried for a while longer, so intensely that I worried she might collapse.
Then she steadied herself on shaky legs, stood, and bowed to me.
“Thank you, thank you, Saint… I’m so grateful you saved my baby…”
Tears streamed down her face as she swallowed the end of her words.
“You must take care of yourself too, for the baby’s sake.”
“Yes… yes… I w-will.”
I embraced her with one hand as she covered her mouth.
“Thank you for coming to me. May God’s blessing reach you as well.”
The woman, holding her child, repeatedly bowed in gratitude.
Perhaps it drew attention because healing and blessing had never been performed in the central courtyard before.
When I looked around, those whose eyes met mine gasped. I smiled faintly at them and stepped aside.
Alex followed.
“Saint, were you just meeting with the temple head?”
“Yes. Thanks to prior notice, I was able to coordinate with the commander.”
“Duke Ferdian…”
“I understand. If I had said nothing about His Grace, I might have lost the commander’s trust.”
“Saint—”
“Yes, speak.”
We walked through the courtyard, speaking in whispers so no one could hear.
“May I ask your intent?”
Alex might have been curious. Or maybe he had noticed.
From the funeral to this pilgrimage, Cardin’s attentiveness toward me must have puzzled him.
I smiled faintly without stopping.
“I like His Grace, the Duke.”
Alex stopped mid-step. When I turned to him, he looked puzzled.
“You mean… His Grace?”
“Yes. I mean him.”
He furrowed his brows.
“Does His Grace know of your feelings, Saint?”
“No. He doesn’t.”
I turned and continued walking.
Alex caught up with long strides.
“Couldn’t he help you? At least, the Duke you saw on the pilgrimage would surely side with you.”
I didn’t want him to see my expression, so I fixed my gaze on a distant building.
“I fear… he might side with the temple, entangled with them.”
“Eh?”
I didn’t answer his question.
“I’m going to check the prayer room. And you, commander?”
He glanced at the prayer room and said,
“I’ll go with you.”
“Alright, then.”
Alex stood slightly to my side and opened the prayer room door, made available for memorial prayers.
Normally nobles and commoners would pray separately, but here, everyone was gathered together for remembrance.
A red carpet ran down the center, with long benches facing each other.
White chrysanthemums were stacked atop the empty casket in front of a statue of God.
After finishing prayers, people placed chrysanthemums on the casket to conclude the memorial.
I picked up one chrysanthemum by the door and slowly walked along the red carpet.
Though the thick carpet muffled our footsteps, people widened their eyes at Alex and me.
A murmuring arose. I lowered my gaze and stood before the empty casket.
“So many still deeply miss His Grace.”
As my voice echoed alone in the prayer room, many eyes followed my every action.
“Perhaps because His Grace inspired many in life, so many have yet to forget and share their longing.”
Even my insincere words made people dab their eyes with handkerchiefs.
“Some say, don’t bury the departed too soon, don’t call them to return, don’t summon them.”
Those present held their breath, unsure whether I spoke to them or to the Pope.
“If you keep calling, how could the departed rest peacefully? But how can we not? Even burying and sorting our emotions takes time. Those who weep for His Grace surely feel the same.”
I placed the chrysanthemum atop the pile of white flowers.
“When the time comes that sorrow is naturally buried, may they forget this world and find happiness… That day will come. Until the hearts still longing for Him are ready, please wait.”
I made words I didn’t feel sound sincere.
I offered the chrysanthemum as a trace of idealized memory.
You, already dead, may face your punishment there. May God forsake you.
I turned away with a faint smile, meeting Alex’s eyes.
“Lead the way.”
“Yes.”
I walked the red carpet as if it were stained with the Pope’s blood.
A woman approached the casket with a chrysanthemum. Others followed, continuing the memorial.
The sounds of strong emotion gradually faded.
