~Chapter 26~
Come to think of it… who even brought the tea here?
It’s not like Caspar personally brewed it himself.
“Shade isn’t around here right now, is he?”
“No. Normally he lives here, but when he saw us coming, he ran off in a hurry.”
“And… how do you know that?”
“I can sense a spirit’s movements, at least.”
And how exactly can you do that?
Floria paused, tempted to ask, but decided against it.
She already knew that if she pressed him, he’d just reply with something vague like, “Of course I can know that.”
It was the same when she had asked how he even knew Shade in the first place.
“Ah, there’s a way.”
That was all he’d said—without explaining anything.
Still, there was something more important to ask.
“Then how did you even manage to catch Shade yourself? You said he’s a nasty spirit who’s been stealing the holy power of high priests.”
The annex ghost rumors had been around for years—which meant Shade had been stealing holy power all this time without ever being caught.
She’d heard spirits could avoid capture whenever they wanted.
But Caspar had declared he was going to “take down the annex ghost” (in his own crude words) and then actually did it.
Well, all he’d really done was warn him sternly and knock him out… but still.
Caspar just went, Ah, then folded his newspaper and placed it on the table.
“Catching spirits is something I learned in the Basilite Kingdom. I was sold there once back when I was a slave.”
…Yep. She regretted asking instantly.
She decided she should avoid asking him about anything she was curious about in the future.
As Floria quietly looked away, Caspar rested his chin on the table.
“Shade isn’t really what’s important right now.”
“Huh?”
Tap tap—
Caspar tapped a finger lightly against the newspaper. Floria’s eyes naturally went to the headline.
—Priestess Floria of Elio Temple Still a Hot Topic
…What?
Below that, it was even worse:
—Even with Frequent Vacations, Priestess Floria Draws Crowds of Believers
—Time to Officially Recognize Her as a Saintess?
—A Saintess Who Still Grants Confession to Commoners…
Ah.
“Do you want to be a saintess?”
“No. Absolutely not.”
She answered immediately, without thinking, waving her hands.
But then she hesitated—should she really be showing such a strong reaction?
She’d already told the High Priest she’d “think about it” to brush the matter aside.
Oh, whatever.
It was already out there. And Caspar was the type to casually joke about “taking care” of the High Priest, so she decided not to overthink it.
She straightened her back so she wouldn’t look intimidated.
“Why do you keep helping believers? Look here—this says, ‘A believer who confessed to Priestess Floria ran away from an arranged marriage and opened an herb shop that became a huge success. The father even came to apologize.’”
“Well…”
Wow. A small dream of hers had been to sell herbs in the future, and here her believer had done it first.
Anyway…
If I say it wasn’t me, but the villainess’s soul speaking, he’ll think I’m insane.
Although honestly, the real lunatic was sitting right across from her.
“I just said whatever came to mind, and that’s how it turned out. I don’t know why either. You know my holy power is barely worth anything.”
“You just said whatever came to mind, and that’s what happened?”
She left out the part about the villainess’s soul but otherwise told the truth. Caspar seemed to think about it for a moment.
Then he snapped his fingers.
“That’s what a real saintess is.”
His eyes sparkled like he’d just realized something.
Nope.
Whatever she said now, it clearly wouldn’t get through to him. His expression was no different from the happy believers leaving the confessional.
“If the whole Empire treats you like a saintess, and even the High Priest wants to appoint you, why refuse? If it were me, I’d say yes immediately.”
His golden eyes had deepened again. Whenever he got serious, they darkened until they almost looked pure gold.
And truth be told, he had a point—she didn’t have a solid reason to refuse.
She’d been afraid of overwork, but compared to her recent grueling hours, it might not be so bad.
Besides, as a saintess, they probably wouldn’t keep her doing overtime every night.
And Caspar knows I have no holy power. Shade knows it. Even the High Priest knows it.
Yet the High Priest was still recommending her for the position.
But Floria knew she wasn’t saintess material. A saintess was supposed to be selfless, compassionate, and dedicated to helping others all her life.
In the original story, Rose had become a saintess entirely by her own choice.
If Rose doesn’t want to be saintess, they won’t force her…
But knowing her, she would almost certainly accept. She was even described in the original as loving the work.
And if I ever did become saintess, it would just be the villainess’s soul blurting things out on its own.
That was the scariest part.
Sure, so far the believers had all benefited, but there was no guarantee it would always go well.
To be even more honest, she wasn’t sure if the villainess’s soul was even real anymore—maybe she was just using it as an excuse for her own reckless mouth.
If things went wrong even once, she could end up an enemy of the Empire.
“I just like being free. I plan to leave here someday.”
Preferably to some remote countryside where she’d never have to face believers again.
There was a moment of silence. Caspar kept staring at her, and she met his gaze without flinching.
Maybe it was because she dared to look a duke in the eye, but his expression didn’t look pleased.
“That girl…”
He frowned slightly, as if trying to remember a name.
“Rose?”
“Yes. You’d leave her here alone?”
“I plan to stay with her until she becomes an adult.”
That was a lie. She actually planned to leave the moment Rose became saintess—it was just too far off to wait until adulthood.
Caspar’s frown deepened.
“Shade will keep targeting her holy power. If you’re not careful, she could lose it anytime.”
“…Ah!”
Now that she thought about it, that was true.
In the original, Rose had stayed in the main building until she became saintess, at which point a special residence was built for her—so she’d never encountered Shade.
“Should I tell the High Priest about it?”
“No.”
The answer was immediate and firm.
“Why not?”
“The High Priest is the type who quietly sends priests away even after their power is completely drained. He won’t do anything to help.”
Floria swallowed hard. Caspar held up two fingers.
“You have two choices.”
“…”
“One: give up your big annex room and go back to your tiny old room.”
Her face fell immediately. Caspar ignored it and folded down one finger.
“Two: find someone who can help protect her from Shade.”
“Where would I find someone like that?”
She frowned at his now-closed fist. This just sounded like he was telling her to go back to her old room.
And he’d already forgotten Rose’s name again, calling her “that girl.”
He was impossible to understand.
Then Caspar smirked and pointed at himself.
“Right here. Someone to help.”
“…You? Your Grace?”
Floria gave him a doubtful look. She’d been preparing herself to return to the cramped old room and sleep pressed up next to Rose again.
Did he really have that much free time? How could he possibly help? It’s not like he could appear out of nowhere every time Shade went after Rose.
But Caspar only nodded knowingly, as if reading her thoughts.
“And I could also work to make sure you don’t become saintess.”
He leaned forward over the table, closing the distance between them in an instant.
