Even a Scoundrel Gets Tired

119 – Before the Intrusion

“Saintess, won’t you sit here for a moment…”

“….”

“Ha… haha, I see it won’t work… the knight is glaring so fervently…”

Each day, Sir Therin removed the lecherous rabble

attempting to approach the Saintess.

Honestly speaking, he found his duty quite fulfilling.

Because he was able to attend to the Saintess.

‘Therin, this time, you will be in charge of guarding the Saintess.’

‘…Understood, sir!’

‘Why, oh why, does it have to be you!’

‘I want to be next to the Saintess too… *sob*…!’

He could still not forget

the faces of his comrades when he had received this task.

*If I cannot savor a delicacy, neither shall you.*

A countenance ill-fitting for a Saintess ascetic life,

yet Therin could understand them, dimly.

Because the duty he held was the most meaningful one

for a knight.

“My, Saintess, your dress is exceptionally beautiful!”

“Haha… I am grateful for your praise, Sister Haren.”

To attend to the one called the Goddess’s proxy, and

to prevent the lecherous rabble from

drawing near her.

Was that not the most fulfilling thing

for a knight sworn to obey the Goddess for life?

He knew that truth well, and thus strived harder.

To allow the Saintess, by any means, to walk a path more comfortable.

“Saintess, perhaps it is time to return to your chambers…”

“…Saintess?”

Something felt amiss, though.

Normally, she’d be clamoring to retreat to her chambers this instant.

But she hadn’t uttered a single word this entire time.

Even though she herself had urged him to enter the room first.

‘..Could she be wrestling with some weighty matter?!’

Surely, that must be it.

She, after all, was one blessed to receive the Goddess’s divine guidance.

Perhaps even now, she was engaged in hushed communion with Her.

‘It’s undeniable, the way she doesn’t even spare a glance at those dishes she so adores.’

His suspicion solidified into conviction,

and he promptly arrived at a resolution.

‘Then I mustn’t, under any circumstances, disturb her.

I must simply do my utmost to keep anyone from approaching the Saintess.’

‘Why is that man even here?’

Of course, the reality was that she was merely lost in a completely different train of thought.

*

Meanwhile, as Tern was vigilantly surveying his surroundings for precisely that reason,

the Saintess’s mind, the very person he was sworn to protect,

was in a state of utter turmoil.

She’d encountered someone she never expected to see.

And at an imperial banquet, no less.

‘So…in other words…the banquet itself was held because of that man…?’

If what the Emperor said earlier was true,

then this, too, was fact.

The Emperor himself had thrown the banquet.

Solely to celebrate him.

The Imperial Family had personally extended their hand, inviting her.

All for his blessing.

Which meant, in other words, that he had forged a bond with the Imperial Family,

in a personal capacity…

‘When did this happen? No, more importantly…you’re a Saint…aren’t you?!’

Even if it was merely a title in name only,

he had undeniably received the title of Saint!

He must be aware that the Church and the Imperial Family had been

locked in a state of opposition for ages!

Hearing whispers of the Great Forest, how worried I’ve been, and you went to the Imperial Palace, oblivious…!

‘N-no, this isn’t right, um.’

“Saintess, are you feeling unwell?”

‘Um…I am a Saintess, after all, so even the news of people being hurt makes me worry.’

“Saintess?”

‘…Come to think of it, the Pope must have known? That’s why he brought me here…’

“Saintess…w-wait, just what are you?!”

‘Ugh… I don’t like either of you—’

“Huh?!”

In that instant, the Saintess’s arm

was yanked.

Just moments before,

there was no one there.

Normally, Tern would have noticed this and dealt with it beforehand, but

unfortunately, the current situation

couldn’t exactly be called normal.

“But is this really okay?

She’s still the Saintess, you know?!”

“It does not matter.”

No matter how excellent a Holy Knight,

they couldn’t possibly see through

a Charlotte family’s concealment at once.

“Saintess.”

“H-huh? Why are you here?”

“The last time, you said if I ever needed help,

I could ask you anytime, right?”

“Uh…? Ah, that’s… that’s true, but—”

“Please, help me.”

Anyone else would have

ignored him.

Perhaps even scolded him,

asking how dare he treat the Saintess like this.

But…

[If that child asks for help, I would like you to grant it…]

“Aish… seriously…!!”

“…?”

“Where are we going?!”

*

“Milady, please, at least have a bite… please?”

“..What am I even doing here?”

Aria, once again, ignored the pleading gaze of the maid offering her a meal.

She remained stubbornly burrowed

beneath the monstrously plush duvet.

A strange sense of self-reproach lingered.

‘I’m…now…’

“Milady…what troubles you?”

“….”

“Oh! Perhaps you feel unwell?”

“..No, it’s nothing.”

Just to reiterate,

she was exceedingly strict with herself.

Always planning,

and those plans, without fail, were executed.

Born into a ducal family, she believed she must bear the commensurate responsibilities.

Solely to shoulder those responsibilities,

she had cultivated herself with such relentless discipline.

She diligently studied the arcane arts in a place known as a lineage of knights.

She learned the paths of magic, manipulated mana,

and walked surrounded by every kind of grimoire.

‘..Aria, you are special.’

‘Me? You think so?’

‘Yes, if you continue to strive…perhaps one day you will surpass your father.’

‘Wow! Really?’

‘Indeed.’

Cherishing the man who was once her idol,

she continued endlessly striving.

To become a woman worthy of this name.

“Milady…please…”

“….”

“At this rate, you’ll surely perish…”

“Tell me…”

“..Yes?”

“What am I even doing here?”

“Pardon? Milady, what on earth are you saying…”

She had strived.

For her father,

for her family.

She was confident that her sheer volume of effort was second to none.

While others grasped swords,

She had once grasped books, unfurled her mana.

So, what of now?

The idol of her youth had crumbled to dust.

Beyond any hope of resurrection.

Worse, she’d learned the idol’s repugnant truth,

And the victims of that vileness were the family she’d so despised.

‘…’

“Young Mistress? Is something amiss…?”

“..I wish to leave.”

“..Forgive me, Young Mistress… His Grace, the Duke, has…”

Moreover, she was now trapped here, utterly, with no access to her magic.

Still echoing, the clink of this mana shackle on her wrist.

‘..Father must have provided it.

To secure anyone they brought.’

It was, in truth, self-evident.

Mere kidnappers could hardly possess such an item.

A mana shackle.

A device that, quite literally, bound one’s very mana; widely used during wartime.

By hindering the opponent’s mana control,

It could, simply by its application, completely nullify their power.

A useful tool not only for mages, but for almost anyone.

And thus, it was all the more impossible to easily acquire.

Its sale was forbidden, and even smuggling was nearly perfectly controlled.

Possession was, of course, possible, though even *that* was exceedingly rare.

Only those with a title of Marquis or higher,

Could possess it, with the Emperor’s permission.

Far too grand a thing for simple kidnappers to wield.

Naturally, there must be a source.

A source with considerable power.

“..And that source is our family, isn’t it?”

“Pardon? Young Mistress, is something troubling you again…”

“No.. Nothing.. Leave now.”

“Yes.. Yes, if you should desire a meal, please, summon me.”

“Very well..”

A request to leave was denied, yet a request for her departure was so diligently obeyed.

Today, that nameless maidservant

Seemed particularly vexing.

‘..No, what use is there in such thoughts? In the end, it’s all due to Father’s command.’

Again, she endlessly turns her head.

To gaze at the scenery beyond that blue, glass window.

For her, in this present state, this was all

she could do.

Simply passing the time like this,

awaiting the Duke’s punishment.

As if she had become a bird inside a cage.

“…Are you certain about this way?”

“No… this is because this mansion is uselessly large, not my fault!”

“Huck… a little slower…”

If someone were to take her

out of that cage,

then perhaps things would be different.

*

At the same time, in the training grounds of the Reinhardt mansion, someone was wielding a wooden sword.

All day long, incessantly.

Without tiring.

“Master Allen, I deeply apologize for interrupting your training, but…”

“…What is it? Speak.”

His words edged with frost, as if

he believed his training had been disturbed.

Allen Reinhardt’s mind was already in turmoil.

Because of her father, and

his younger sister, Aria.

“W-Well, that is…”

“If it’s something trivial, you’d best prepare yourself. Quickly.”

“Just now, there is a report that someone

seems to have entered the mansion.”

“…Where? Lead the way.”

And now, finally.

His wooden sword falls from his hand.

To punish the vermin who dared to

trespass in the Reinhardt household.

And to overcome this demon of the mind that continued to haunt him.