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Right after I finished my rather underwhelming complaint, which hardly warranted the grand title of “trouble,” I helped Lucia with her meal.

“Make sure to eat dinner. Discipline is one thing, but you also need to take care of your health.”

Since quite some time had passed, the gruel brought for dinner had grown cold. It was already tasteless food, and now it was cold too. I couldn’t bear to look at it.

This won’t do.

“Saint Lucia, please eat this.”

“What is this?”

“An apple. There’s some canned food too.”

I handed her the apple and canned food I had snatched from the kitchen. Lucia looked bewildered, as if caught off guard, and began asking where I got it.

“How did you bring this?”

“From the kitchen.”

Well, technically, I did swipe it. But I figured it counts since I did get it from the kitchen.

I omitted that part, and Lucia, not knowing the details, didn’t pry any further.

Instead,

“…….”

She offered a gentle smile, drawing a soft curve on her lips.

“Thank you for thinking of me.”

“What’s the big deal about this?”

I absentmindedly gazed out the window, and noticing the sun had already begun to set.

The sun was peeking shyly over the horizon, just about to dip below it, while the stars, densely packed under the bright moonlight, sparkled in the darkness of the night sky.

“Is it already this late?”

I stood up, eager to leave the room. Veronica had urged me to return before sunset, and I needed to have dinner myself, so it was time to head out.

However,

As with most things in life,

Things rarely go as expected.

-Swoosh.

A strange sensation enveloped my hand, and I looked down to see what was holding it.

A small, white hand.

It was Lucia’s hand.

“Saint Lucia?”

“…….”

I called out to Lucia in a low voice, but received no reply. She appeared to be oddly contemplative, gazing down at the floor, seemingly lost in thought.

“Um…”

“Yes. Do you have something to say…?”

“Healing.”

Lucia said.

“Well, would you consider getting treated today?”

*

**Episode 12 – The Strongest Magician**

When the word “healing” slipped from Lucia’s lips, instead of its literal definition, I recalled something else entirely.

“When you say ‘healing’… are you referring to that treatment from last time?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

What first came to mind was the unfamiliar scenery of the room. Thanks to the Inquisition Officers, I had been transferred to the cathedral, barely clinging to life. I had bled profusely from my wounds, so I was completely unconscious.

I only regained consciousness in the cathedral, and the first thing that met my eyes was—

The saint, naked, lying next to me, looking at me.

At that moment, I hadn’t realized it, but looking back now, it was an incredibly awkward situation. Did I really pull that stunt? I had no idea how much chaos it would cause in the Inspection Office if they found out.

Fortunately, nothing particularly worrying happened.

“I can’t say there haven’t been any healing results so far… but you’re still not fully recovered.”

As I reminisced about a few days ago, Lucia cautiously probed me.

“It’s not good to delay treatment. So, if you’re okay with it, I think it would be best for you to get treated today…”

“…….”

“How about it…?”

She keenly observed my reaction with furtive glances.

Her small, white hands were neatly perched on her knees. Sitting in a modest posture as if in prayer, she fixed her gaze on the ground.

At a glance, she looked a bit dispirited, which appeared normal, but her anxious side-eye glances and the fidgeting of her fingers on her thighs surely seemed out of place.

Restless, perhaps. Anxious, for sure.

Yet one thing was certain:

I had never seen this expression on Lucia’s face before.

*

Well, since I was here, why not get treated?

It wasn’t a bad suggestion, but a few concerns lingered in my mind.

“The knights escorting you, Saint Lucia, will come to check on your safety. Won’t it be a bit inconvenient if they find me here?”

“Don’t worry. The cathedral is the safest place in the Northern Regions. And since I’m under house arrest, the knights shouldn’t come looking for me unless there’s a special reason.”

Lucia assured me that both the knights and other priests or monks wouldn’t come by, explaining that according to the cult’s laws, visiting someone in a state of house arrest or retreat is considered taboo. I peppered her with questions about whether anyone else would come, if I was causing trouble, whether we had the necessary healing tools, among others.

Some might see my questions as impertinent, but Lucia didn’t mind. She answered me with patient explanations, assuring me that there was no reason for concern.

“I’m not sure if it’s right for me to stay here, given that you’re in house arrest.”

“It’s fine. There’s nothing more important than saving a life. I’m sure everyone will understand.”

“…….”

Lucia spoke as if there was truly no issue, but a fundamental concern still lingered.

“Saint Lucia.”

“Yes?”

“But have you obtained permission for this?”

Permission.

The moment those words spilled out, Lucia’s expression subtly changed.

Her face stiffened. A momentary pause in her breath. Unlike her usual self, devoid of any hint of hesitation, Lucia found it difficult to open her mouth.

No, it wasn’t that she couldn’t open it; she actually couldn’t.

Because what Lucia was doing right now wasn’t in accordance with any permission she had received.

“I recall a story that Saint Veronica shared with me once. It was about the healing arts, passed down only among the healing priests.”

There exists a healing art that is transmitted among the cult’s healing priests.

The healing priest sleeps in the same space with the patient.

This method has its roots in a biblical anecdote, hence carries a certain theological significance, and is known to be unexpectedly effective, often used in critical situations.

However, due to its somewhat embarrassing nature for others to know, it has been passed down secretly through oral tradition.

While its effects are beneficial, due to the many issues associated with it, the cult has established several procedures for the priests attempting to use this healing art. One could say these are a sort of safety mechanism.

“As far as I know, using that method requires consent from the patient, the bishop of the diocese, the National Affairs Council, and the priest themselves.”

“……”

“Saint Veronica didn’t even know who treated me.”

To use the healing art, one must obtain prior permission based on strict regulations.

If Lucia had gone through those procedures for my sake, Veronica would certainly have been aware of it.

She would have rushed in, not just questioning my sister about what on earth she did, but probably even pulled my hair out, regardless of who was around. On the surface, she may have grumbled a bit, but she truly cared for Lucia.

Yet, Veronica was completely unaware of who treated me. She only guessed that Lucia might have attempted something after examining my condition.

In other words,

“You didn’t receive permission, did you?”

“……”

This meant that Lucia hadn’t received any permission whatsoever from the very start.

There was no need to await her answer.

She couldn’t meet my gaze as she hung her head low.

“I didn’t have the luxury to ask for permission then… It was an urgent situation.”

“……”

“If I’ve caused you any trouble, I genuinely apologize. I will take full responsibility to resolve it….”

“No, there’s no need for that.”

I waved my hand towards Lucia, who was offering her apologies. I was on the verge of passing out, and asking for permission was the least of my worries.

I had no idea what the repercussions for breaking the rules might be, but if this information leaked, it would significantly complicate Lucia’s situation. It would be absurd to question why she broke the regulations just to save my life.

“Just let me know if a problem arises later on. That’s all I need.”

“…Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

“I’m an ambassador. They can’t punish me even if I break the law, so regulations are no big deal.”

I was about to leave the room when I sat back down on the bed.

The sun had completely set, leaving just a crimson edge to the horizon.

Suddenly, Lucia’s fingertip brushed against mine.

Her hair, slightly covering her face due to her shy posture, revealed her sparkling blue eyes in the darkness.

“…Um.”

The rest of her words trailed off.

Guessing what she wanted to say, I silently held Lucia’s hand firmly. She lowered her head even further, maintaining her quiet silence.

“……”

After some time had passed, Lucia slowly lifted her head, gently pushing her hair back and opened her mouth.

“Then I’ll prepare.”

She met my gaze briefly, took a small breath, and then stood up.

Soon, the sound of buttons being undone filled the air.

As Lucia carefully unbuttoned her dress, the pure white fabric slipped down her shoulders.

When some of her neck, shoulders, and back were revealed, Lucia suddenly turned around and whispered softly.

“I know this is a strange time to ask, but… can you keep what happened today a secret?”

I didn’t respond. Lucia didn’t press for an answer either.

In truth, it didn’t seem necessary to answer at all.

*

The dining hall of the Cathedral of Saint Basil.

Once the priests and monks finished their evening meal and exited, a flurry of activity ensued. The monks worked tirelessly, washing an enormous amount of dishes and cooking tools, striving to maintain cleanliness and hygiene.

“Are you talking about the Colonel?”

One of the inquisitors tilted his head in response while arranging the dishes.

“He did come to the kitchen earlier. He said he would personally bring dinner for Saint Lucia.”

“When did he come?”

“Since the dinner preparation was at its peak… I can’t say the exact time, but he visited before the priests, the inquisitors, and the nuns had their dinner.”

“Oh, I see.”

Veronica nodded.

“I thought I had forgotten, but it seems I can still trust you.”

 

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