Arc-6 Ch-16

The sound of rustling papers, the clacking of an abacus, the scratch of pens, the thud of stamps.

The office echoed with a symphony of orderly noises. Back when I was a viscount’s daughter, things like orchestral music or opera were a world away. Now, I could listen to hymns all day—a saintess’s life, go figure. Life’s full of surprises.

But the work I was doing right now? Mind-numbingly dull.

I don’t hate studying. Compared to my underprivileged girlhood, I can devour textbooks to my heart’s content and use as many notebooks and pencils as I want.

That said, I feel bad taking endless supplies, so I stick to the bare minimum. Anything extra comes out of my own salary.

Working with a boss I respect and colleagues I get along with, three meals a day, and even my own room. What is this place? Heaven?

So yeah, I’m pretty content right now. My family was infuriating, but if I think of it as a trial to serve Lady Olivia, I can sorta accept it. Freed from worldly shackles, what’s my problem right now?

The mountain of documents staring me down.

Summarize the expense details on the forms, compare them to the submitted financial reports, double- and triple-check for discrepancies.

Documents without errors get bundled and placed on Lady Olivia’s desk. Ones with issues go back for rechecking.

I’ve been at this since morning—no, for days.

Last night, numbers haunted my dreams.

Calculate, calculate, calculate. Cross-check, cross-check, cross-check.

I glanced at the head of the office. Lady Olivia was stamping documents while scrutinizing them. It felt like she could process them faster alone than Carla and I combined.

My head throbbed, and I slumped onto the desk. A few sheets fluttered to the floor. Honestly, picking them up felt like too much effort.

The clock said about an hour until lunch—the toughest time of day.

“Marie, you okay?”

Carla picked up the fallen papers and handed them to me. My head was heavy, and I was starving, but Carla’s eyes were sunken with fatigue too. Feeling suffocated, I stretched in my chair. My joints cracked all over. Just looking at the documents gave me a headache. I didn’t want to see another number.

“Uggghhhh! How long is this gonna go on?!”

My groan echoed through the room, and Lady Olivia’s hand paused. I felt bad stopping her work, but my sanity was hanging by a thread.

“Just a little longer. Let’s keep going.”

“Can’t we get someone else, Lady Olivia? The three of us are at our limit.”

“I’ve explained this before—it’s not possible. This is technically confidential information.”

“I’m happy you trust us, Lady Olivia. But isn’t this 'not' a saintess’s job?”

“The other priestesses are mostly noble daughters. We can’t rule out the possibility of them leaking information to their families.”

“Carla and I are noble daughters too, aren’t we?”

“'Former' noble daughters. I’ve been disowned by my family, and Marie’s family is… well…”

“No need to hold back. I don’t consider those people my family.”

“Many commoner women who admire Lady Olivia have gathered, but when it comes to entrusting them with clerical work…”

“Most of them can barely read, write, or do math, right? Their enthusiasm is appreciated, though.”

Lady Olivia, who saved the Holfort Kingdom not once but twice, is treated like a hero.

Add to that the unprecedented case of a commoner-born saintess, and even the temple seems unsure how to handle her.

Girls dreaming of becoming like Lady Olivia have flooded the temple’s gates, but those starry-eyed types are rejected and sent back home.

Popularity isn’t all good—it comes with just as many downsides.

“The old high priest is scheming behind the scenes, which is why all this extra work is dumped on us. This is definitely harassment.”

“But this is a golden opportunity to expose the high priest’s misdeeds. There’s no doubt he’s embezzling or diverting the funds and supplies collected by the temple.”

“A percentage of the priestesses are involved too. Even after the war, many noble daughters and commoner girls are struggling with family finances or poverty. They’re probably getting a cut for participating in or turning a blind eye to the crimes.”

“Well, I was saved by the temple too, so I don’t want to badmouth it. But isn’t this a bit 'too' much?”

“It’s the aftermath of losing so many lives in the war. Replenishing the temple knights is an urgent issue.”

“Even so, hiring people with shady backgrounds or bad behavior is pointless.”

“If you say that, we’re not exactly in a position to judge others…”

Carla’s apologetic words stung.

Me, Carla, Kyle, and Lady Olivia’s inner circle—all of us have questionable backgrounds.

A former viscount’s daughter whose family was destroyed for colluding with the Principality of Fanoss.

A baronette’s daughter exiled from her family for complicity in crimes.

A half-elf who became an exclusive servant to support his mother after facing discrimination in his homeland. By background alone, none of us are fit to serve a saintess. What binds us is the personal debt we owe Lady Olivia for saving us and our desire to repay her.

“Too many noble sons and men aspiring to be temple knights are just chasing trends. To adventurers, temple knights probably look like an easier gig. I weed out those types first.”

“Marie, you picked a fight with the temple knight guard unit again the other day, didn’t you? That was overkill.”

“I was just disciplining the creeps ogling Lady Olivia. Besides, a temple knight weaker than me guarding the saintess? Laughable.”

Just because someone’s in the temple doesn’t mean they’re pure. The higher you climb, the more you have to swallow both good and evil.

But that’s only acceptable if it’s for a greater cause, not for personal lust toward one’s lord. I can’t trust such people as guards.

I wish they’d at least restrain themselves like Kyle.

Carla and I know he secretly admires Lady Olivia, who hired him. She’s oblivious to men’s feelings, though.

But because he works for her without letting personal feelings interfere, I trust him enough to let him be her attendant.

'Knock, knock, knock.'

“Come in~”

When I responded to the knock, Kyle entered.

The moment I saw the stack of documents he was carrying, a groan slipped out.

“Ugh…”

“Don’t make unladylike noises. And stop glaring at me.”

“Can’t you take those back?”

“No way. Also, Lady Olivia has a visitor.”

“For me?”

“I’m turning away unscheduled visitors. Can you ask them to leave?”

“It’s a messenger from the palace, so that’s probably impossible. And they know us.”

“Then there’s no helping it.”

“I’ll go too!”

“Marie, you just don’t want to do the paperwork, do you?”

Shut up, Kyle. Escorting Lady Olivia is my job as her head lady-in-waiting. It’s not like I’m running away because more paperwork would make my head explode. Definitely not. Really. Probably. Hopefully.

Kyle sighed, reading my true feelings.

“I’ll take the documents. Marie, hurry and accompany Lady Olivia.”

“Thanks, Kyle! I’ll share one of my lunch side dishes as thanks.”

“No thanks. Your ‘gifts’ are usually burnt meat scraps or bony fish.”

“Picky eaters don’t grow tall.”

“Just go. Keeping them waiting is rude.”

Urged on, Lady Olivia and I left the office.

Stretching loosened my stiff muscles, and my joints cracked. Desk work strains the eyes, shoulders, and lower back. My brain was fried, and my head felt heavy.

And I was starving—so hungry I was dizzy.

Back home, I ate my parents’ and siblings’ leftovers. In the capital, it was restaurant scraps or cats and rats. My stomach’s a gluttonous monster. A little hunger, and it growled like a dungeon beast. I didn’t know who the palace messenger was, but what if the meeting dragged on?

If my performance as an attendant suffered, it would reflect badly on Lady Olivia. Maybe escaping the paperwork was a mistake?

I prayed to the gods that it would end by lunch break.

※ ※ ※ ※ ※

The temple headquarters in the capital, while not as vast as the palace, boasted expansive grounds with various facilities.

Dormitories for the saintess and priests, training grounds for temple knights, and a grand cathedral for offering prayers to the gods.

Adjacent to the cathedral was an art gallery displaying paintings and sculptures of gods and saintesses. The palace similarly lined its offices and corridors with portraits and busts of past kings.

Such art served as symbols of authority, a common tactic for those in power to flaunt divinity or royal legitimacy. Or perhaps it hinted that authority, without constant assertion, could easily be overturned by force?

Positions gained through power could be taken by greater power. Thus, both the royal family and the temple had to continually proclaim their legitimacy. The Founding Ancestors who exiled Leah Bartfort and the temple that lost the first saintess were equally guilty.

In one corner of the art gallery, forgotten like an afterthought, hung an old, weathered portrait.

The woman depicted had a sour expression and looked anything but a priestess serving the temple. She bore no resemblance to Olivia, who was supposedly her descendant.

If anything, I looked more like Anne’s descendant. Tracing bloodlines, Anne and I were distant relatives. This portrait alone barely conveyed Anne’s true character to posterity. The reason this crude, deified painting was displayed here was simple: its artist was the only one who had seen Anne in life to depicted her accurately.

The first saintess, Anne—what feelings drove her to oppose the Founding Ancestors and vanish?

Anger? Sorrow? Or love?

The portrait’s Anne offered no answers, silently preserving the shadow of her past self.

Having seen what I wanted, I left the gallery and, guided by a priestess, headed to the grand cathedral. A reception room would have sufficed, but I chose the cathedral for more than just seeing the first saintess’s portrait. Being alone with Olivia in a sealed room felt awkward and intimidating.

Only a few days had passed since the prime minister revealed the truth of the Holfort Kingdom’s founding. I’d sorted my feelings to some extent, but I couldn’t fully accept everything. At the same time, an unshakable distrust toward the temple was building within me. In places with watchful eyes, information could leak. Especially since my father, plotting my brother’s marriage to the saintess, must have his hands in the temple’s affairs. In the grand cathedral, with people around, I could detect surveillance. Choosing the right time could reduce the number further.

I wanted to make the most of this opportunity, arranged through Mylene-sama, to meet Olivia. Sitting on one of the long pews in the grand cathedral, waiting a while, the bell’s toll echoed off the walls, marking the hour.

On the pew beside me were my handbag and a carefully wrapped box from a famous confectionery in the capital.

As I gazed absentmindedly at the cathedral’s magnificent stained glass, approaching footsteps prompted me to stand and straighten my posture.

Olivia strode in confidently, with Marie likely at her side. In any case, here, I was the one who should show deference. I slowly straightened my back and bowed.

“Welcome. On behalf of the temple, Saintess Olivia expresses her heartfelt gratitude.”

“I am Angelica Fou Bartfort. Today, I come as an envoy of Her Highness Mylene Rapha Holfort from the palace. I am relieved to see Saintess Olivia in good spirits and health.”

We exchanged courtesies while scanning our surroundings. One priestess at the staff entrance, two temple knights guarding the cathedral’s main door. Both were far enough that our voices wouldn’t carry. It would be wiser to keep greetings brief, hand over the purpose of my visit, and leave.

“I wished to once again convey gratitude for Saintess Olivia’s efforts at the recent memorial ceremony in the Bartfort territory. Knowing it was an imposition, I asked Her Highness to appoint me as envoy.”

“Your gracious thanks, Lady Angelica, are deeply appreciated.”

After politely thanking me, Olivia gestured to the pew. Following her lead, I sat. Olivia joined me, while her attendant Marie remained standing nearby.

“So, what brings you here today?”

Olivia’s sudden, casual question was just like her. No, perhaps she was even more cheerful than before. Or maybe it was because I was physically and mentally exhausted—her brightness was quite healing right now.

“Your belly has grown quite large. Is the birth soon?”

“Yes, less than a month until the due date. Once the baby’s born, I’ll be confined to the estate for a while. Before that, I wanted to talk a bit.”

“Please don’t push yourself. If you’d contacted me, I would have visited.”

“I couldn’t summon the saintess as a mere frontier viscountess. Today is just a simple report and some chit-chat.”

“A report?”

“First, a gift. Please accept it.”

I handed over the confectionery box, which Marie hesitantly accepted. The moment she saw the shop’s emblem printed on it, her eyes sparkled. 

“T-This is from that famous capital shop?! The one where even reservations are hard to get?!”

“It’s a gift from Her Highness and the Chancellor. Nothing suspicious inside.”

“Can I open it?!”

“Go ahead, do as you like.”

“Then—!”

As Marie opened the box, a sweet aroma filled the air. Inside were special pies lavishly made with various seasonal fruits. The candied fruits scattered on the surface gleamed, reminiscent of jewels in a ring or necklace box.

“Lady Olivia! Let’s gratefully accept this!”

“Have some manners, Marie. For now, let’s take it and enjoy it as a snack.”

“Wait! I don’t doubt Lady Angelica, but we should test for poison first!”

“It’s a thoughtful gift. Enjoy it without worry.”

“Here I go~!”

As Marie quickly said a pre-meal prayer and took a bite of pie, I continued my conversation with Olivia.

“Leon has nearly completed the groundwork to persuade my father. He’ll visit the ducal house two days after arriving in the capital.”

“We’re finally at the final stage.”

“Let me confirm one last time: I’m not optimistic about the meeting with my father going smoothly. The success rate is maybe fifty percent at best.”

“That’s fine. I can’t thank you enough for your cooperation, Lady Angelica.”

Honestly, even that felt overly optimistic. No matter how much we strategized or sought allies, we might not stop the conflict between the royal family and the ducal house. In the worst case, my father could steal the reform plan, and the royal family’s strife could continue. Even so, getting this far was simply my concern for the kingdom’s future.

“No need for thanks. I came to the temple because I had something to ask you.”

“If I can answer it…”

“…Hypothetically, if your ancestor was an incredibly great person, what would you do? Would you want to use that to achieve something?”

The ancestor of Saintess Olivia was the first saintess, Anne. People couldn’t help but feel something fateful about that fact. The temple’s shift from hereditary to appointed saintesses was solely the upper echelons’ decision, not what Anne’s descendants wanted.

In the current Holfort Kingdom, “descendant of the saintess” meant those of the second saintess, Mary. The descendants of the first saintess, Anne, lived unaware of their lineage, exploited by the temple.

If Olivia were publicly revealed as Anne’s descendant, it was impossible to predict what people would think or how they’d react.

That worry wouldn’t leave my mind, driving me to visit the temple.

“I wouldn’t.”

Whether she sensed my thoughts or decided with firm conviction, Olivia answered without hesitation.

“The ancestors I acknowledge are just my parents and grandparents. Some great ancestor I’ve never seen or heard of has nothing to do with what I’ve done.”

“Even if you think that, others might not see it that way.”

“My power is indeed something inherited from my ancestors. But that alone didn’t get me this far.”

A strong light emanated from Olivia’s palm, gradually fading. There weren’t many masters of such powerful healing magic. Olivia, with her strength and numerous achievements, was undoubtedly a figure who would leave her name in history.

“My ancestor might be the first saintess. But that alone doesn’t make someone a saintess. The teacher who taught me so much back home, the instructors at the academy, His Highness Julius and everyone else, the nobles and temple knights working to protect this country—they’re why I could keep going.”

“…Did you know about your lineage?”

“When I activated the royal family’s airship, His Majesty Roland hinted at it.”

“That man—it’s never clear if he’s friend or foe.”

Is casually leaking important information a Holfort royal family trait?

Or should I interpret it as His Majesty feeling some atonement toward Leon’s ancestor Leah or Olivia’s ancestor Anne?

Either way, perhaps I should tell Olivia everything I know here.

“What do you know about the first saintess, Anne?”

“Not much. Detailed records about her are rare even in the temple.”

“The temple’s upper echelons are deliberately concealing information. To exploit Anne’s descendants as it suits them.”

After quickly explaining to Olivia, I acted nonchalant. Only the priestess and temple knights were watching us from afar, but caution was necessary. Olivia’s eyes widened in surprise. Marie’s mouth, full of pie, stopped moving.

I took the confectionery box from Marie and flipped the thick paper lining the bottom. Hidden beneath was an envelope containing documents with the information I knew.

Olivia and Marie exchanged glances, then continued our conversation as if nothing had happened.

“Where did you get that information?”

“I heard it from the Chancellor a few days ago. It seems my father and the temple plan to use your abilities and lineage. I’ve written down the current state of my reform proposal and everything I know about Saintess Anne. What you do with it is up to you.”

“So that was the purpose of this meeting.”

“Considering my condition and the political situation, this was the only opportunity. Sorry for the sudden visit.”

“It’s fine. Thank you.”

I’d conveyed what needed to be said. How Olivia handled this information was her decision.

You can’t govern people with purity alone.

But deceiving others turns into a blade that comes back to you when the truth is revealed.

My father and the temple were underestimating Olivia far too much. A mere dreamy girl couldn’t protect a nation with pretty ideals alone.

She had resolve and intellect that set her apart from other women. She wasn’t someone easily manipulated through information control.

“It seems the temple’s priority in protecting healing magic users was part of searching for Anne’s descendants. Marie, you might be one of Anne’s descendants too.”

“No waaay?!”

“Does that mean Marie and I are distant relatives?”

“Yeah. Who knows, maybe after Olivia, Marie will be chosen as the next saintess.”

“That might actually work.”

“What do you think, Marie? The saintess herself is nominating you as her successor.”

“I-I can’t be a saintess! Absolutely not!”

“Let’s swallow before answering, okay?”

Marie rapidly chewed and swallowed the pie in her mouth, then licked the oil and sugar off her fingertips. She looked like a young girl, but her gestures were far from those of a former noblewoman our age.

“Don’t say ridiculous things. I’m not cut out to be a saintess.”

“I thought you might actually do well, but no?”

“The saintess should be someone Lady Olivia properly trains as a successor. Bloodline to the first saintess doesn’t matter.”

“None of the previous saintesses had the first saintess’s bloodline either.”

“Fundamentally, thinking someone’s great just because they’re Anne’s descendant is dangerous.”

Marie sat on the pew and crossed her legs. Her gesture carried a sharp, street-cat-like wariness.

She exuded an aura more suited to leading rough adventurers than being a saintess.

“I don’t know which of the Rafan family are Anne’s descendants. What I do know is my father was the worst kind of noble, my mother the worst kind of parent. My brother and sister inherited their garbage blood. I was abused and unloved by my parents and siblings. If scum like them are revered just because they might be the saintess’s bloodline, the world’s rotten.”

“A parent’s sins aren’t the child’s.”

“I’ve done plenty of dirty things myself, suffering from poverty and hunger. If Lady Olivia hadn’t saved me, I’d have died in an alley.”

“But you’ve worked to atone for your sins.”

“Lady Angelica, just as many people assume a child is great because their parent was, plenty assume a child is evil if their parent was. Nobles especially strut around basking in their ancestors’ glory.”

Marie’s words were harsh but undeniable.

The very system of noble inheritance rested on the fantasy that the descendants of the excellent would also be excellent.

Whether the royal family, lording over others through ancestral prestige, losing legitimacy due to their ancestors’ sins was karma or an inevitable shift in the times was unclear.

The royal family’s legitimacy could be left to future historians. What we needed to do now was prevent civil war from devastating the country and giving foreign powers an opening.

“…There’s something else I want to ask you two.”

“What is it?”

“It’s about… my husband. What do you think of him?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Well, I was wondering if maybe you’re interested in him as a man.”

“…”

“…”

An awkward silence hung between us, prickling my skin. Above all, Olivia and Marie’s puzzled expressions made me question my own sanity.

“…What do you think, Lady Olivia?”

“Hmm? Did something happen with Viscount Bartfort?”

“She must think we’re pining after him. We haven’t had time for that these past few months.”

“Lady Angelica must be anxious. I’ve heard pregnancy can make people emotionally unstable.”

“Of all people to suspect, us? Sure, Viscount Bartfort is a rising star among the kingdom’s young nobles, but…”

The two leaned close, glancing at me as they talked. Was their volume intentionally loud enough for me to hear?

“Honestly, what do you think of Viscount Bartfort as a man? Rumor says he’s pretty stubborn.”

“I think he’s a good person. He was really kind when we met before.”

“Ehh? I’m not a fan. He had this mean look on his face.”

“Why did Lady Angelica even ask us this?”

“She must think Viscount Bartfort is cheating.”

“I’ve heard some noblewomen, rather than risk their husband cheating during or after pregnancy, allow a mistress they approve of.”

“No way Lady Angelica seems the type to allow a concubine.”

“Then maybe she wanted to flaunt how happy her marriage is to us single girls.”

“Ugh, that’s the worst!”

“You two have been saying whatever you want for a while now.”

I’ve been agonizing over the contents of my nightmares. On top of that, I learned from the prime minister the unwanted tidbit that Leah and Anne might have been lovers.

You two, who know nothing, can’t understand how much I’ve worried.

“…I heard Leon’s ancestor had a deep connection with the first saintess Anne. I had a passing thought that you two might be more suitable as Leon’s wife than me, married for political reasons.”

““Absolutely not.”””

Instant response. They answered with lightning speed. At least hesitate a little. I must look ridiculous for worrying.

“You two flaunt your lovey-dovey act in public—there’s no way.”

“Don’t be harsh. Lady Angelica was worried, so choose your words carefully.”

“No, seriously, it’s impossible. She’s definitely bragging.”

“Have I done something to make Lady Angelica hate me?”

“Most women wouldn’t have good feelings toward the woman who stole their fiance.”

“I have nothing with His Highness Julius! I don’t see the other four as men either!”

“That’s a problem in itself! You’re not a saintess—you’re a villainess!”

Eventually, Olivia and Marie started arguing. What is this scene?

It was getting out of hand, so I’d wait until they calmed down. I helped myself to a slice of pie from the box. The fresh fruit, encased in candy yet retaining its vibrancy, paired with the crisp, satisfying crunch of the pastry crust. The two stopped arguing only after the bell tolled again to mark the hour.

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Authors Note

┻━⁠━━━━⁠━━⁠━━━⁠┻

A long-awaited appearance by the saintess and her crew. Marie is a valuable comedy relief character, so she’s easy to work with.  

In some routes, these two become Leon’s lovers, but in this route, their connection is thin—just acquaintances.  

Next chapter will be from Olivia’s perspective, with other original characters making a long-awaited appearance.

Postscript: At the client’s request, illustrations were provided by Doi Nawa-sama and DanZr-sama. Thank you very much!  

Doi Nawa-sama: Skeb  

DanZr-sama: Pixiv (Spoiler warning)

I’d be encouraged to hear your thoughts and feedback for future motivation.