The Fierce Saintess

side story 1

Treat me to a Ko-Fi to give me more motivation!!!

*****

Guided by Kennard Adkins, Commander of the Second Knight Order, they descended into the musty underground, passing through two doors before reaching the spot where the men were held.

The Duke of Arkwright and his illegitimate son. Seated on their cots in identical postures inside adjacent cells, even in the eyes of Marquess Blacker, the two undeniably resembled each other.

(These two...) Thinking this, the Marquess was seized by an urge to settle things with his own hands right then and there, but he suppressed the impulse, reminding himself that being judged in a public court and executed would be far more humiliating for the man.

Yet for some reason, the man inside the cell showed a look of relief and stepped closer to the bars.

「Oh, Darnell. You came for me. Forgive me for jumping straight to the point, but this place is hardly suitable for me...」

(Does this bastard think I know nothing?!)

A renewed urge to kill surged within him toward the man speaking to him so familiarly. He managed to suppress the physical violence, but could not restrain his words. He slapped away the hand reaching out from between the iron bars.

「Do not call me by my name, you traitor! This is all your fault! Because of you, Trisha and Alton are... and even His Majesty!」

「Hey, Darnell. Surely you are misunderstanding something? While I certainly feel pity regarding the Royal Concubine and the Second Prince, that had nothing to do with me—」

「Then whose doing was it?」

「That is... Ah, damn it! But regarding that matter, I truly had no involvement!」

From the Duke of Arkwright's perspective, the deaths of His Majesty and the Royal Concubine were entirely the Saintess's doing and had nothing to do with him. Therefore, he had never expected to be blamed for it by Marquess Blacker.

However, since he had signed a magical covenant requiring strict confidentiality regarding what transpired during the summoning, he was unable to speak of it aloud. Thus, he had no choice but to be vague and offer what sounded like flimsy excuses.

To the Marquess, however, such an attitude only appeared as a pathetic attempt to gloss over the truth.

「Do you mean to say you bear no responsibility simply because you did not lay a hand on them directly? I have already heard that you were in league with the Empire. I know about the curse jar as well! And yet you dare play innocent!」

On his way here, the Marquess had asked the Commander of the Second Knight Order to share whatever facts he could within permissible bounds, extracting several pieces of information. This included a small portion of the details regarding the secret pact between the Duke and the Empire.

「To think you intended to turn our kingdom into a vassal state of that despicable nation! Did you covet the throne so desperately?! I feel utterly pathetic for having considered a monster like you a friend for all these years!」

「But you said it yourself in the past! That compared to such a mediocre king, I would be far better suited—」

「Silence, shut your mouth! His Majesty may have been mediocre, but he still cherished my daughter! Furthermore, unlike you, he never inflicted catastrophic damage upon the realm and its people! And that is not all. Do you have any idea how many citizens, how many soldiers of our kingdom have died because of you?!」

「That is... But sacrifice is an inevitable part of reform...」

「What 'reform'?! That was sheer slaughter! Then tell me this—why are your wife and daughter still alive right now? And why is it said that the Duke's domain suffered almost no damage from miasma pools?! Yet you dare call it 'sacrifice for reform'?! Do not mock me!」

Marquess Blacker had personally visited his own territory multiple times to inspect the destruction caused by magic beasts, witnessing the horrors firsthand. He could not forgive such suffering being dismissed lightly as 'sacrifices for reform'.

As the Marquess finished his impassioned rant, the man in the adjacent cell entered his field of vision. Startled by the fury displayed before him, the man wore a somewhat frightened expression; however, the Marquess had heard earlier that this man was the primary culprit involved with the curse jar.

「The Royal Council will convene shortly. There, the fate of you and your conspirators will be decided. I shall push for execution by hanging, so prepare yourselves.」

As he spoke, he directed a glare intense enough to kill toward the men in the two cells.

「I look forward to the day of your execution. I shall watch from the very front row!」

Leaving them with those parting words, he departed the dungeon. His next destination was the Royal Mausoleum. On the way, the Marquess asked the Commander of the Second Knight Order the question that had been weighing on his mind.

「Commander Adkins. Where is the Saintess now, and what is she doing?」

Unprepared for such a question, the Commander of the Second Knight Order hesitated briefly before replying.

「Her Highness the Saintess returned yesterday from her purification journey, but she remained occupied dealing with the incident inside the castle and the curse jar. Thus, she is resting at present.」

「I see...」

(His Holiness was present at the scene as well...)

The facts and details he had seen and heard assembled themselves within the Marquess's mind, interwoven with a somewhat convenient interpretation. The conclusion he arrived at was that 'perhaps everyone had done their absolute best.'

That the Saintess, the Pope, the Chancellor—everyone—had done everything in their power to save the three lives. He had to believe that, for otherwise he felt he could not bear what he was about to see.

(It looks as though the three of them—father, mother, and child—are sleeping peacefully together.)

Lying in a coffin within the freezing mausoleum, his daughter bore small wrinkles around the corners of her eyes due to her age, yet her features remained as lovely as they had been in her youth.

「Ice magic has been cast over them until the funeral. If you stand too close, you risk suffering frostbite.」

Though the guard soldier had warned him earlier, the Marquess could not resist gently touching his daughter's cheek. The hard, freezing sensation brought the harsh reality crashing down upon him.

Clutching his chest, which ached as if crushed, he blinked repeatedly while shaking his head slightly. Again and again. Yet no matter how many times he blinked, he could not stop the tears from spilling over.

She was a bit airheaded at times, but that only made her a charming daughter. Since he already had an eldest son as heir, he thought that even if she wasn't particularly fond of studying, her sweet nature would make it easy to arrange a wonderful marriage for her. Yet, at the celebration of His Highness's sixteenth birthday, she fell in love with him. She was only twelve years old back then.

(I never imagined she would resent me for not pushing her to study harder...)

'I heard Lady Shaira speaks four languages! She has deep artistic appreciation for paintings and even paints herself. What's more, she guessed every single sample correctly at the recent tea-tasting gathering!'

He let out a dry, wry smile as he recalled the sight of his daughter locked in her room, weeping as she hurled pillows and cushions about.

For Trisha fell far short of the standards demanded by the late king, who favored surrounding himself exclusively with the exceptionally brilliant.

Yet she had not given up. Clinging to a sliver of hope that he might eventually take a royal concubine, she flatly rejected every marriage proposal brought to her and threw herself frantically into various studies, late starter though she was. Slowly, bit by bit, she acquired knowledge and refined her etiquette.

Later, after the First Prince was born, rumors began circulating that political rivals of the Margraviate family were scheming to introduce a royal concubine while the Queen was preoccupied with foreign affairs. It was then that his daughter stepped forward, declaring, 'Then let it be me.'

She petitioned the late king, promising that she would never become a nuisance to Lady Shaira nor oppose her. Never expecting her to take such bold action, he had panicked at the time, but out of doting love for his child, the matter was settled by providing a massive dowry and signing numerous magical covenants.

Though some terms were somewhat undesirable, none of that mattered.

For on the day she became a bride, his daughter's face had beamed with unadulterated joy. Curiously, he heard later that Lady Shaira had raised little opposition to her entry.

However, some time after Alton was born, unpleasant rumors began reaching his ears—alleging that the Queen was harassing Trisha.

When he asked her out of concern, she merely laughed it off and insisted nothing was wrong, but he had assumed she was simply forcing a smile to spare him worry.

Looking back now, even those rumors were likely part of the Duke's scheme. The man had probably put on a friendly facade while continuously dripping the poison of suspicion between them.

And my own behavior, thoroughly poisoned as it was, eventually came to influence my grandson Alton. Before anyone knew it, he had grown into a cynical young man given to biting sarcasm—despite having originally been an honest, bright child. It was entirely my responsibility for failing to see through that man's true nature.

My wife had told me how Trisha happily confided in her, saying, 'In truth, His Majesty visits my quarters far more often than he goes to the Queen's chambers.' I should have believed those words and shared in her happiness.

Instead, I spent all my time doubting, terrified that the Queen might plot against her out of jealousy. Now I understand that such a wise woman would never do anything out of petty envy. My vision had simply been clouded by my overwhelming love for my daughter.

Most likely, on the night the Saintess summoning succeeded, His Majesty had visited my daughter's bedchambers as well. That was why both of them were stricken by the curse...

If so, then perhaps in a sense, my daughter was happy. He chose to think of it that way—that she had departed alongside the man she loved above all others and her precious child. If he did not think so, the pain would be unbearable.

Was she happy...? Though there was no answer to his silent question, the image of his daughter's beaming face on her wedding day rose in his mind instead, alongside the memory of Alton's tiny hand when he had held him for the first time.

And thus, within the Marquess's mind, a single tale began to take shape...

A short while later, the tragedy came to be sung as a bardic ballad throughout the royal capital. It was a story of love between a king and his royal concubine who lost their lives to a villainous duke's plot, and of the prince who cherished them both deeply.

The title of the song was 'Little Pretty'. It was the name of a rose that King James IV himself had presented to his bride when her marriage as royal concubine was finalized—a medium-sized, charming rose with a soft fragrance and orange rosette blooms.

And on the day of the funeral, the temple and its surroundings overflowed with 'Little Pretty' roses prepared by the Marquess specifically for the occasion.

A feeling found in childhood, a love fated to be

Even along a path fraught with suffering

I shall walk on

To stand by your side, my beloved

For the day when that wish comes to be

— Omitted —

She is the one beloved fair

The 'Little Pretty' of my heart

Though my flesh should perish into dust

I shall love you anew once more

— Omitted —

To you whom my heart is pledged

Transcending time to fulfill my soul

I shall love you ceaselessly, forevermore...

***

「What in the world is the meaning of that song?!」

「Is it not a fine song? Besides, I hear that not only women, but men as well shed tears upon hearing it.」

「How is that a 'fine song'?! It makes it sound as though Your Majesty was never loved by the King at all!」

The day after the funeral and coronation concluded without incident, Shaira had invited the Prime Minister to tea to reward him after two extremely busy weeks. However, her guest was currently sipping his tea with a sullen expression, bringing an amused smile to her lips.

Aldridge, her long-standing friend, had been somewhat overprotective toward her since childhood, but she had never expected to still be coddled in such a manner at their age.

(Well, I was the only girl among the four of us, after all...)

「I understand His Majesty's true feelings better than anyone. It is hardly something to get so worked up over, Ren.」

Since those around them were all close confidants, she slipped and addressed him by his old nickname, causing the strict Prime Minister to fall silent.

To be sure, words like 'one true love' or 'you whom my heart is pledged' featured in the lyrics, so many might interpret it that way.

「Even so, I never imagined the Marquess was such a romantic. I hear he penned most of those lyrics himself.」

「A product of pure delusion, no doubt.」

「Still, if it brings peace to the Marquess's heart, is that not a good thing? He lost both his daughter and grandson at once. He likely reconciled his grief by channeling it into such a form.」

「Be that as it may, there ought to be limits...」

「Besides, Trisha's feelings were genuine, unlike Lady Sharley's.」

(Yes... Unlike the Dowager Duchess of Bamford, who sought to make her daughter the Crown Princess purely out of a desire for supreme status, the Royal Concubine—though lacking a bit in prudence—genuinely loved His Majesty with all her heart. Above all, I personally witnessed the moment that young girl fell in love, only to be plunged into despair by heartbreak the very next instant...)

At the banquet celebrating the Crown Prince's sixteenth birthday, the young girl who visited the royal palace for the first time blushed rose-pink the moment she was granted an audience with His Highness, only to turn deathly pale with despair upon noticing Shaira standing beside him. It had been such a pitiful sight that even watching it brought pain to one's heart.

Yet her feelings were no mere childish crush; they were real. After all, though it ultimately took many years, she eventually fulfilled her wish. And His Majesty, being adored to such an extent, could doubtlessly feel no displeasure at it.

「Is that why you offered no objection when the Marquess pushed so relentlessly to make her a royal concubine?」

She merely offered a gentle smile in response, leaving the question unanswered.

Shaira and James had enjoyed a relationship akin to comrades devoted to their nation. Thus, while affectionate family bonds existed between them, Shaira was fully aware that their relationship was somewhat removed from passionate romantic love.

Therefore, she had felt it would eventually be necessary for him to take a royal concubine or mistress, though she saw no need to explain such matters to her friend. A married couple's private affairs belonged strictly to the couple alone.

「Furthermore, where on earth did he pull that story about the Saintess and the Pope sanctioning their love and praying to the Goddess for its fulfillment in their next life? Not to mention Prince Alton being reborn as their child once more. There is no such doctrine anywhere in the Goddess's holy scriptures!」

Gazing at her friend grumbling with a sour expression, she smiled, playfully suggesting that at least the cause of her stomachaches was gone now, so wasn't it for the best?

(Yes... Mourning those lost is the right of those left behind. And if many souls wish for it, perhaps the merciful Goddess will grant that prayer.)

Envisioning a future where a happy family might live under peaceful skies, the Queen picked up a small confection and placed it in her mouth.

*****

Post-humous redemption arc?

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