Behind the Gentle Smile

Drina wasn't thinking only of her. Did I get too excited today? she thought, her face flushed with embarrassment. Looking back, suddenly expressing gratitude in that way might have been excessive. Perhaps it had even been burdensome...

She was turning back toward her room with those thoughts when it happened. The sound of pouring rain filled the air. But the rain wasn't what had captured her attention. What stole her gaze was—

"Jenkinson... Your Grace?"

None other than ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Priest Jenkinson. He stood motionless in the corridor with a grave expression, staring out the window.

"Ah, Sister Drina."

When he turned that familiar smile toward her, she realized for the first time just how artificial it truly was. She hadn't noticed it when they first met—his artificial smile. But now, seeing it up close like this, she could feel it. The falseness of that smile. The sorrow he struggled to conceal behind it. And... the fear and regret lurking beneath.

What could he possibly regret? What could a man as strong as him possibly fear?

"What troubles you so deeply?" Drina wanted to know. He was her benefactor... and she wanted to be his strength in return.

"It's nothing. More importantly, Sister Drina, shouldn't you be retiring for the—"

"It's not nothing, is it?"

Those eyes. Those serious eyes left Jenkinson feeling slightly overwhelmed.

"...It's really nothing."

Yet Jenkinson said nothing more. It wasn't something he could tell her. And it's certainly not something I could say honestly.

The truth was, if he admitted he was afraid of her too, what would she think? He knew that goodwill did not always remain goodwill. He understood human weakness, and therefore knew that anyone could turn evil at any moment. There was no chance she would harm him or put him in danger, but... experiencing goodwill twist into malice was still painful for Jenkinson. That was what he feared.

He feared himself for doubting even someone as good as her. He feared that he had to doubt her. He was terrified of becoming someone who constantly suspected others. Even though his very job required him to doubt people without end... Jenkinson still wanted, in the end, to believe in them.

"Am I not able to help you? What can I do to become someone who supports you?"

Seeing her earnest face as she spoke those words, Jenkinson couldn't help but laugh. Did she realize it? That her pure goodwill, the way she responded so seriously to even his casual kindness, had instead...

"You have already helped me, Sister Drina."

She had already become more helpful to him than anything else in the world. Thanks to her—thanks to people like her—Jenkinson had gained something precious. While constantly doubting others and guarding against weakness... he had learned to love that very weakness. He had found the strength to keep reaching out his hand.

Just that. The mere existence of good people who returned favor with favor was enough. Because they existed, he could continue moving forward. In that very moment, Jenkinson had already been saved.

That was why his face had grown visibly lighter, the tension melting away.

The woman caught red-handed kept her head bowed before her furious husband, while her partner in adultery continued to tremble. The husband looked as though he wanted them burned at the stake, but unfortunately the Church did not hand down such sentences lightly.

"Those filthy bastards. Looks good on you."

Ptui! The husband spat on both their faces with a face twisted in rage, then turned ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to Jenkinson.

"So these two are heretics now?"

Jenkinson pulled out a handkerchief and gently wiped the spit from their faces as he answered.

"Yes. I've already made arrangements with the Church, so someone will be sent shortly. Their assets will be confiscated as a matter of course. In cases like this, the state naturally takes fifty percent, while the other fifty percent will be given to you."

"As it should be!" The husband laughed with satisfaction, while the adulterous man's face went deathly pale.

"N-no! If that's the case, then my shop—"

Jenkinson regarded him with a calm expression. It couldn't be helped. In this country, heretics were forbidden from owning property.

"Well, there's nothing to be done. Alternatively, you may request a retrial through the kingdom's courts. Though in that case, it would likely result in total asset forfeiture and castration."

"..."

It was almost funny. If one disliked the Church's punishment, they could always choose to be judged under the kingdom's law instead. Yet no one ever chose that path. No matter the punishment, the Church's law was always lighter than the kingdom's.

"It seems... a little too harsh," Asa muttered, watching the crying pair and the man smiling as he calculated his gains.

Committing adultery was undeniably a sin against doctrine, and a prohibited act that the state itself viewed with grave importance. Setting the Church aside, why did the nation place such weight on it? To understand that, one first had to know the history of the continent.

In the beginning, Goddess Yuno had been little more than a minor faith followed by a handful of tribes. In those days, the God of War Uruk and the God of Lightning Temar had far more worshippers. The reason Yuno suddenly took root among them was precisely this emphasis on promises.

That era had been ruled by the logic of raw power. It was commonplace to seize goods agreed upon in trade, to abandon one's spouse for someone new and discard the children one had brought into the world. The world had grown naturally promiscuous, and people began to yearn for laws.

Into that rough, lawless world dominated by power came the great first Pope, Saint Peter. He spread the laws of Goddess Yuno, established the Holy Kingdom, built the Church, and taught order. Armed with strict punishments, doctrines that prized promises, and ironclad laws, the Holy Kingdom stood tall and pure amid the chaos. Other nations gradually adapted the Holy Kingdom's laws to suit their own tastes, and royal families began declaring themselves the chosen leaders of Goddess Yuno.

Fundamentally, their laws had taken only the harshest aspects of Yuno's teachings and made them even stricter. Naturally, compared to the Church's laws, the kingdoms' laws were far more severe and cruel. Unlike the Holy Kingdom's laws that applied equally to all, the kingdoms' laws did not bind the chosen few. In the end, it was always the weak who suffered.

In other words... the kingdoms had never abandoned the logic of power. They had simply wrapped it in the guise of law to crush the weak more elegantly.

One only had to look at what had happened in that very kingdom. The law that had been so cruel to a mere servant had shown infinite leniency to a princess, imposing no punishment whatsoever. Of course the law could not judge a princess, but in that case the servant would not have been punished either.

Every time, Jenkinson felt ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it keenly. There was so much he needed to do. So much that he had no time to rest.

That was why he gave Asa a simple answer.

"It may seem pitiful. But a promise is a promise. And someone who breaks one once can break it again at any time."

He had just advised them that anyone could make mistakes and should learn from them to improve, but not many people were capable of that. Jenkinson was not naïve. He acknowledged that humans were fundamentally difficult to change. There were exceptions, of course, but laws were not made for exceptions.

"Shall we head back and have dinner?"

Watching the Church officials lead the heretics away, Jenkinson spoke in a relaxed tone. The hour had grown late enough for supper.

At his words, Asa's face lit up immediately.

"Dinner! That lady at the tavern is an incredible cook."

"..."

Jenkinson flinched. There wasn't much of an age gap between him and Jenny.

"Haha. 'That lady,' is it? I suppose so."

The words brought an unwitting laugh from him. Uncle, huh... 'Well, I'll be turning thirty soon...'

Had he already reached that age? Jenkinson found himself smiling at the thought that if she had lived, he would have quit the priesthood long ago. If she were still alive, they would likely have married by now and returned to his family estate. He would have gone to the capital of Rucella to succeed his father, busily ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠building connections. He could picture himself flattering the central nobles to advance his work. Yet knowing it was something that could never happen, Jenkinson could only smile.

It's truly strange today.

Following after Asa, Jenkinson suddenly realized something. It really was strange. Today, when he had thought of her, his chest hadn't ached at all.