Surviving the Saintess (5)
Hypnosis stopped.
It was a message I'd never seen before.
Until now, whenever hypnosis activated, no one had ever resisted it.
But for the first time, someone had appeared who couldn't even be hypnotized in the first place.
A pious smile.
Unyielding gaze.
Suppressing the chill creeping up my spine, I forced my expression to stay neutral.
...Stay calm.
I was flustered, sure.
But I couldn't let it show.
To her, I'd just look like some weirdo panicking on my own.
"Have you ever felt that way yourself, Counselor?"
First, I had to answer the question she'd just thrown at me.
Normally, this would've been the point where hypnosis smoothed things over...
What the hell am I supposed to say?
Thinking about it, this was the normal way. Counseling was supposed to be done with words.
Everything up until now had basically been a scam.
That said, was I any good at talking?
I wasn't terrible, but honestly, I was anxious.
There was a world of difference between coasting on hypnosis-induced goodwill and starting from scratch.
But I couldn't just send this woman packing either.
All my other clients for the day had already bailed.
Serena Yustina Armenis.
I had no idea who this long-named woman was.
But with a knight escort like that, she was clearly no ordinary person.
This could be my big payday.
And it's not like I have zero options.
That psychology class I'd taken as an elective back in the day.
It was boring as hell, but there were some plausible-sounding tricks.
The Barnum effect. Tell people something vague that could apply to anyone, and they'll think it's all about them.
They said it was a con artist's tactic, but hey, who said a counselor couldn't use it?
It's all about how you wield it.
Finishing my mental calculations, I leaned back in my chair and opened my mouth, feigning maximum nonchalance.
"Well, when you're in a position of listening to others' stories, you sometimes fall into that kind of emptiness yourself."
First, show some plausible empathy.
"But right now, it's not about my story that's important."
Naturally pivot the topic.
"Lady Serena."
"Yes."
"On the outside, you're always so composed, but inside, there are times when you're anxious, aren't there?"
Serena blinked lightly.
"To some extent... I suppose."
A lukewarm response.
But she didn't deny it.
So, the bait was hooked, at least.
"There are moments when you can't easily trust others and open up your true feelings, right?"
Serena's shoulders twitched slightly.
"You have sharp eyes, Counselor."
Was it... working?
This woman's reactions were too composed; it was hard to tell.
She just smiled serenely.
Politely, yet keeping a subtle distance.
Like she'd heard lines like this a million times before.
This isn't cutting it.
I needed to get more specific.
Come to think of it, she'd called herself a Listener.
Someone who listens.
Of course, it probably wasn't just that.
If it were, there'd be no need for an escort knight or clearing out the alley.
Either way, one thing was clear: she wasn't ordinary.
So the angle to dig into is obvious.
Finishing my internal math, I spoke up.
"Lady Serena."
"Yes."
"When you've been in a position of hearing others' troubles for so long..."
I shifted in my seat and continued.
"You probably have nowhere to share your own story."
Serena's fingers fidgeted on her knee.
A starkly different reaction from before.
"Even as you offer comfort to others, there are times when that thought crosses your mind, aren't there?"
"......"
"'They'll come back tomorrow with the same troubles. What am I even doing?' Something like that."
Serena's breathing deepened.
It was a guess—anyone in a listening role must've felt that doubt at least once.
"......Yes, that's right."
For the first time, her reply came a beat late.
"And one more thing."
I met her eyes directly.
"The Serena others see and the self you know are quite different."
This time, her gaze wavered.
The cross on her chest swayed faintly with her breath.
Her respiration deepened slightly.
It was a shallow inference—that someone who only hears others' problems must have a gap between their outer and inner selves.
Serena fell silent for a long while.
Time to drive the final nail.
"Sometimes, you must imagine it too."
"......?"
"Yourself standing somewhere else, not in your current position."
Serena's lips parted slightly.
A tiny movement, like she'd started to speak but swallowed it.
"......Counselor."
"Yes."
"That's..."
Her words trailed off.
For the first time.
Her sentence hung unfinished in the air.
A moment later, Serena let out a soft breath.
She lowered her praying hands and leaned quietly against the sofa backrest.
Her rigid posture relaxed noticeably.
"It's the first time. Hearing talk like this."
Piety gone, replaced by the relaxed expression of just one person.
"To see through me so deeply after we've only just met."
"It's only natural to see that much. Isn't it the same for you, Lady Serena?"
"Haa... Lady Levantia didn't bring it up for nothing, then."
She knew Chloe?
Too awkward to ask outright; better to let it slide.
Anyway, from that conversation onward, Serena spoke much more comfortably.
Adding phrases like "It's the first time anyone's said this to me" now and then, she shared everything from deep worries to trivial ones.
I played the role of her confidant for quite a while,
then cut the conversation off at a good point.
"I think that's enough for today."
Serena rose slowly from her seat.
Smoothing her wrinkled habit with her hand, she asked,
"It was a new kind of conversation for me."
I couldn't pinpoint the exact feeling, but her expression suggested it wasn't bad.
So, mission accomplished on the counseling front?
Well, it wasn't proper counseling, but whatever.
As Serena headed for the door, she spotted the counseling fee notice scribbled in the corner of the wall.
[Counseling Fee: 2 Copper Coins]
My own handwriting, small and unassuming.
Of course, no one had ever paid exactly that amount so far,
but it was the listed rate.
Serena tilted her head slightly at it, then broke into a benevolent smile.
"How austere."
Was frugality a virtue in her religion too?
Had to be a compliment, then.
Serena chuckled softly and placed the coins on the table.
Clink, clink.
"......"
With her pious smile intact, she stepped out the door.
Through the window, I watched her depart with the knights.
I stared blankly at the table.
Two copper coins.
"........."
The first time I'd ever received the exact listed fee.
Even Marie had paid three.
Tsk.
The churches around here were stingy as hell.
The sunset dyed the carriage interior red.
Leaning against the swaying seat, I quietly gazed at the scenery outside.
From the narrow back alley to the wide boulevard.
At its end, the cathedral spires came into view.
Naturally, memories of the ordination day surfaced.
Serena Yustina Armenis.
Yes.
Become the Lord's ear.
Yes.
Fifteenth Listener. Peace at the end of confession.
Back then, I was filled with glory.
The calling from the Lord.
I had sworn to bear its weight gladly.
And the days that followed.
Hearing the confessions of the faithful.
Hearing the requests of nobles.
Hearing the reports of the knights.
A life of listening to others all day long.
That was the place the Lord had granted me.
I had told them thousands of times.
That it would be okay.
I had prayed tens of thousands of times.
That the Lord's blessing would descend.
I had always meant it sincerely.
Yet no one heard my confession.
As if no one on this earth believed the noble saintess could have her own troubles.
But today, for the first time, I was asked.
What troubles do you have?
Troubles.
That word quietly resonated in a corner of my heart I'd been avoiding.
At first, it was just words.
Composed on the outside, anxious within.
Unable to easily trust others.
To me, who had heard countless confessions, such phrases wouldn't pierce deeply.
But his next words were different.
You probably have nowhere to share your own story.
A chill settled in my chest.
'They'll come back tomorrow with the same troubles. What am I even doing?'
My heart seemed to stop for a moment.
It was something I'd never voiced aloud.
An emotion I thought couldn't be put into words.
Doubts about whether my work truly mattered.
He had voiced it first.
The Serena others see and the self you know are quite different.
Saintess Serena.
The things hidden beneath the pious smile.
He had pinpointed them.
Yourself standing somewhere else, not in your current position.
It was a blasphemous imagining.
But I couldn't claim I'd never had such thoughts.
Perhaps I should thank the Lord.
For forgiving this blasphemous me and allowing this encounter.
Lady Serena.
Yes.
He called me that.
He must know what Listener means.
Yet he still addressed me so. Treating me as one person.
The carriage stopped.
Stained glass stretched long beneath the spires.
The cathedral.
The door opened.
The nun-knight stood guard with a solemn face.
Did we need guarding even inside the cathedral? But it was her duty, so I respected it.
I descended slowly and headed for the entrance.
The nun-knight fell in step beside me.
"Saintess. How was the counseling?"
"It wasn't bad."
The nun-knight matched my pace.
She glanced around, confirmed no one was near, and spoke lowly.
"That's not what I meant to ask."
Her eyes were cold.
Not the eyes that had protected me moments ago.
"The heresy charges against Isaac Sinclair. Do you believe them to be true, Saintess?"
I didn't answer right away.
The sunset cast long shadows beneath the cathedral spires.
The mysterious curse spreading among the empire's nobles.
And rumors that someone was curing it.
Was it a miracle?
Or a deception only the curse's originator could perform?
Discerning the truth was this mission.
I answered calmly, without stopping.
"I sensed no unnatural aura."
A moment later, I added,
"However, I would need to meet him once more to be certain."
The nun-knight bowed her head silently.
We could talk again if we met once more.
I could hear his voice once more.
...But.
If he was fabricating it all.
If he was the one spreading the curse and posing as its healer.
"Agnes."
The nun-knight halted briefly.
"Prepare the Judgment Orb for the next visit."
I knew she would, even without a reply.
Entering the cathedral, I clasped my hands.
Lord.
Please, let him not be a deceiver.
For the Fifteenth Listener is also the Fifteenth Inquisitor.
I do not wish to show You such a self.