Chapter 4
Chapter 4
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: Saint Rainy (3)
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The next morning.
As usual, I rose early to handle my work, and the moment I confirmed it was eight o'clock, I turned my ear toward the outside.
It was to check whether the saintess's outbursts were continuing today.
Fortunately, all I could hear from outside were the bustling sounds of the servants preparing for the day's tasks—no drunken mutterings like every single day.
Was there no outburst this time, or was she still asleep from exhaustion? I needed to confirm.
I stamped my seal on the documents I'd been handling, rose from my seat, and opened the door.
The mansion's servants were moving about busily, but every one of their gazes was fixed on the saintess's room.
They must have found it astonishing that she wasn't having an outburst for once.
"Ah, Family Head, good morning."
"Yeah."
I acknowledged the greeting from a maid I knew had recently joined the household and headed toward the saintess's room.
If her outbursts had truly stopped, it would be tremendous good news.
It would be proof that her condition had improved, even if just a little.
The door to her room still hadn't been repaired after being smashed to pieces, so it was temporarily curtained off with cloth. In front of it, the maids were fidgeting restlessly and whispering among themselves.
I asked worriedly, wondering if something had happened.
"What's going on?"
"Um... I think you should see for yourself."
Their expressions suggested it wasn't a major problem, so I let out a quiet sigh of relief and stepped up to the curtain.
"Saintess, it's Raden. May I come in?"
The exact same question as yesterday.
The only difference was...
"Come in or don't."
Today, a curt reply came from the saintess.
Feeling a slight relief at the sound of her healthy voice, I lifted the cloth and entered the room.
The moment I looked around the interior, I understood the maids' reactions.
To my surprise, the saintess was cleaning the room herself!
Judging by the fidgeting maids, they had probably wanted to clean it for her.
But she'd refused and taken it upon herself.
"What wind suddenly blew in?"
I spoke awkwardly at her completely changed demeanor.
They say people die if they start doing things they never did before—I was even starting to worry this might be an omen of her death.
"I'm clean by nature, you know?"
I sucked in a breath. For someone who claimed to be naturally clean, the state of her room had been pretty dire.
I had plenty to say, but I held it back and plopped down onto the bed.
The saintess, who had been wiping down the desk, scowled.
"Hey... hey... that's my bed?"
"This is my house, isn't it? This bed's mine too. You're just borrowing it."
"Uh... r... right?"
I patted the spot next to me.
"Sit down for now. Let's talk."
Until now, the status gap between the saintess and me had always kept things tense.
But maybe because I'd seen her vulnerable side yesterday?
Today, dealing with her felt oddly comfortable somehow. And she seemed to subtly enjoy my casual attitude.
Grumbling under her breath, the saintess sat down obediently beside me.
A faint lemon verbena scent wafted from her hair.
She was such a cute girl when she stayed still like this—how on earth had she fallen into the pit of alcohol?
"Honestly, I'm curious why you ended up drowning in booze and getting excommunicated from the Church."
"..."
The saintess's shoulders twitched.
She clearly didn't want to answer.
"But if you don't feel like talking about it, I won't pry."
"Uh... yeah..."
"So just stay healthy. That's my biggest request."
"..."
The saintess stared straight at me with her dark-circled face.
Well, no verbal reply, but I figured she'd gotten the point.
"So, you came all the way here just to say that?"
"I originally just came to check if you were having an outburst. But you look healthier than I expected, so I decided to bring up the talk I'd been putting off."
"Then we're done? See ya."
"I still have some business left."
I pulled out the fountain pen and small notebook I always carried in my pocket.
The saintess's gaze followed my hand intently.
"Why'd you pull out a notebook all of a sudden?"
"So we can make a contract—one that lets you live a healthy, happy daily life from now on."
"A contract...?"
"Yeah, we'll each pick three things, nice and friendly-like. Three things you want from me. Three things I want from you. And whatever we agree to in the contract, we absolutely keep."
The saintess startled at my words, then crossed her arms over her chest and put some distance between us.
"I-I get that living out here in the sticks must leave you starved for women, but I really can't, okay? I used to be a saintess, so I have to maintain my purity."
"..."
What delusion was this woman spinning now?
"Sorry about that. Instead, I can give you some love advice. I've done plenty of that while hanging out with the kids."
It felt like I'd been shot down.
Even though I hadn't said anything of the sort.
"Saintess... I swear, I don't have even the slightest impure intentions toward you."
"Liar."
"You're seeing the world way too cynically. Not every man looks at you with lewd eyes."
"Hmm..."
The saintess narrowed her eyes and scanned her own body.
"For real? This body's not tempting at all?"
"Saintess... I really have zero wicked thoughts."
"No way that's true? Even I think these tits are damn hot."
After pondering to herself for a moment, the saintess clapped as if she'd realized something.
"Ah, wait—do you have some sexual dysfunction or something? Or are you into guys?"
"From my past life to this one, I've been steadfastly devoted to women only."
The saintess kneaded her breasts and tilted her head, as if she couldn't accept my words as sincere.
She'd been self-deprecating yesterday from withdrawal symptoms, so her self-esteem didn't seem all that high. But when it came to her feminine charms, she was rock-solid confident.
*Ahem.*
I deliberately cleared my throat to pull the conversation back on track from its constant derailing.
"Anyway, back to the main point—let's draw up the contract."
"As long as there's nothing sexual in it."
"...I'm telling you, there's not gonna be anything like that..."
The saintess nodded readily, apparently satisfied with that.
"Who's writing first?"
"You go however you want, Saintess."
"Then I'll go first."
"Sure."
Surprisingly enthusiastic about the contract, she snatched the pen and memo pad from my hand and started writing without a moment's hesitation.
1. No sexual demands whatsoever.
2. Even if you assign me work, limit it to under 100 hours per week.
3. Fully guarantee sleep and meals.
Hm, all perfectly reasonable demands.
It stung a bit that she'd shoehorned in a sex-related clause right at the end, like she couldn't trust me at all.
But I knew how crucially important maintaining her purity was for her divine power, so her overreaction wasn't entirely incomprehensible.
Still, 100 hours a week...
I could see it written there with my own eyes, but I couldn't believe it.
She had to be joking, right?
"You're serious about this? 100 hours a week?"
The saintess's expression stiffened ever so slightly.
"Huh? Too low...? Then 105...?"
What was with this person?
Did she seriously think 105 hours was feasible?
I strictly adhered to 52 hours a week myself—I couldn't even imagine such a workload.
Caught off guard and unable to respond, I watched as the saintess gave an awkward smile and scratched her head.
"Uh... fine, 110 hours! I can't compromise any further!"
110 hours meant working about 16 hours a day, even if you went nonstop all week.
Practically speaking, it was only possible if you cut out all time for eating and sleeping—just pure work around the clock.
Even if this world had no labor standards act, this was straight-up human rights abuse.
"Um... if you'll excuse my rudeness, how many hours did you work when you were at the Church, Saintess?"
The saintess hesitated, clearly debating whether to answer, then gave an awkward smile.
"About 120 hours..."
"Per week?"
"Yeah, every week."
Suddenly, it all made sense why she'd drowned herself in alcohol.
How could anyone stay sane working nearly 17 hours a day as a matter of routine?
No wonder her dark circles never faded—it was the lingering trauma from grinding away at that hellish black corporation of a Church.
I sent her my sincerest admiration.
"You must've worked incredibly hard, Saintess..."
"Haha... well, there were reasons..."
"No matter the reasons, that's an insane workload no normal person could handle."
"Um... flattering me like that won't make me budge, you know?"
"Why can't you just accept the praise at face value?"
"Because all men have nothing but sex on their minds?"
"That's all prejudice. Prejudice."
"It's not prejudice when I've seen it more than once or twice..."
That's when I remembered she used to be a girl who made her living as a pickpocket in the back alleys.
Even a border noble like me had heard plenty about the infamous underbelly of the capital, so it wasn't so strange that she held prejudices against men...
"You managed to do saintess work while being so wary of men."
"Well, the Church handled blocking out the men for me—my purity was a big deal for them too."
"But you're sticking around with me just fine?"
"Uh... huh?"
"If you find men so suspicious, shouldn't you keep your distance from me too?"
"Ah... no... wait? I... is that right?"
Seeing her go blank like that only fueled my sadistic urges.
I could tease her a bit more.
"You might not remember, but we even kissed yesterday."
The saintess's face flushed bright red in an instant.
So she did remember.
"You... you're a... v-virgin, so it's f-fine, right?"
The saintess stammered incoherently, her face beet red.
I chuckled and said...
"What, so you remember everything too, Saintess. And you didn't say a word about it—guess you didn't exactly hate it?"
Her already flushed face started heating up even more.
Divine power was even starting to leak out faintly.
*This is getting dangerous.*
The teasing was too fun—I couldn't hold back.
The moment I started berating myself for the mistake and trying to make a hasty retreat...
"Shut up! Shut your mouth!"
True to form, the saintess grabbed the pillow beside her and hurled it.
A faint lemon verbena scent wafted from her pillow.