Mischievous Sara Lorojin (1)
The very next day after Orin crumbled, the entire capital was abuzz from dawn. It was the death of the pope from the most vigorously active church at the present moment. Even his high priests and knights beneath him wailed like children, confessing themselves as apostates. Who wouldn't be shocked by such a grotesque spectacle? Moreover, those who wielded Orin's divinity had lost their powers overnight, so the bewilderment among those deeply connected to them must have been immense.
Pterin was no different. Though their ties were on the unfortunate side, with the church that had gripped the guild's throat collapsing in an instant, the upper echelons immediately convened a meeting to decide on their course of action. Amid this chaotic bustle, Rnier Pterin made her way back to the manor and found her place.
And there she saw it.
"This is Orin...?"
"Yeah, it's Orin."
A lump of fire the size of an egg flickered atop Sara's shoulder. It didn't burn anything around it, just bobbed there on her shoulder like a small rodent.
[Hello.]
Orin greeted her in a chirping voice. Rnier hesitated for a split second, unsure how to respond. Wasn't this the head of a hostile faction? Beyond that, she'd heard it was Orin's faith that had razed Sara's hometown. Sara's bright expression made no sense.
Lenoir provided the answer to her confusion.
"Would you curse the throne for a nation's decline, or the one seated upon it?"
"So, the spirit is the throne, and the pope is the king...?"
"Wise indeed. If only my little Sara possessed such wisdom."
"Hey, am I not wise?"
"Little Sara, clever tricks and true wisdom are distinct. The former springs from cunning, the latter from experience."
"...You're just looking down on me 'cause I ain't got no book learnin', right?"
"I lament it so."
She could ignore the tail end of that. It was obvious Lenoir had toppled the church—even with eyes closed. Since he'd verified Orin itself posed no issue, it must be true. Sara seemed to grasp this too, treating Orin like a cute pet. Everything was fine, wasn't it?
'Yeah, no need to overthink it.'
Rnier drew a firm line between her duties and what lay beyond. She had no desire to waste energy on matters unchanged by her fussing.
"Understood. Shall we proceed with the lessons, then? Great Lord."
Before Lenoir, she observed proper etiquette with Sara. Remembering their agreement from the day before, Sara nodded.
"This week, let's start with reading. You're a quick learner, so it'll be over fast."
"Yes! Teacher!"
Lenoir nodded in satisfaction at the sight. It was a heartwarming scene for any parent as they moved to the study prepared for lessons. Only then did Rnier loosen her tight reins.
"Whew, how's your master so uptight?"
"Right? But today's him goin' easy!"
"Today's easy?"
"Yeah. Hmm..."
Sara's brow furrowed, a hint of worry in her eyes.
"Seems like master's got somethin' on his mind. He's been like that all day."
To Rnier, he seemed no different. But Sara, who spent the whole day at his side, might sense the subtle shift. She let it be. It was far from her responsibilities, so she had no intention of meddling.
"Eh, well. More responsibilities mean more worries, yeah? Anyway, let's study. Wrap it up quick and relax."
"Yeah...!"
She kept her words brief. But whether it was the first lesson or Sara's state, Sara couldn't focus. Still, she learned fast as ever.
* * *
To Sara, Lenoir had been off all day. More precisely, ever since he'd returned from his outing the previous night. She'd barely noticed right when he got back, but his reactions felt oddly sluggish. Normally, he'd trail her all day, nagging at every little move, yet now he overlooked her ungraceful habits until she noticed them herself. Sometimes, a glance showed he wasn't even looking her way. His mind seemed elsewhere.
Of course, no one could be perfectly attentive all the time, but it worried her. When someone acted out of character, you couldn't help but fret over some big trouble.
And most importantly, before the proper tutoring began, she'd recounted her adventures, things she figured deserved praise—and his response was delayed.
—Well done.
Just that, with the head pat that should follow as a matter of course missing. This was no small matter. In back-alley terms, it was like getting sloshed with the sisters and skipping the bill. Like refusing to accept a three-card monte outcome. Deals had to be square. Sara was deeply miffed at missing her due praise, and amid that, she couldn't stop pondering what was troubling Lenoir.
It was afternoon when lessons ended. After sending Rnier off, Sara flopped onto her bed back in her room, lost in thought. Not just rolling around mindlessly.
"Orin. What's goin' on?"
[Huh...?]
"Worried 'bout master. Somethin' must be up..."
No way her street smarts from fifteen years of scraping by were that dull. To Sara, Lenoir's worry ran deeper than Selbes on the verge of getting dragged into gang trouble. Sure, it was beyond her to fix, so he hadn't consulted her—but she hated being useless.
Sara wanted Lenoir happy. Even better if it was because of her. She'd never seen it yet, but she dreamed of his beaming smile someday. She wanted to draw it out herself.
Hence the dilemma. How to snap this un-Lenoir-like Lenoir back to normal? Back to the guy dishing out petty nagging, praising what was praiseworthy.
A beast's instincts sharpened most when starved. To hunt prey, its edge honed keen. In the same vein, Sara's brain whirred at max speed, deprived of her daily praise quota.
Do something to make Lenoir happy, ease his worries. Bonus: snag some praise too?
She tickled Orin on her belly with one hand, humming "Hmmm~!" from her lips. What made Lenoir happy? Most certain: her acting like a dignified lady. When he'd explained dignity, he'd called Selbes pure-hearted.
'If I were Selbes sis...!'
Sara squeezed her eyes shut, running the simulation. Selbes was the most adult, wisest person she knew. And thinking on it, Selbes always brought smiles to people's faces.
'I'm Selbes sis! I'm Selbes sis...!'
With self-hypnosis in play, the answer neared.
"That's it!"
Her eyes snapped open as she bolted upright. Orin tumbled to the floor.
[Whoa...!]
"Orin! I got it!"
[Huh...?]
"No time! Gotta cheer up master!"
Sara snatched her prized money pouch—stuffed with gold from Rnier and silver from Lenoir. She swallowed hard.
'Kinda hurts to spend, but...!'
For Lenoir, no coin was too precious. Sara dashed from the room.
* * *
Was there an active demigod out there? Such thoughts had Lenoir mulling more than usual these past couple days. Other factors aside, he couldn't predict how his siblings would receive Sara. He'd tipped off Pterin separately, but results would take time. He was probing Orin's church for its roots too, but meaningful gains seemed unlikely. Deep down, it was impatience. Feeling this emotion after so long spoke volumes of how dense his recent days had become.
With so much else demanding attention.
As he exhaled softly in thought—
"Master!!!"
Sara came barreling in with thudding steps, chaotic as ever. Lenoir looked up to see her beaming ear-to-ear, eyes sparkling.
"Your steps are imprudent, little Sara."
"Oops! Sorry! But I had to show you quick!"
"Show me what?"
"My gift to cheer you up!"
Cheer him up? Perplexed at first, Lenoir caught himself. Oh no.
'I've worried her.'
Sharp kid. Perhaps his distraction had shown. He reflected deeply, and admired her dashing in like this.
"You've thought of comfort so soon. That heart for others is truly endearing."
"Heehee, bank that praise! C'mon, stand up!?"
What on earth had she prepared to be this excited? Even as he wondered, Lenoir rose.
Sara grabbed his pinky tight and tugged him toward the annex.
"Not telling till we get there?"
"Nope! Surprise gift!"
Confidence radiated from her steps. If she was this sure, maybe she had a real winner. Curiosity piqued—what scheme brewed in that little head? She seemed to crave praise, so he'd deliver aplenty.
"Here! Ta-da!"
...Right up until the annex door swung open.
Lenoir's gaze quivered in dismay.
"Oh my! What a handsome gentleman."
"Please take good care of us~"
"Eek! Master! Come sit!"
Nearly ten young women in sheer negligees filled the space. A liquor table sat in the center, their overpowering perfume unmistakable. Professionals from the slums, in Sara's words. What in the world?
Stunned, he turned to the culprit. Sara grinned like a fawning lackey, rubbing her hands.
"Heh heh... Nothin' beats booze and girls for heavy worries. Master, forget it all and enjoy today!"
Lenoir's head throbbed. He rubbed his face, steadying his breath several times.
"...Dismiss them."
"Huh? Don't be shy, have fun! It's the back-alley killer move 'Bee Swarm' from Lana sis! They all go wild and it lifts your spirits! Even Selbes sis approved!"
"...Please, please send them away."
Whatever this 'Bee Swarm' or 'wild rush' was, Sara clearly grasped neither the term nor the deed. But its form loomed so plainly—Lenoir just wanted to deny the reality before him. Her foster mothers suddenly seemed most regrettable.