Is This a Trend?
And so began my visitor consultations with Cecilia by my side. Naturally, the very first petitioner proved to be an utter pain in the ass.
Fine, tailored clothes, spotless skin, hair slicked with enough pomade to blind a man in direct sunlight, and a stench of cheap perfume thick enough to choke a horse.
The moment this textbook noble sat across from me, he launched into a pompous monologue extolling his faction, boasting of their unrivaled excellence, and waxing poetic about their lofty political ideals.
For thirty whole minutes.
Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't have tolerated ten seconds of this drivel before kicking him out. The only reason I sat through it was pure entertainment—I wanted to watch Cecilia’s reaction.
Stealing a glance sideways, I found her eyebrow twitching, her face a marvelous blend of utter bewilderment, disgust, and rising horror.
"I have heard that you, Lord Aljen, can perceive both past and future, possessing knowledge of all worldly affairs. Won't you please put that profound wisdom to proper use within our society?"
Having finally concluded his endless faction puffery, the man made his pitch. He oozed smug self-assurance, looking for all the world as though he were entirely convinced I'd leap at the offer.
I gave a short snort, swirled the liquor in my bottle, and sank deeper into the sofa cushions.
"Nah, think I'll pass. Now, would you kindly get the hell out?"
"P-Pardon?"
"I said beat it. You deaf, or just stupid?"
"Ah... haha... You seem to have misunderstood, my lord! Our faction is not the shady cabal you might imagine. We merely wish to reform the foundational systems and governance of the current Empire!"
"Hahaha. Listen to this lunatic."
Letting out an incredulous laugh, I flicked my wrist toward Muriel.
"Muriel. Escort the gentleman out."
"Yes, Milord."
"W-What in the world...?! Wait! Lord Aljen! Please, hear me out! Once you understand our cause, you will surely sympathize with our grand ideology! Happiness for the people! The greatest good for the greatest number—!"
Muriel dragged him away by the collar, and only after the heavy double doors slammed shut did his frantic yelling finally cut off.
"...Are all your visitors like that?"
Cecilia looked utterly appalled. I let out a dry chuckle and nodded.
"Pretty much. Granted, that one was on the special side, but yeah... pain in the neck, every last one of them."
"Ugh... Ah, now that I think about it, I just remembered an urgent matter! I really must return to my room—"
"Whoa there, hold your horses."
As she made a desperate scramble to stand, I caught her wrist in a firm grip and grinned ear to ear.
"Not so fast. We started this together, so you're staying until the bitter end."
"Eeeek?! Let go! I don't want to deal with lunatics like that!"
"Neither do I. That's why you're sharing the misery."
"What kind of drag-you-down-with-me demon are you?! Let go! Let go of me right now! Wendy! Help!"
"Muriel. Intercept."
The instant Wendy stepped forward at Cecilia's plea, Muriel glided smoothly across the floor to block her path.
"...Step aside, please."
"My apologies, but I am under orders."
"......"
"......"
Though both maintained perfectly blank expressions, the murderous pressure rolling off them suggested blood would spill at the slightest twitch.
"Hey, look at that. Those two might actually throw down for real."
"And whose fault do you think that is?!" Cecilia shrieked, glaring daggers as I nodded smugly toward the standoff.
"Search me. Wouldn't it be the Saintess's fault for trying to shirk her duties and cut and run?"
"You are truly unbelievable! Aaargh, fine! I'll do it! I'll stay, alright?!"
"Wise choice."
The moment I released her wrist, Cecilia collapsed back into her chair with an exasperated grumble and glared at me with pure venom. I merely flashed a relaxed smirk and gave a casual shrug. That only seemed to stoke her fury further, but I couldn't care less.
The next petitioner was a high-ranking adventurer. The fellow wasted no time demanding coordinates for undiscovered dungeons and ancient relics. When I quoted an exorbitant information fee, he tried haggling for a bit before storming out with a face like he’d swallowed a turd.
"Sir Aljen... Do you truly know the locations of new dungeons and relics?"
"Nothing 'new,' strictly speaking. Just the ones nobody's stumbled across yet. Why, interested?"
"...How on earth did you acquire such knowledge in the first place?"
"Told you, it just popped into my head one day. Who knows? Maybe it's a divine blessing from your Goddess."
"Haaah... Never mind. I was a fool to ask... And please, don't say such things in front of others. Especially not around members of the Church."
"Oho. Are you worrying about me right now?"
"As if! Who'd worry about you? Hmph."
I tipped my bottle back with a grin as she haughtily turned her nose away.
Our third guest was an elderly mage—an old fossil, truth be told. He stroked his impeccably groomed beard, his eyes appraising me like an appraiser sizing up pawned merchandise. Haha. What a charming bastard.
"Hmm. Is it true you developed the formula for the Mana Wave Blocker?"
"Don't know where you heard that, old man, but I never did anything of the sort."
"If rumors ring true, you possess foresight of the future. Did you not use that clairvoyance to steal an artifact destined to be invented down the line?"
"Haaah..."
"Aha, judging by your reaction, my hypothesis was correct. Could you perhaps share the formulas for artifacts yet to be invented with me? Ah, naturally, I shall compensate you handsomely."
"Afraid that's a no. Muriel. Another guest leaving."
"Yes, Milord."
"W-What is the meaning of this insolence?! Young man, do you have any idea who I am?!"
"I know. Which is why you should haul your wrinkled ass out of my sight."
When I waved him away like a buzzing gnat, his face flushed scarlet with indignation. He slammed his hands down and stormed toward the door.
"I shall not forget this insult!"
He even tossed in a third-rate villain line on his way out. Classic.
"...What an arrogant man."
"Standard fare for spell-slinging hacks."
"Not that your manners were any better... Did you know him?"
"Strictly a one-way acquaintance on my end." I chuckled, taking another sip of liquor. "He'll ruin himself without any help from me. Nothing to lose sleep over."
"Saying it like that only makes me wonder more."
"Heh, wanna know?"
"...The look on your face is entirely too suspicious. My curiosity just vanished."
With a heavy sigh, Cecilia sucked down the sweet beverage sitting before her.
The next visitor was a commoner—an ordinary citizen of Terabaon, possessing neither political influence nor magical prowess.
"H-Hello. It is an honor to meet you, Lord Stanashila Aljen."
"Yeah, yeah. No need to shake in your boots. Make yourself at home."
"Y-Yes, sir!"
Despite my reassurance, he moved with all the grace of a rusted tin soldier. His sheer terror amused me so much that I let out a snicker, prompting Cecilia to slap my thigh under the table with an admonishing glare.
"So, what brings you here?"
"Well... I run a modest little shop here in Terabaon... and lately, I suspect my wife might be having an affair..."
"Huh?!"
Every eye in the room snapped to Cecilia at her sudden, high-pitched squeak.
"Ah—oh! Forgive me! Please, carry on!"
"Uh, erm... right."
Failing to recognize the Saintess, the man gave her an odd look, clearly wondering why a young girl was sitting in on noble counsel, before refocusing on his predicament. He rambled at great length, but the gist was simple: he suspected his wife was cheating and had no idea how to handle it.
"Fuuu..."
I sparked a cigarette, dragged deep, and blew a thick plume of smoke toward the ceiling before clapping Cecilia firmly on the back.
"Alright. Your time to shine, Cecilia."
"What?! Me?! What on earth am I supposed to do?!"
"Counseling troubled souls is a priestess's bread and butter, isn't it? Work your magic."
"As if marital counseling is part of my divine duties! That makes no sense whatsoever—!"
She opened her mouth to blast me, but under the petitioner's bewildered gaze, she swallowed her anger and forced a painfully tight smile. Squirming under the man's earnest, pleading eyes, she finally cracked.
"Ah... well, um..."
Watching Cecilia bumble her way through relationship advice proved to be prime entertainment—the perfect snack to accompany my drink. A sweating Saintess grasping at theological straws without a clue how to steer the conversation, coupled with an anxious shopkeeper questioning his life choices as he poured his heart out to a young girl—it was comedic gold.
"...Milord. Your expression is excessively villainous," Muriel murmured from behind me.
"Oh, was it? Ahem."
I quickly reeled in my shit-eating grin and decided to step in. If I left them to stew any longer, the Saintess's mental fuse was going to blow, leaving her an ash-white husk.
"So, bottom line: you think your wife is stepping out on you."
"Pardon? Ah, yes. That is the crux of it."
"You certain? Caught her red-handed?"
"Well... I haven't seen anything with my own two eyes, but judging by how she's been acting lately..."
Watching the poor fellow slump in despair, I exhaled another ring of smoke.
"Just out of curiosity, you got an anniversary or something coming up?"
"Eh? Ah, well... my birthday is in a few days, but..."
"Then isn't that the obvious answer? She's probably sneaking around trying to set up a grand surprise for your birthday."
"Uh... could that really be it?"
"Most likely. You said it yourself—you haven't actually caught her cheating. If you won't believe in your own wife, who will?"
"M-Mm..."
"Alright, case closed. Sit tight for a few more days and see how it plays out. Consultation over. Muriel."
"Yes, Milord."
"Ah, thank you! Thank you so much, Lord Aljen! I'll put my faith in her a little longer!"
"Yeah, yeah, off you go~"
Whatever the actual truth was, I casually waved off the profusely bowing merchant and turned my attention back to Cecilia.
"......"
She sat slumped against the sofa backrest, completely drained, her eyes glassy and unfocused.
"Pfft. You holding up alright, Cecilia?"
"...I loathe you, Sir Aljen."
"Oh dear. To be hated by the Saintess herself—what a terrifying predicament. I'm so shaken I might have to drown my sorrows."
Gulp, gulp.
I deliberately tipped the bottle back and chugged, making her glare turn positively venomous.
"Eeeek...!"
Unable to contain her rage, she pummeled my side and shoulder with both fists. Her blows didn't hurt in the slightest—they barely even tickled—but I made sure to ham it up for full dramatic effect.
"Aargh! Ow, mercy! The Saintess is committing murder! Is physical violence truly the doctrine of the Church?!"
"Shut up! You deserve to be beaten black and blue!"
After flailing at me for a good while, her stamina completely gave out, and she melted back onto the sofa cushions like an exhausted puddle.
"...Why on earth did he come to you for adultery counseling in the first place...?"
"Search me. Beats the hell out of me why he thought I was the right man for the job."
"...Seriously, why do I have to suffer through this...?"
"Come on, it's a novel experience. Fun, right?"
"Not in the slightest!" she yelled, downed the rest of her drink in a single gulp, and let out a long breath. "Whew... Still, I'm just glad his wife isn't actually having an affair."
"Hm? What are you talking about?"
"What? You said so yourself, Sir Aljen. You told him she wasn't cheating."
"I never said that. For all we know, the poor bastard's gut is spot on and she's sleeping with the butcher."
"What?! T-Then what is he supposed to do?! If that's true, it's a disaster!"
"Disaster for who?"
"Are you being serious right now?! He came all the way here to seek your counsel! How can you be so utterly irresponsible?!"
"What responsibility? Is it my marriage? Not my circus, not my monkeys."
"......"
Her jaw dropped open so wide it practically hit the floor. Seeing her utterly frozen in disbelief, I broke into a chuckle.
Regardless of Cecilia's existential crisis, the parade of petitioners continued unabated, each pouring out their trivial concerns with life-or-death gravity. Naturally, I pawned off the vast majority of the counseling onto Cecilia. Far too soft-hearted for her own good and terrible at asserting herself against pressure, she couldn't bring herself to turn anyone away, painstakingly offering earnest answers to every absurd query.
"...I can't... move... a single muscle..."
By the time we finally cleared the last visitor—far later in the evening than usual—she had transformed into a boneless rug draped over the furniture.
"Good work. Solid effort. Though starting tomorrow, I'd appreciate it if you wrapped things up a bit quicker."
"Tomorrow too?! Don't you dare! I'm not doing this! Never again!"
"My, my. Is the Saintess refusing to lend an ear to the suffering common folk?"
"Guilt-tripping won't work on me anymore!"
"Guess I'll just redirect tomorrow's queue straight to your bedroom."
"Listen to me for once! I said no! I'm warning you—send anyone to my room and I will truly lose my temper!"
"Tch..."
Seeing my scheme to permanently offload the administrative burden fail, I waved a dismissive hand.
"Fine, beat it then. Go back to your room and sleep."
"I swear, how can a human being be like this?! Is that the tone and face you give someone who just endured torment on your behalf?!"
"Who asked you to?"
"You did! Literally you!"
"Careful now, anyone listening would think I coerced you. Saintess, I hold neither the authority nor the might to compel you to do anything. In fact, one could argue you ruthlessly stole my vocation. To rob me of the solitary duty I perform within the Duke's Castle... how positively wicked. Yet what can a frail, powerless fellow like me do? I have no choice but to bear it in silence."
"Wh—You—H-How dare you... Urk...!"
Cecilia grabbed the back of her neck as if her blood pressure had spiked through the roof, flailing in wordless fury. I burst out laughing.
"Wendy. The Saintess seems indisposed. Escort her back."
"Haaah... Understood."
Scooping Cecilia up into her arms, Wendy offered a polite, dignified bow and carried the fuming Saintess out the door.
And five minutes later, she returned alone.
"What's up?"
"...Lord Aljen. There is something I wish to discuss with you in private."
"Hm?"
I blinked at the unexpected request, studying her intently, but her stoic face remained as unreadable as a sheet of ice.
"...Well, sure. Muriel, step outside for a moment."
"Understood, Milord."
As Muriel withdrew from the chamber, Wendy strode forward, rapidly closing the distance between us.
"So, what's on your mind?"
"......"
She didn't answer.
Instead, she shed her garments in one fluid motion, stripping naked like a snake shedding its skin.
"......"
Muriel pulled this stunt before, too.
Is this becoming a trend or something?