The Suspiciously Suspicious Saint — 4
We traveled by boat as far as Busan.
Along the way we transferred once at Geoje Island, which cost us a little time.
From Busan to Seoul, though, the journey was as swift and comfortable as could be — thanks to the military helicopter the soldiers had waiting for us.
"It has been an honor to meet you like this."
A middle-aged man with rank insignia on his collar saw us off with extreme care.
The caution that outweighed any greed told me roughly what sort of man he was.
"Thank you. We arrived safely thanks to you."
The Saint offered a polite greeting and shook hands with the people present.
It looked a little like those politicians who only come out to shake hands during election season — except the sincerity packed into her gesture was something those men could never match.
After leaving the base we climbed into a waiting car.
It was black and massive, every inch the look of an official vehicle.
The Saint took the front passenger seat.
The black-clad man and I sat in the back, gazing out at the scenery.
I wondered if this seating arrangement was right, but since she had wanted it that way I kept quiet.
"The banquet is scheduled to begin around half past six this evening. Since you have time until then, I recommend resting comfortably at the hotel."
The man at the wheel spoke.
He was someone sent by the Korean Awakened Association, not the government.
He had introduced himself that way, so it was probably the truth.
"Thank you for your consideration."
"Yes. Ah… if I may ask, who are the gentlemen in the back? I was so flustered earlier that I never got the chance to inquire."
He glanced at us in the rearview — only for a fraction of a second, not enough to count as careless driving.
"They've kindly come along for my security detail. There was no need for them to go to the trouble, but so many people insisted they accompany me…"
"Ah, I see."
He nodded and closed his mouth.
I could tell he was forcing down the urge to dig deeper — afraid of making the Saint feel bothered.
A tourist guide rather than a bodyguard.
Why lump me together with the man in sunglasses?
I puzzled over it alone for a moment and roughly found the answer.
It was basically her way of telling me to play French and dodge any annoying questions.
Most people couldn't speak French, after all.
Well, thanks a lot.
She was even considering my preferences — and paying me on top of it.
She had to rank in the top three of bosses I would be happy to serve.
"We've arrived."
After a long stretch of road the car stopped in front of a famous hotel.
The complete absence of people nearby suggested information control had been thorough.
If word had gotten out that a famous person was coming, reporters would have swarmed the place.
"Yes, thank you."
We got out and headed straight into the hotel.
The Saint handled everything herself — the front-desk check-in, the greetings to the hotelier showing us the way.
Thanks to that, we reached the Saint's private suite in complete comfort.
"Whoa."
How is this place so big?
The moment I stepped inside my eyes went round of their own accord.
The man in sunglasses looked completely unimpressed, as if this were nothing new.
Of course he would.
Guarding the Saint at close range, he must have seen every kind of luxury imaginable.
"They've given us far too extravagant a room."
"I believe it couldn't be helped. If Your Holiness were to take an ordinary room, it would cause a considerable disturbance. Isolating you this way is, in my view, the correct approach."
When the Saint muttered with a sigh, the man in sunglasses answered in French.
His voice was stiff yet firm — the sound of a man with a straight spine.
I was a little surprised he spoke so well.
I had expected the Saint to answer in French as well.
Instead she replied quite casually in Korean.
Apparently the man named Henri could understand Korean after all.
"I understand. Still, it feels like a waste of money. I never asked for this kind of luxury."
"Have you still not grown accustomed to it?"
"You know full well what the family education was like, Henri. That influence is large."
"The dying wish that she be raised as a commoner, and that she take a commoner's sensibility as her standard. I know it well."
I had heard those words somewhere before.
I tilted my head, blinking as I dug through my memories.
Ah. After I had properly settled into a household with Joan of Arc…
I remembered saying something like that while looking at our sleeping child.
"There's no help for it. It's a shame, but I think I should cover the room charge myself."
Her eyes hardened with resolve.
She showed not the slightest intention of backing down.
Henri, the man in sunglasses, asked in his flat voice.
"The Korean government side will refuse most strenuously, will they not?"
"If I accept excessive kindness simply because I am an honored guest, it will become a burden. And people will make use of that burden."
"A reasonable point, Your Holiness."
"Of course your opinion is also valid, Henri. I won't step back completely, so we'll settle for half the cost. That should be enough."
When the conversation seemed finished, the Saint's gaze turned to me.
Her face carried an apology.
"I'm sorry. We went on about our own business for too long, didn't we?"
"Not at all. I'm not sure if this is the right way to put it… but I found myself listening without meaning to. It was interesting."
"Pardon? Can you understand French?"
The Saint's eyes flew wide open.
Resolve and apology vanished; only curiosity and astonishment filled her expression and her pupils.
"I can catch a little, that's all."
"Wow. My goodness. That's amazing. I truly had no idea you could understand French. I don't think the base commander ever mentioned it either."
"I never told him. The job requirements weren't anything special, so I didn't put it on my résumé either."
Being a base janitor only required a healthy body, a decent character, a clean criminal record, and a passing score on the psychological test.
"That's true. That makes sense. Still… it's two in the afternoon now, isn't it?"
"Yes. Two p.m."
"So if we allow a full hour each way for travel, we still have a fair amount of time left, don't we? And we already finished lunch properly."
She brought up the leftover time with a look of quiet expectation.
I could roughly guess what she was after.
"You're right, but… were you thinking of sightseeing in the spare time?"
"Would that be all right?"
"No reason it wouldn't be. As long as we aren't late."
"Then let's leave right away. Where are you going to take us?"
The Saint's eyes sparkled with anticipation.
If I had truly had no ideas at all, the pressure would have made me break into a cold sweat.
"Shall we start with the safe choice — Gwanghwamun Square?"
"Anything is fine. Henri! Hurry and change your clothes. A suit stands out too much."
"Understood."
Without the slightest hesitation Henri picked up the suitcase he had left in the corner and left the room.
Being a suite, it was spacious enough to have many rooms — and plenty of space to change clothes.
"I'll put on a bit of a disguise myself. It's not much, but better than nothing."
The Saint squatted down and opened the suitcase she had laid flat.
With practiced hands she braided her long hair into a braid bun… a bread-roll bun, put on a hat with a bit of a brim, and tucked the remaining hair underneath.
"How is it? Do I look well covered?"
She stood up from her crouch and asked.
Every strand of hair had vanished completely inside the hat.
"Your hair is completely invisible."
"Right? I'm pretty good at tying my hair, you know."
While the Saint beamed with a shy little laugh, Henri finished changing and came back out.
A long shirt and pants.
Tall and well-built as he was, even a plain outfit looked strikingly elegant on him.
Except for those damned sunglasses, which he was still wearing.
"Then let's head out right away."
"Yes. I'll guide you."
I left the room first, and the Saint followed right on my heels, full of excitement.
Henri came along as well, walking level with the Saint's shoulder.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and opened the map.
Thanks to the map links I had looked up in advance, I could guide them without fumbling.
In the old days you would have had to see and feel a place with your own body.
Being able to navigate even an unfamiliar neighborhood with ease was genuinely convenient.
Even which subway to take in a place I had never visited, which exit to use — all of it was right there.
"Wow…! Whose statue is that modeled after?"
Our safe first stop.
The moment we reached Gwanghwamun Square, the Saint's eyes lit up.
In an age so full of unusual people she didn't stand out much.
If she hadn't been disguised it might have been different.
From a distance she just looked like any foreign tourist.
"That's King Sejong… the one who created Korea's own writing system. Hangul."
"A writing system? My goodness! What an extraordinary person!"
"He is."
Mention King Sejong and national pride floods in.
And if you talk national pride, it's hard not to bring up King Sejong.
Of course he was extraordinary.
"And the statue up high over there — who is that?"
The Saint's finger pointed to a spot opposite King Sejong's statue.
The figure standing as if resting a sword atop a tower was striking.
"That's the statue of Admiral Yi Sun-sin. He was extraordinary as well."
When I told them the famous story of the thirteen ships, they both looked like they couldn't believe it.
Henri, standing beside her, wore a skeptical expression too.
"Is something like that truly possible?"
"It is a fact recorded in the history books. Even the records from the side that suffered the defeat make it perfectly clear."
When I brought history itself into it, the Saint's eyes went round.
Henri's eyebrows twitched as he showed his surprise as well.
"Then we'll move on to the next place. I think we've seen everything worth seeing here."
I led the two foreigners toward the Hanok Village.
It was a walkable distance, so we went on foot.
"There are so many people. The square earlier was the same."
"It's a fairly famous tourist area, so that might be why. This is my first time coming here myself."
"Your first time?"
"Yes. I've never been very interested in sightseeing, and ever since I started the janitor work I haven't felt like going far."
We talked as we walked through the Hanok Village.
I also took pictures for them while we followed the course recommended online.
She seemed to have a real interest in photography.
Even Henri would stand next to the Saint and take pictures with her from time to time.
He didn't show it openly, but he looked like he was quietly enjoying himself.
Watching them take photos together, he clearly wasn't just a simple bodyguard.
Besides that we went to Insadong Ssamziegil, Gyeongbokgung Palace, and so on.
It was my first visit to those places too, so they were interesting, but I didn't feel the same wonder the Saint and Henri did.
Even if I had lived as a European for a long time, my roots were still Korean.
"Let's take a short break. I'll treat you to coffee at least."
"What? You really don't have to. This is exactly when you should feel free to use the card."
"Thank you for the consideration. Still, I want to treat you — I can't very well spend Your Holiness's money."
It was a bit expensive, but not so much that I couldn't afford it.
And since I rarely had places to spend money, I had some room to spare.
So I found a table in a corner of the first floor and bought the drinks.
"I will enjoy this."
When I brought the tray of lattes, Henri's lips parted.
The greeting was short and dry, yet it carried real sincerity.
The Saint, on the other hand, hesitated to the very end before finally accepting the cup as if she had no choice.
"I'm sorry. I'll enjoy it."
"Compared to the card Your Holiness gave me, this is pocket change, so don't worry about it. I'll just order something expensive for myself."
"You absolutely must."
When I teased her a little shamelessly, the Saint's expression brightened.
She finally looked at ease.
"It's delicious."
"I'm glad. I just picked a place at random, so I couldn't be sure."
"We got lucky, then."
A faint curve touched the Saint's lips.
With the hat on, it was a smile you could only see if you were close.
Wearing a hat indoors.
Some might call it a breach of manners, but no one paid it any mind.
"I wonder what it would have been like if cafés like this had existed long ago."
"In Korea? Or back in Your Holiness's homeland?"
"France."
Clack. The Saint set her cup down and spoke.
It was a fairly interesting topic, so I paid attention.
"If it were me, I would mainly serve juices. Wild strawberries I picked, or the juice of fruit gathered from the mountains. Grapes wouldn't be bad either, though they leave a strong impression as wine ingredients."
"And in winter?"
"You would serve fruit you had dried in advance. If you had the means, preserving them in honey would be nice as well."
"Then… of those, which would you like best?"
Lightness and expectation colored the Saint's voice, as if she found it fascinating.
Her face said that disappointment or delight would split sharply depending on my answer.
Even so, I didn't think there would be any real downside, so I spoke without pressure.
She wasn't the sort of person to get upset over something this small.
"If it's a menu you could enjoy at a winter café… apple pie with herbal tea sounds nice."
Crack!
The moment I finished answering—
A crack ran through the cup the Saint was holding.