Chapter 112
Saint, You’re So Vulgar! – Chapter 112
The sharp blade caught the sunlight and gleamed fiercely.
In the instantly frozen atmosphere, the knights from Astarion's side startled and reached for their swords.
It was none other than the queen who stopped them.
"...Enough. Sheathe your swords."
The knights hesitated. They didn't immediately release their grips on their swords, and the queen narrowed her eyes at them.
Only then did the knights let go of their swords.
Versia also slid her sword back into its scabbard.
Asher felt his heart pounding wildly.
No matter how you looked at it, drawing swords out of nowhere to block her path could have sparked a diplomatic incident.
But that was only Asher's judgment.
The queen smiled sadly and bowed her head toward Asher.
"...I apologize for the rudeness. Surely you were informed in advance that during this period, the saintesses must keep their bodies pure."
Only then did Asher remember the Holy Purification Festival.
There was a rule prohibiting physical contact between guests and saintesses.
Throughout history, there had been several cases of foreign officials rushing at saintesses, so the church had issued very conservative guidelines on the matter.
Did she calculate that far ahead? Or was it simply an emotional reaction?
Asher glanced at Versia, but her expression revealed little.
She stood there with a cold, blank face, lips pressed tightly together.
As a knight, that was appropriate. Silence was a virtue of protection.
But in the end, it fell to Asher to smooth over the situation.
A short sigh escaped him inwardly, and then he bowed his head briefly.
"Thank you for understanding. We welcome the esteemed guests from Astarion."
It was a perfunctory remark.
The moment he lifted his head, that's when it caught his eye.
"...Thank you for your hospitality."
The queen, who resembled Versia, smiled mournfully. Her wistful air tugged at the heartstrings of anyone who saw it.
Thus ended their first meeting.
Leaving behind only an unsettled impression.
* * *
On the way back to their lodgings, the atmosphere between Asher and Versia was awkward.
Asher held back from speaking, unsure of Versia's true feelings.
That was when she finally spoke.
"You might have picked up on it, but I'm not on good terms with my family."
"...Yes."
"To be precise, it's disgust. Yeah, I find that woman disgusting."
It was a heavy emotion.
Asher's lips pressed shut.
"But actually, the one I truly resent is someone else."
"May I ask who?"
"My father. He's dead."
Asher let out a low groan.
He knew the story. The current ruler, Hermione de Astarion, had only inherited the throne after her husband, the previous king, died.
Asher didn't know much about the previous king either.
All he knew was that his death had coincided roughly with the time Versia was chosen as a saintess.
Listening to this story inevitably led to one thought.
The past she didn't want to talk about might be connected to the previous king's death.
And that guess was correct.
"I killed him. He was someone I had to kill."
That truth was immensely heavy.
How could it not be? At the time, Versia had been no more than five or six years old, even being generous.
Asher looked at her with a hardened expression.
But not a shred of emotion showed on Versia's face.
"Do you know why I'm telling you this?"
"......"
"I'll clash with the queen eventually. We might even end up talking alone. I figured you should have some prior info. Like why I despise the queen."
A bitter smile formed on her lips.
"Because she was always just a bystander. She turned a blind eye to her children falling into hell for her own self-preservation."
The emotion in her eyes was dark and viscous.
Her pupils flickered with profound feeling, as if gazing at a moment from the past.
She had said "children."
That implied something.
'The saintess's siblings...'
Only one crown prince was known.
And at the time of the previous king's death, he had barely been in the current queen's womb.
She had casually dropped a wealth of information.
If a five-year-old Versia had truly killed the previous king, and if she had siblings back then...
The reason for the murder was probably vengeance for her dead siblings.
The silence stretched on.
Versia repeatedly parted her lips as if to speak, then closed them again.
Asher waited for her next words.
Finally, the question came.
"Are you disillusioned with me?"
Asher stopped walking.
Versia took two more steps before stopping as well.
Was that what she had been worried about?
Certainly, Asher could understand that she carried a past beyond his wildest imagination.
Of course. Asher's own past was tragic too, but it was merely the beautiful end of cherished memories stained red.
Hers was different. From what he'd heard, every moment of her life had been drenched in blood.
He couldn't fully comprehend what he hadn't experienced.
But precisely because of that, Asher could say it confidently.
"I'm not disillusioned."
Asher's tone was exceedingly gentle.
The warmth in his gaze was the same.
Versia didn't look at him. She still had her back turned.
Asher saw her shoulders twitch.
So he added,
"All I know is you, Saintess. If you did it, then there must have been a just reason."
What could he do? The arm bends inward.
His words weren't disillusioned; they were sincere.
From the start, Asher had no reason to be disillusioned with her.
The Versia he knew had a foul mouth and was vulgar at times, but her actions were warm and noble enough to overshadow that.
Her heart was soft and full of affection.
She shook easily, but she didn't break easily.
Knowing that much about Versia was enough.
"It's needless worry. At least when it comes to how you treat me."
He didn't know if it comforted her. He knew painful memories weren't wounds healed by a few words.
Asher approached her and gently took her hand. He stroked the back of it.
"I'm always on your side, Saintess. So please believe in me too."
It was almost a whisper. Such embarrassing words still made his ears burn.
Versia slowly turned her head.
She met his eyes for a long while.
Soon, a smile spread across her face.
It was more relaxed than before.
"You know I always want to confirm it, even though I know you'll say it every time?"
"I can reassure you as many times as needed."
"I guess I was waiting for those words. Me."
The shadow hadn't fully lifted.
It probably wouldn't until those Astarion royals left.
But Versia wasn't sinking into gloom.
She showed her resolve to push through, in her own way.
"More importantly, you're sneakily holding on."
Asher played along with the teasing.
This time only.
"Re-, recently I haven't been doing it mu-, much..."
As he spoke, he poked her palm with his index finger.
Versia's eyes widened.
Asher felt his face burning up.
So he averted his gaze.
This kind of nonchalant play still felt utterly foreign.
He marveled at how Versia could say such things so casually every time.
"Want to try again?"
"...No."
He gently pulled his hand away.
Then he quickened his pace ahead.
He sensed Versia striding up behind him.
Her laughter followed like a shadow.
Asher fanned himself with his hand, trying to dispel the heat.
* * *
The Holy Purification Festival was right around the corner.
Asher's daily routine hadn't changed much, but it was easy to sense the unprecedented bustle filling the entire church.
Above all, the influx of external guests had a big impact.
With heads of state from various nations visiting, incidents and stories abounded both inside and outside the church.
The guests mostly spent time with the cardinals.
Otherwise, they engaged in grand discussions like the joint council hosted by Pope Igor.
Days like that continued right up until the eve of the festival, but Asher paid it little mind.
He simply focused on his own duties, as always.
It was one such afternoon.
"Ah..."
He ran into Queen Hermione in the church corridor.
Versia was away on other business at the moment.
A greeting and passing by would suffice.
Asher bowed his head briefly.
It was as he tried to walk past.
"Might I have a moment to speak?"
She didn't commit the discourtesy of grabbing Asher's arm.
Her attitude suggested she remembered the previous incident.
Asher felt troubled. But he couldn't refuse even that.
Right now, he was attending to church duties as a saintess's escort, and the queen was an official guest of the church.
"...I'd appreciate it if you keep it brief."
At his words, relief and joy surfaced on the queen's face.
It was an burdensome expression.