The Reason the Saint Is Vegetarian
The Reason the Saint Is Vegetarian
I had a brief history with Saint Amelia.
Early last year, less than a year after she had been chosen as the saintess, she paid a visit to the Imperial Princess's Knight Order.
"Lucas."
"Yes, Commander."
"An important guest from the Order arrives tomorrow."
"Tomorrow, huh... Ah. That day."
"Good. You're aware."
"There's only one reason the Order sends people discreetly on a weekend. So who's coming today?"
With less than a year left until discharge—practically in my terminal leave already—I dragged my slippers across the floor in duty fatigues and went to see Commander Luke.
The commander didn't approve of the way I looked, but what was he going to do.
I had less than a year until I was out.
If I wanted to renew my oath with the Princess's Knight Order, this was exactly the kind of appearance I could never let them see.
They'd have refused the oath on grounds of lax discipline.
But I wasn't a frontline knight, and I spent most of my working hours in the kitchen, so.
"...Ahem. The Saintess herself will be coming. She abstains from meat for religious reasons, so choose the menu carefully. And."
Luke looked me up and down and cleared his throat before continuing.
"She is an honored guest. Dress yourself properly."
"Understood."
"I'll send about ten men from the mess support detail. Put them to work cleaning the kitchen and prepping ingredients."
"If only you sent me that many on a regular basis."
"Apologies. They're combat personnel."
And so I met Amelia.
A girl wrapped in pure light, drawing reverence from everyone around her.
Amelia was another figure I recognized from the novel.
Not a central character.
A woman who appeared occasionally when the story explored Princess Diana's past.
The messenger of the Order—the only faction that supported Princess Diana before she ascended to empress.
From what I remembered, she vanished during a pilgrimage meant to deliver a message of support for the princess, and was later declared dead.
She was so firmly in Diana's camp that people said the Order would have backed Diana if she had survived.
It was undeniable that Diana grew more hostile toward others after her death.
Watching a character I'd only ever seen in the pages of a novel walk into the order, I studied her closely.
She clasped her hands together and offered a prayer to the gods.
The reason for the saintess's visit was the Baptism of Blessing that took place every two years.
A time of prayer to ask the gods to safeguard the knight order that protected the empire.
As part of the ritual, she would eat food consecrated by the order. A religious event, in short.
Why she had to come on a weekend for it, I never did understand.
It made no difference to me—I got called in to cook whether it was a weekend or a weekday—but the rank and file were grumbling about it nonstop.
After the ceremony, Amelia came to the mess hall.
"The meal is an essential part of the rite. Everyone except the cook, please leave."
By law, everyone except the person who prepared the food had to wait outside the hall, which meant I ended up alone with her.
Steamed rice, seasoned wild greens, stir-fried mushrooms, radish salad, and even stir-fried kimchi.
I'd thrown in everything I could make vegetarian.
If I'd had a little more time and budget, I'd have added grilled deodeok, but time was tight.
"This is delicious."
She ate in small, neat bites, and her voice held what sounded like admiration.
I didn't buy it for a second.
She wasn't saying it because she meant it.
If she had, her reaction would have been different.
A faint flare of the nostrils before she spoke. Savoring each mouthful as she chewed. A startled jolt of surprise as she looked down at her food like she was seeing it for the first time.
None of that was there.
Just a prim smile as she ate, like she was performing a duty.
As a cook, I couldn't let it go.
"Saintess, you're not currently on pilgrimage. Why do you abstain from meat?"
"Excuse me?"
"From what I understand, the Order's doctrines don't actually forbid meat in everyday life."
"You know the doctrines well."
"The work gets dull. Reading scripture turned out to be reasonably entertaining."
"Why I don't eat meat..."
She gazed down at the vegetarian spread in front of her.
"Because it's delicious."
"I know that's a lie."
"Pardon?"
"Forgive my impertinence. But in the eyes of a cook, Saintess, you're not enjoying this meal."
"It's good. Surprisingly good."
"No. If you were eating it because you truly found it delicious, your reaction wouldn't look like this."
When I looked her straight in the eye, Amelia turned her head away.
"Ahem... You see quite clearly. I can't deny it."
"What's the reason? If it's something I can help with, I will."
I still don't know why I said that.
Looking back now, I think I felt a pang of sympathy for her, unable to take any real pleasure in her food.
She stared at me, startled.
"You're every bit as bold as your powers of observation suggest."
"People call me reckless fairly often."
"...I suppose it's all right if one person knows my secret."
Her face had gone red.
"Just promise me you'll never repeat a word of this outside this room."
"How about we trade one secret each?"
"What?"
"I'll start: I'm leaving the Princess's Knight Order next year."
"Joining another order?"
"No. I'm quitting the work entirely and opening a restaurant somewhere in the countryside. I'll be leaving the capital."
"...I see. That couldn't have been an easy decision."
I noticed it.
The way she fidgeted before she spoke.
"I, well, I think eating meat is too... lewd."
"...Excuse me?"
"It's—you know. You put the meat in your mouth. But the word for meat also... means other... things."
"I'm not following."
"No, it's—it's... I once read in a sensual novel. They called a man's... thing... a meat... rod. A stick of flesh. I-it was too embarrassing..."
Her face deepened to crimson.
"And a woman's breasts are called meat... jars. Pouches of flesh. It's indecent..."
This woman is completely insane.
That was my first impression of Amelia.
And then.
"Oh? Lucas?"
"It's good to see you again, Saint Amelia."
I met her again.
***
"You really did leave the knight order and open a restaurant, just as you said."
"It was my dream."
"I thought I'd never see you again."
"So what brings you here? And what on earth was that state you were in?"
I looked at Amelia, now clean and put-together, and asked.
When she'd first shown up at the restaurant, she hardly looked fit to be called a saintess.
Her formal vestments were nowhere to be seen; she'd arrived in nothing but the nun's underhabit, torn in half a dozen places.
She looked like she'd been wandering alone in the forest for days without a chance to wash.
Andrea had taken her off to the bath to get cleaned up, and it was a full thirty minutes before the two of them reemerged into the dining room.
"......"
Amelia kept her mouth shut.
From the look on her face, she was debating whether she should say anything at all.
"Shall we exchange confessions again?"
"P-please forget about that!"
"How am I supposed to forget? You said some remarkably bold things."
"...H-heeek!"
She buried her blushing face in her hands and flailed helplessly for a moment before hanging her head.
Gurgle.
"C-can I have some food? I'm hungry..."
"Right away. What would you like?"
"...Anything without meat. I don't care what."
"Is that because of what came to mind earlier?"
"No. I'm on pilgrimage."
"Pilgrimage?"
"Yes."
Wait. If that's true—
Did that mean the incident that was supposed to happen to her was happening right now?
'Or maybe it already happened.'
I schooled my expression and studied her.
"Is it truly something you can't speak of?"
"Yes. Even to you, Lucas, I can't tell you."
"...You were attacked by a noble of the opposition faction while carrying out your pilgrimage to deliver the Order's message of support for the princess."
She flinched, a visible tremor running through her.
Her small hands curled into fists, and she bit her lip.
"P-please don't press any further. This could put you in grave danger."
"You're worried the opposition will come attacking this place?"
"...Yes. That's why I asked the knights to keep my presence in this territory a secret."
So that was why they'd backed down without a fuss.
I'd been wondering why knights who normally would've been shouting about escorting her to the viscount's manor were suddenly so quiet.
"...Was it the southern nobles?"
She gave no reaction.
"The western nobles, then."
At that, she jolted and looked at me.
"A noble from the west with some real power to throw around. That narrows the candidates down to three. Lord Littleca, Lord Orihen, and lastly—Lord Bellosa."
Her whole body went rigid at the name Bellosa.
Honestly. A heart that transparent.
They raised her too soft, coddled her as the saintess.
"Hoo, I wonder who it could be. At any rate, it was clearly the work of someone who opposes the princess becoming crown princess."
"...I need to get to the capital. No—to the city of Lilith."
I shook my head.
"Absolutely not. Stay here for a few days."
"...What? But if I stay here too long, Bello—the opposition lord will certainly attack."
"He won't know."
"Pardon?"
"Andrea will have erased every trace. Won't you?"
She waved a hand in confirmation.
I kept my voice even, but inside I was reeling at the implications of what had happened to her.
'In the original timeline, she was supposed to go missing right around now.'
She'd disappeared and never reappeared alive.
The world learned of her death years later, when her saintess's emblem was discovered in the forest—long after Princess Diana had become a tyrant.
'Once she became a tyrant, things spiraled even further.'
One thing was certain: Saint Amelia's disappearance had been one of the triggers that set Princess Diana on the path to tyranny.
So if Saint Amelia didn't disappear—didn't die—and instead made it back alive, could things change?
At the very least, it would give Diana one more brake to keep her from becoming a tyrant.
'My actions alone won't change history.'
There were limits to what one person could alter.
But still.
I'd come face-to-face with her.
I'd seen a trigger that could shift the future.
How could I just let it pass?
'I'll get her back to the capital alive.'
If I had help, there was no reason it would fail.
I believed that.
That was when it happened.
Gurgle.
"U-um, so when do I get that food..."
"Ah, sorry. I'll get it ready right away."
First things first—feed her.