The Brightest Smile of the Day
"An errand?"
"That's right."
Raksha nodded and beckoned Nasha closer. Noticing how she kept glancing at the children, she leaned in until her ear was near his mouth. Only then did he continue.
"It'll soon be a year since Arsen and Arni first arrived."
Time had passed that quickly? Nasha's gaze drifted to the pair, who were now laughing with the other children as they left the church.
"Wouldn't Sister Miria be better for it than me?"
Miria, who handled nearly all the cooking, seemed the obvious choice. Nasha couldn't understand why Raksha was asking her specifically.
Raksha scanned their surroundings once more, confirming that Miria had already left with the children.
"Those merchants are coming to the village today."
"Those guys? The ones who kept hitting on Sister Miria last time?"
If that was the case, then yes, Nasha was the right person for the job.
Raksha handed her a slip of paper listing the needed items along with a pouch of coins.
"Is this enough? It doesn't look like much."
"It's not so little that you need to worry about it. I've earned plenty over the years and spent almost none."
He didn't seem to be lying. Even a former Holy Knight Commander who carried the will of the divine would have received a substantial sum, she supposed.
"I'll be back soon."
"Where are you going?"
The moment she stepped outside, the children swarmed her, bombarding her with questions. They must have been eavesdropping right by the door, curious about the conversation.
"We want to come too!"
"Buy me something yummy!"
"And a toy!"
"Now, now. No can do. Uncle Raksha doesn't have any money."
At Nasha's single firm statement, every child clamped their mouth shut at once.
The first to speak again was Ceres.
"Is the director a beggar?"
A word that had never been uttered in front of the children slipped out.
Surprised eyes from Raksha and a deeply furrowed brow from Miria turned toward Nasha. She shook her head with an aggrieved expression.
Perhaps sensing her sincerity, Miria approached, knelt down, and met her eyes.
"Where did you learn a word like that?"
"Some uncle in the village said it."
"Which uncle?"
Nasha flinched. Miria wore a faint smile, but fury simmered just beneath it.
Whether he noticed or not, Ceres innocently gave up the name.
"The uncle who was with Uncle Hans."
"The brown-haired one?"
Ceres thought for a moment, then nodded firmly.
Nasha's eyes met Raksha's. From his reaction, it was clearly the merchant they'd been talking about.
"You mustn't use words like that."
"What does it mean?"
"It means people who don't have money."
"That's true, but it's a nasty way of saying it, so you shouldn't use it anymore. Understand?"
"Yes."
Only after hearing the reply did Miria rise and lead the children away.
"Um..."
"I know what you're going to say. I'll just give them a proper warning and leave it at that."
"I'd appreciate it."
With a small sigh, Raksha pressed a few more coins into Nasha's hand. When she looked up at him questioningly, he simply shrugged.
"Have to protect the man's pride somehow. Especially after someone called him penniless. And if any letters have arrived for the church while you're out, bring them back with you."
A large basket in hand, Nasha headed toward the village while two pairs of eyes followed her from behind.
"The merchant must have arrived today, then?"
"You noticed? I tried not to let it show."
Miria let out a light sigh at Raksha's awkward smile.
"The only time you ever send Nasha on errands is when those people come around, isn't it?"
"That's not true. I send her whenever there's something heavy to carry, too."
"Then maybe you should handle those heavy things, Director."
Under Miria's sharp glare, Raksha felt the back of his neck grow hot. As he scratched at his gray-streaked hair, his eyes caught Miria watching Nasha's retreating figure with clear concern.
"If you're that worried, why not just tell her?"
"I can't. She'd go soft again in no time."
"Nothing will happen, right?"
"Of course not. Who do you think taught her?"
"Why not have an actual holy knight instruct her?"
Miria still remembered the struggle of prying young Nasha away from Raksha when the girl had begged him to teach her the sword. Nasha had shown real talent for physical work, so Raksha had taught her various things, but he had never once placed a blade in her hands.
"What can we do? She's a girl. She can't become a holy knight."
"That's true, but..."
"Besides, Nasha must walk the path of a nun."
"Because she'll become a saintess?"
Miria covered her mouth and laughed softly.
"I thought you'd stopped saying that for a while. It's been ages since I last heard it."
"I'm telling you, it's true. You still don't believe me?"
"Who knows? The children are calling me, so I'd better go."
Nasha's figure had already vanished from sight. Raksha closed his eyes, letting the vivid memory of that moment wash over him once more: the sight of her amidst the burning ruins, brilliant divine power wrapped around her small body, those sparkling green eyes opening wide.
Perhaps it was thanks to the peddlers bringing in fresh goods, but the small village market buzzed with more energy than usual.
Though Raksha had given her a task, preparing for Arsen and Arni's one-year anniversary party took priority. If even one item was missing, Nasha knew exactly where Miria's wrath would land.
A shiver ran through her. Shaking off the chill, Nasha checked Raksha's list again while scanning the stalls.
No missing items.
She compared the paper and the basket repeatedly, making sure she hadn't forgotten anything. Only after triple-checking did she feel confident enough to tie the basket securely.
Now to see if any letters arrived for the church, and then...
"Hey, isn't that the little nun from the church?"
I was hoping I wouldn't run into them.
The familiar voice and crude tone made her turn. A group of peddlers from another village leaned against their carriage. The man who had spoken waved at her with a grin.
"Whoa, time really flies, doesn't it? Our little lady has grown into quite the fine young woman."
His vulgar joke drew loud laughter from the entire group, filling the market square.
It was true that she had once been scrawny and frail. But between Raksha and Miria's devoted care and the natural growth spurt of youth, even Nasha had to admit the change was remarkable. That didn't make the comment any less unpleasant.
She hadn't understood it before, but now that she experienced it firsthand, she finally got why Miria hated being hit on so much.
"Excuse me."
"Hm?"
Her call drew all their wandering eyes. A few sent sticky, unpleasant gazes her way, but Nasha remembered Raksha's request and kept her voice calm.
"I heard you were bothering my sister last time."
"Sister?"
The man seemed to search his memory for a moment before the context clicked. He let out a knowing sound.
"That pretty nun. What was her name again? Maria?"
"Miria."
"Right, right. That was it."
"And you taught strange words to one of our children."
"Strange words?"
He looked genuinely confused, as if he hadn't even registered that part. Pressing the issue probably wouldn't make him realize his mistake, so Nasha let it drop.
"Anyway, I'd appreciate it if you stayed away from my sister and the children from now on."
"Why should a little lady like you get to decide that?"
She waited, wondering if they even deserved a response.
"What's wrong with telling her that marrying me would be way better than playing babysitter for a bunch of orphans in this backwater village? She'd have a much better time at night with me than with some gray-haired old man."
Birds of a feather, huh.
Believer or not, none of them showed any sign of stopping the man from speaking so crudely. Instead they all burst out laughing, clearly enjoying themselves.
Then someone whispered in the man's ear. His laughter erupted again as he turned back to her.
While Nasha debated what kind of warning to give, the man threw out something she hadn't expected.
"You're still not an official nun yet, young lady?"
Her frown shifted toward the villager who had been whispering. On closer look, it was Hans's son—the one Hans had been worrying about lately for going down the wrong path.
At least he can't meet my eyes. Means he knows he did something wrong.
Nasha felt a pang of sympathy for Hans, who would have his hands full disciplining his son.
"From what I can see, you don't seem to have any talent at all. Maybe you should just give up. I've never heard of anyone taking so long to manifest their divine power. Could it be that your faith is lacking?"
The man's mocking gaze slid over Nasha's body like a wet tongue.
"Ah~ Or maybe you're after me? That would explain feeling jealous of your sister."
Seeing her momentarily speechless, the man grew bolder, his voice gaining strength.
"You're not quite as good as your sister, but you'd still be worth my time. So how about it? Want to come with me right now? I'll make sure you enjoy yourself."
This must have been the line he'd been building toward. The laughter that followed was louder and coarser than before, ringing painfully in Nasha's ears.
Her reason, which had maintained perfect composure until now, issued one final warning. Then she handed the reins to instinct.
Thud.
The heavy basket slipped from Nasha's fingers and hit the ground. The loud impact echoed through the market.
"Ah."
That was close. I almost lost control there.
She carefully picked the basket back up and walked over to Helen at the herb shop. Nasha handed it to her.
Helen accepted it with a worried look and whispered, "Don't be too harsh."
Nasha flashed her a thumbs-up.
"I'll help boost your sales today."
The man stood up among the group, who had already sensed the shift in the air.
"You're really coming with me?"
He was the only one who still didn't understand the situation.
"Hey."
At the change in her voice, the man finally flinched, finally reading the mood.
"Uncle Raksha told me to only give a warning. But back in the day, he also used to say this."
"Say what?"
With every step Nasha took toward him, the man shrank back, overwhelmed by her presence.
"Kids who don't listen usually understand once you hit them."
Nasha raised a clenched fist toward the man and smiled. It was the brightest smile she had worn all day.