The Saintess's Secret
Saintess Nephelia sat in the carriage as she always did, gazing absently out the window while the Holy Knights escorted her to perform the ritual of charging the holy relics.
Her destination was Silverring, a thriving commercial city on the frontier of the Holy Kingdom of Ethelia.
The local branch of the Order stationed there was one of the kingdom’s most remote outposts, yet its proximity to the border of the Beldran Empire—a flourishing trade nation—had transformed the place into a vast city thronged with merchants.
Silver bars and spices hauled from the Beldran Empire’s silver mines, white furs and ice jewels brought by the tribes of the northern snowfields, gold-embroidered cloths and saffron dyes carried from the southern Desert Alliance, pearls and coral ornaments from the eastern maritime kingdoms, even instruments fashioned from pure white seashells and fragrant sea salt from distant island nations—goods from every corner of the world mingled here, flowed outward, and gathered again.
Because of that, the air of Silverring was always a complex blend.
The sweet scent of cinnamon and cloves, the smell of freshly tanned leather, the ring of hammers on iron mixed with exotic floral notes, and the briny tang of salt carried from far-off seas.
As the carriage passed through the massive stone gate at the town’s entrance, a landscape both familiar and somehow new every time swept past her eyes.
The market alleys were already bursting with people from early morning.
In the broad central square, gaudy red-and-gold tents erected by Beldran merchants stood in neat rows, while Ethelia pilgrims carrying chalices and rosaries wove between them.
Right beside them, a massive merchant from the northern snowfield tribes displayed a polar-bear pelt and called out to customers; faint northern runes embroidered in silver thread glimmered across its surface.
In front of the bakery, the aroma of freshly baked rye bread mingled with the scent of flatbreads glazed with sweet date-palm honey imported from the Desert Alliance.
The lively atmosphere seemed to lift Nephelia’s spirits; the nerves that had been stretched razor-sharp since departure began to ease a little.
Here, even a casual glance at newly opened shops and unfamiliar goods was enough to spark curiosity and loosen the tension.
And in that very moment, something that threw her into confusion caught her eye.
“……?”
It was a newly opened shop.
The signboard, painted in clean pink and black, read Water-Blue Secret Storehouse. Through the glass window the displayed goods were clearly visible, though too small to make out properly—yet one placard stuck to the glass stood out sharply.
Magic Adult Diapers That Never Need Changing — For Rent
1 Month: 80 Gold
Selling adult diapers so brazenly on a main street was already absurd enough, but magic diapers?
And the product itself… a white base adorned with cute ribbons and lace, a design that looked luxurious at a single glance.
Beneath the placard, fine silver lettering listed the features in meticulous detail:
Ultra-thin — Absolutely Undetectable!
24-Hour Worry-Free Absorption · Odor-Blocking Magic Applied
Skin Protection & Zero Irritation · Automatic Cleaning Function Built-In
Wear once and it stays like new for 30 days. No need to discard. No need to wash.
Nephelia swallowed hard.
The carriage was slowly rolling past the shop, yet her gaze refused to leave it.
In her mind the white diaper, the lace decorations swaying ever so slightly, kept circling without end.
……Eighty gold. What extravagant nonsense.
But her true feelings were different.
Nephelia had been chosen by the gods from the moment of her birth—a Saintess.
A face sculpted by divine blessing, a body sculpted by divine blessing, holy power bestowed directly by the gods; she was even called an incarnation of the divine.
And yet… not a single soul knew that she had long suffered from stress-induced urinary incontinence.
The reason she never took so much as a sip of water from morning onward whenever she set out on a long journey, the reason she always sat with her legs crossed even when people cursed her for arrogance—all of it stemmed from that.
So she had considered it more than once.
What if I just wore a diaper?
But the conclusion was always the same. A diaper would certainly help. Yet how and where would she dispose of a used one? Where would she hide the unused ones? What if the bulk showed through her clothes and someone noticed… no matter how hard she thought, there was no solution.
So every time she gave up.
Telling herself she simply had to endure.
But the placard right before her eyes was declaring that it would solve every one of those worries in a single stroke.
……Really?
After long hesitation, Nephelia finally reached a decision.
Just dropping by for a moment when she had time… wouldn’t that be all right?
The holy-relic charging ritual concluded smoothly, as it always did.
Kneeling before the central altar with her hands clasped, soft golden holy power flowed from her fingertips and filled the chalice to the brim.
The moment the chalice shone brilliantly and rang with a resonant tone, the surrounding priests and Holy Knights bowed their heads as one.
“You have worked hard again today, Saintess.”
The Branch Priest stepped forward and offered a courteous greeting.
He was a man in his mid-fifties with a gentle face, now in his eighth year of service at the Silverring branch.
Famous for his soft, impeccably polite speech, yet the dark nature hidden beneath was well known among those in the Order who knew such things.
“You have worked hard as well, Branch Priest. Today the holy power filling the chalice felt especially pure. It seems the aura of Silverring makes the gods’ grace shine all the more brightly.”
Nephelia answered with a smile.
That smile was, as always, perfectly polite and sacred.
“Is there any particular meal you desire? We have ice-mutton stew freshly brought from the north.”
“Ah, Father. Today I heard a somewhat troubling tale, so I intend to offer a fasting prayer.”
“As expected of the Saintess. Very well. And…”
The Branch Priest paused for a moment and lowered his voice slightly.
His eyes still looked kindly, yet somewhere in them a probing glint could be felt.
“When you stepped down from the carriage today you seemed a little different. Did something unpleasant happen on the road? Silverring is prosperous, after all, and full of all sorts of people. If there is anything we can do to help…”
Nephelia felt her heart plummet for an instant, yet her long-trained face did not so much as flicker.
“I am grateful for your thoughtful concern, Father. It seems the fatigue of the long journey has accumulated a little and my inner state showed on the surface. It is nothing of consequence. By the gods’ grace I shall recover soon.”
“Is that so. I am glad to hear it. Still, should any inconvenience arise, please call for me at any time. I will come running even late at night.”
“Those words alone lighten my heart. Thank you, Father.”
The Branch Priest bowed deeply once more and withdrew.
Until his back disappeared at the end of the corridor, Nephelia kept her smile in place.
But the moment the door closed, that smile slowly faded and tension took its place.
“Snake of a man.”
She locked the door and slowly opened the wardrobe.
The Saintess’s ceremonial robes were far too splendid and eye-catching.
A white mantle embroidered with gold thread, a long robe with silver ornaments, the holy emblem engraved upon the breast.
If she walked into that alley dressed like this, by tomorrow morning the rumor would have spread through all of Silverring.
So she chose the most inconspicuous clothes she owned.
A gray woolen cloak, a hood she could pull down deep.
Underneath, an ordinary black tunic and trousers.
Something resembling the training garb of the Holy Knights—commoner’s clothing one might see anywhere.
She changed and stood before the mirror.
When she pulled the hood low, half her face was hidden.
Her golden hair was well concealed inside the hood; only her eyes glimmered softly in the darkness.
“……This should be enough.”
She carefully opened the window so it would make no sound.
Second-floor height.
Nephelia gripped the sill and leaned her body slightly forward.
Below lay the narrow alley of the Order’s rear courtyard—a place almost no one ever walked.
She drew a deep breath and leapt out the window.
The moment her feet touched the ground a very light impact traveled through her soles, but holy power wrapped around them and cushioned the shock.
She glanced around; fortunately no one was there.
Pulling the hood even deeper, she slipped out of the alley at a quick pace.
Tracing her memory, she headed toward the market.
As evening fell, Silverring’s market revealed another face entirely.
Most of the lively daytime merchants had scattered to inns or taverns; now the streets filled with shops whose lamps were lit, night vendors, and those conducting secretive deals.
Nephelia blended into the crowd and walked naturally.
Afraid someone might recognize her, she deliberately kept her eyes lowered, as though she were a person on her way to do something wicked.
And at last—
she stood before the Water-Blue Secret Storehouse.
The shop looked quieter and more secretive than it had by day.
Inside the glass window a faint violet light glowed, and “discreet” goods she had not noticed earlier shone softly on the display shelves.
Above the door hung a small placard that read “Open for Business.”
Nephelia hesitated for a long while in front of the door, her hand repeatedly touching the handle only to fall away again.
Her heart pounded so hard her chest felt tight.
After several such moments of wavering,
“Oh my, are you a customer?”
A seductive voice from behind froze Nephelia’s body in an instant.
She slowly turned her head. A woman with long water-blue hair stood there smiling.
Her red eyes glimmered softly in the darkness.
Yet there had been no sound of footsteps; she had no idea when the woman had appeared.
Even though Nephelia had pulled her hood low, she somehow felt those eyes piercing straight through her.
“N-no, that… that is…”
The words would not come.
Her throat had gone completely dry.
The woman tilted her head slightly as she regarded the flustered Nephelia.
Even that playful gesture was elegant and refined.
“Don’t just stand outside like that—come in and make yourself comfortable.”
She pushed the door open naturally.
A small bell chimed.
Instinctively Nephelia tried to take a step back, but the woman’s hand lightly caught her elbow and drew her forward.
The touch was extremely gentle, yet strangely her body moved inside of its own accord.
“This way, please.”
She guided Nephelia into the shop.
The moment the door closed, the market noise outside was completely shut out.
In its place a sweet yet subtle incense filled her nose.
The interior was far cozier and more secretive than what she had glimpsed through the glass by day.
Black velvet drapes hung along the walls, and the faint violet lighting softly illuminated the ceiling and display shelves.
The space itself seemed to wrap a person in gentle warmth.
Leading Nephelia toward a small sofa in the center, the woman continued lightly,
“Please, sit comfortably. No one pays any mind to anything here.”
Nephelia still did not remove her hood as she perched on the very edge of the sofa.
She demurely brought her legs together and folded her trembling hands over her knees to hide them.
The woman who appeared to be the shop’s owner sat on the opposite sofa and smiled.
“Now then—what brings you to our Water-Blue Secret Storehouse?”
Nephelia felt those red eyes gleam with a bewitching light.