A Small Crisis. A Major Crisis.
It was obvious I'd been out of my mind for a moment. Standing atop the bell tower, pleasantly drunk, I'd run into some nameless middle-aged man. I'd been foolish enough to actually listen to the ridiculous advice he'd offered: if women kept pestering me, I should simply draw a line by claiming I already had someone I intended to marry. Had my mind been clear, I would have dismissed it as nonsense and forgotten it within a day. It was such a flimsy trick. But my brain, soaked in alcohol and thoroughly pickled, had been in no condition to make sound judgments. By the time I sobered up, a pair of expensive rings—purchased outright, no installments—sat conspicuously in my hand. Never making mistakes while drunk had been my sole point of pride. Now another small scar had been carved into my already overcrowded self-esteem.
"What am I supposed to do with these······"
Creak, creak. I muttered to myself in regret, repeatedly opening and closing the ring box. The Hero, still dazed, was safely tucked away in my room for now. I'd also managed to calm the nuns—who'd swarmed me like a school of carp at feeding time—and send them on their way. Yet just as an earthquake is inevitably followed by aftershocks, the thought of the future disasters this incident would trigger left my heart growing heavier by the moment.
Of course, I'd begged the nuns not to breathe a word of today's events to anyone. Still, I knew all too well how starved they were for talk of romance, having been repressed by their ascetic vows. It was only a matter of time before the absurd rumor that I had a fiancée spread throughout the entire monastery. But frowning and brooding over it wouldn't produce any solutions, so I pushed the problem aside for the moment.
"For now, let's just deal with the immediate fire······"
"Where exactly have you been until now?"
"I-I'm sorry······"
The nun's reproachful voice pinched my conscience sharply. No matter the circumstances, the fact remained that I had arrived far later than scheduled. All I could do was repeat my sincere apologies over and over.
"I'm sorry, Sister. You see, the thing is······"
"The smell of cigarettes······"
At that moment, a chilling voice—like a sharp awl—snapped my drifting attention back into focus.
"Father······ Did you smoke······?"
"Pardon? Ah! W-well······"
"Please answer my question honestly. Were you smoking until just a moment ago?"
"······Does it show?"
"Haah······"
My half-hearted excuse was met with a sigh so heavy I half expected the floor to cave in. The nun pressed a hand to her deeply furrowed brow, her entire demeanor radiating extreme displeasure.
"Father. Have I not warned you repeatedly? Smoking and drugs are profane acts that defile the sacred body God personally bestowed upon humanity. I was quite pleased when you claimed to have reformed and successfully quit. And now you've reached for that profanity again. What will you do if the Saintess catches the scent? Aren't you ashamed to face your future children?"
Apparently the cigarette smell clinging to me had been particularly offensive. With her arms folded, the nun unleashed a barrage of sharp words, her bristling posture reminiscent of a wife scolding her husband. 'Whoever ends up as her husband is going to have a rough time.' The disrespectful thought slipped out before I could stop it—probably stirred up by the wedding rings I'd been fidgeting with all the way here. Still, indulging in such thoughts while being scolded was tantamount to suicide, so I bit my lower lip and banished the notion.
"Since you arrived late, I've prepared a fresh batch of stew. It's quite hot now, so please be careful when feeding the Saintess. Also, she's been spitting out disliked ingredients like bell peppers and hiding them under the bowl lately. Make sure she actually chews and swallows instead of just holding it in her mouth."
"Ah, yes······"
As she handed me the tray and listed the precautions one by one, she reminded me of an overprotective mother sending her child off to daycare for the first time.
"Now that I look at you, the collar and sleeves of your cassock are a mess, and your hair is disheveled too. Stay still for a moment. I'll fix it."
"N-no, there's no need for that······"
"Stay still."
With both hands occupied by the tray, I tried to back away, but the nun's swift approach closed the distance in an instant, foiling my escape.
"As the Saintess's personal attendant, you must always maintain a perfectly groomed appearance. Remember that your conduct directly reflects upon her reputation."
Being a man, I'd occasionally imagined the embarrassing scenario of my newlywed wife straightening my tie. But a single glance downward made it painfully clear this situation was nothing like that. Her gaze was cold and devoid of emotion. Her movements were purely businesslike, as if she were merely performing a duty. If not for the impressive figure faintly visible even beneath her thick habit, the whole thing would have felt suffocating enough to stop my breath.
"You need to be more aware of your distinguished position, Father."
"No, I might quit in a week anyway—"
"Please refrain from such nonsense."
The nun suddenly pinched my ear, as if scolding a student misbehaving in class. Her extreme reaction to my usual resignation threat stemmed from the Hero's earlier declaration that she would recruit me back into the party after the Grace Bestowal Ceremony. The nun had cleverly exploited a loophole in that conversation to bind me to the Audience Chamber until the ceremony ended, and she'd been determined to keep me nailed here ever since.
"You absolutely will not quit."
"Haha······ Y-you're taking the joke too far······"
The brief exchange, meant only to catch my breath, felt like it was tightening around my neck. So I blurted out the question I'd been holding back.
"More importantly, how is the Saintess's condition······?"
"Why are you suddenly asking about the Saintess?"
"Well, I was wondering if she got upset because I was late······ or if her mood soured even a little······ I was just a tiny bit! Just a tiny bit worried about that."
"Ah. So that's the 'condition' you meant······ I thought something was wrong with her health······"
"There's no way anything could be wrong with her health when you're always by her side, caring for her so diligently. Ha. Haha······ So······ how is she······?"
Just as a faint sense of relief began to rise in my chest, the nun delivered the blow.
"She's sulking tremendously."
The shock hit me like a spear through the heart. I nearly dropped the tray, but the nun's arm steadied me just in time, allowing me to narrowly avoid the small crisis. The major crisis, however, remained very much intact.