The Saintess's Irrevocable Wish
There are few sights quite as entertaining as watching someone clutch their head in agony over an irreversible choice. A child pondering whether they love their mother or father more. A husband breaking into a cold sweat and tilting his head at an awkward angle when his spouse asks if he would marry her again in the next life. Even a gamer seriously agonizing over which type to pick—Fire, Water, or Grass—to ensure smooth sailing for the rest of their playthrough. When faced with an option that cannot be undone, humans cannot help but imagine what comes next, even if the choice is nothing more than a fleeting fantasy.
"Anything... anything..."
The Saintess occasionally muttered those words in a dazed, half-conscious voice after I had explained exactly what the paper she held represented. It was nothing more than a crumpled scrap torn from a notebook, covered in a few scribbled characters written in an atrocious hand—essentially just trash. Yet the way she clutched that worthless scrap as if it were a priceless treasure made her look like a lucky soul who had stumbled upon a treasure map on some nameless deserted island.
"Really... if I have this, you'll really do anything Welna wants...?"
"Yes. Of course. It's a special reward just for you, Saintess, in return for being such a good girl all this time."
"Yeah! That's right! Welna was good! Super good!"
Her utterly confident declaration briefly sparked a violent philosophical debate in my mind about the standards of goodness. Given the current situation, however, I decided to set such trivial thoughts aside for now.
"But please keep this in mind, Saintess. This wish ticket can only be used once. If you don't decide on a wish by today, it will simply disappear. So you must think carefully about what you want and tell me. Understood?"
"U-uh, yeah! I-I got it!"
"Haha."
The sight of the Saintess nodding obediently while listening intently to my words—a rare occurrence—naturally reminded me of a child who had just returned from their first errand, carefully mulling over their parents' instructions. An involuntary, fond smile slipped out.
"Did you give one to that person too...?"
"Pardon?"
It happened in an instant. The Saintess suddenly tugged lightly on my sleeve and asked in a quiet voice. "That person" was an extremely vague term, making it hard to tell who she meant. Yet the faint hostility lacing her subdued tone gave me a good idea of the person's identity.
"Are you referring to the Hero?"
"..."
The Saintess answered with a silent nod, then gazed up at me steadily. Ever since their first meeting—which could hardly be called amicable—the relationship between the Saintess and the Hero had been nothing short of disastrous. The Saintess, who rarely showed her emotions, was openly hostile only toward the Hero. Likewise, the Hero, who seemed to praise and accept everything in this world, was openly antagonistic only toward the Saintess. Even Apis and Dawna, who bickered whenever their eyes met, had never reached this level of hostility. With a mediator present, those two could at least communicate to some degree; they simply had differing values and did not truly wish each other dead.
But these two were polar opposites.
"I hate that girl. She keeps trying to steal what's mine. Don't play with her."
"I truly cannot understand why the Grace Bestowal Ceremony is necessary! I am strong enough without relying on any grace! Therefore, I would prefer not to receive the Saintess's help if at all possible!"
They were complete opposites. Having watched their every word and action from up close, I could easily sense from the slightest shifts in their conversations that they regarded each other as mortal enemies. I also had a vague idea of what had ignited this emotional turmoil between them.
As much as I wanted to deny it, at this point I could no longer pretend not to know.
"I haven't given one to the Hero..."
"Really? Really?"
"O-of course. I already told you earlier that this is a special gift just for you, Saintess."
"Hmph."
Apparently satisfied with my answer, the Saintess bounced in place like a rabbit greeting its owner, her expression bright with delight. I could somewhat understand why the Hero—whom I had traveled with through life and death for years—had developed feelings for me, even if I lacked the nerve to accept them. But I had no idea why the Saintess, whom I had only known for a little over half a year, was so obsessively attached to me. There was no way I had some long-lost half-sister from childhood, given that I was born an orphan. And claiming she was a reincarnated lover from a past life was impossible, since my previous existence had hardly been dramatic enough to serve as the centerpiece of such a tragic story. Even if I wanted to seek advice, the Saintess herself seemed unaware of the reason, so there was no chance I could find a proper answer on my own.
If I were to leave this place soon, I wondered how the Saintess would react. The mere thought of it brought on such a dizzying pressure that I quickly stopped thinking about it altogether.
"Then I'll go pick out a fairy tale to read to you in a bit. Once you've decided on your wish, please let me know. All right?"
"Yeah. Got it."
Taking the Saintess's firm reply as my cue, I cut off the flood of distracting thoughts and turned my gaze toward the fairy tale books scattered across the floor. Fortunately, she seemed quite pleased with the suggestion I had hastily come up with. Clutching the wish ticket tightly, she occasionally rocked her body from side to side, looking exactly like a metronome.
"♬"
She was even humming to herself now and then. She must have been incredibly happy. I hoped she would stay lost in her own thoughts like this until the time limit passed, but I knew full well that was far too optimistic.
'It doesn't matter what it is, just please don't wish for a kiss...'
If things continued this way, the Saintess's pure lips might end up sullied because of me. Yet if I had done nothing, an even greater tragedy could have occurred. Regrettably, this was the best solution my inadequate mind could devise.
Maybe I really should have just stabbed my hand with a knife instead.
A pale regret occasionally tried to cloud my vision, but I shook my head a couple of times to quickly dismiss the thought.
Let's calm down by looking at fairy tales.
I gathered the carelessly strewn books from the floor and examined their covers one by one. Last time I had read her an exciting adventure story, so this time it would be better for her education to focus on life lessons and morals.
"Let's see..."
Until recently, selecting a fairy tale that matched the Saintess's mental age while avoiding anything indecent she might imitate had taken a considerable amount of time. However, after a nun noticed my efforts and offered to handle the troublesome task herself, all I had to do now was pick out whatever caught my eye.
"Oh, this is one I haven't seen before. Did the nun bring in a new one?"
What caught my attention was an unfamiliar fairy tale book with beautiful illustrations and an antique-looking cover. The title was written in ancient Elvish, so aside from the word "Elf," I couldn't read anything else. Still, only the cover title was in Elvish—the contents were properly written in the common tongue. That was a common finishing touch in books that translated ancient Elven texts, so it wasn't particularly surprising.
I opened the book and carefully read the first sentence.
"So you bought an elf as a sex slave... Are you out of your mind—"
Thud.
I immediately slammed the book shut. I must have misread it. No—I had to have misread it. There was no way a book containing such suspicious text could be in the collection that the meticulous nun had personally sworn to manage.
I opened the book again to confirm the identity of the ominous phrase that had swept through my thoughts like a raging storm.
Flip.
"Th-this is...!"
It didn't take long for the hypothesis I had wanted to deny to transform into undeniable reality. There was no doubt about it.
It was an erotic novel.
A forbidden book that should never be placed where children's eyes might reach it—a dangerous item that even adults would never open in front of others. Why such a book, which ought to be handled more carefully than explosives, was carelessly lying around in the Audience Chamber where the Saintess resided was a problem for later. The real issue was the possibility that the Saintess might have already opened it.
"I decided on my wish!"
Right after that, a bright, excited voice rang out clearly through the room.