Adaptation - 2
Vera was exchanging a few brief words with Rene when he shifted his gaze to the clock on one wall of the infirmary.
The time read seven in the evening. Dinner time. He needed to feed Rene. Over the past two days, he'd poured divine power into her to stave off hunger, but no matter how much vitality the divine power infused, it was only natural that it fell short of the efficiency of a proper meal.
With that thought settled, Vera rose to his feet and said to her, “It's about time for dinner, Saintess. I'll step out briefly to fetch some food.”
“Ah, yes.”
As Rene replied and Vera released the hand he'd been holding until then, a short sigh slipped from her lips.
Vera tilted his head at her reaction. “Is something wrong?”
“Pardon? Oh, no!”
The quick response. Vera wondered if she might be anxious about being left alone in an unfamiliar place and spoke again to reassure her. “It won't take long. Just a little while—a very short while—and I'll be back.”
“Yes! Of course! Go ahead!”
Her hurried reply, laced with emphasis. Vera nodded at the sight, then strode away from her with heavy footsteps.
He had to hurry back. With that in mind, he flung open the infirmary door—only to halt abruptly, narrowing his eyes at the three figures standing right outside.
Two lumps and one middle-aged man. The twins and Rohan.
The three startled stiffly as Vera emerged, their eyes darting about.
Vera slammed the door shut behind him and growled with a fierce scowl, “What is this?”
His low, rumbling voice carried unmistakable hostility.
It was only natural. Even in the Holy Kingdom, rife with eccentrics, these three were among the top five strangest of the strange. Over the past few weeks with Rene, hadn't he vowed countless times? He would never let these people anywhere near her.
As Vera's wary aura thickened, the three stiffened further. Then Rohan, standing between the twins, forced an awkward grin and spoke up. “Ah, nooo… We heard the Saintess arrived, so we thought we'd just take a peek~.”
“Is the Saintess some kind of sideshow?”
“Whoa, that's not what I meant! Our little one's spouting some wild stuff!”
As Vera snapped back, he caught Rohan inching slyly closer and twisted his face into a murderous glare. “Don't touch me. It disgusts me.”
“Eek.”
Rohan flinched, his body trembling. He rolled his eyes between Vera and the door behind him, then narrowed his gaze slyly and asked in a subtle tone, “So, how's the Saintess doing? Hmm? Seeing our kid all riled up like this has your ol' uncle curious…. Is it, like, heart-pounding and all that?”
Rubbing his palms together obsequiously, he looked every bit the fawning sycophant.
Vera felt a surge of anger at Rohan's antics and opened his mouth to retort—when, surprisingly, the twins noticed and reined him in. “Rohan, apologize to Vera. Vera doesn't go blind for women.”
“Right. Vera no boner. Vera anger boner.”
“…Shut up.”
The twins' attempt at reading the room. Unfortunately, it backfired spectacularly on Vera, who felt his blood pressure spike at their contextless drivel every time.
The twins moped at his curse, muttering, “Vera mean. We help, he curses.”
“Take it back. Vera boner.”
“Huh? Uncle's curious, you really won't tell?”
Their words came one by one in turn. As Vera ignored them, his mind reeled at the thought of what might happen if Rene met these idiots. Absolutely not. Never. He couldn't stop them from meeting entirely, but he sure as hell wouldn't let them spout nonsense in front of her.
His eyes bulging with resolve, Vera addressed the three in a tone even more menacing than before. “Get lost. All of you. The Saintess needs rest, so don't come anywhere near here until she rises. Consider this your warning.”
“Aww…”
“Get. Lost.”
They flinched again. Lips pursed at Vera's twisted expression, the three shuffled sulkily toward the infirmary exit.
Watching their retreating backs, Vera steeled his inner resolve. …Soon.
He'd have to educate them. Those three. And Trevo, who hadn't shown up yet. He'd have to beat some proper behavior into them, one way or another.
Vera let out a deep sigh once they vanished from sight, then headed toward the dining hall.
His responsibilities weighed heavily.
A few days later, in a small conference room not far from the infirmary. Vera had come seeking Norn upon hearing that attendants for Rene had been selected.
Entering, he saw Norn bow his head in greeting, with four girls standing rigidly behind him. Vera spoke. “These are they?”
“Yes, sir. We picked the best of the best—they'll all do their duty.”
Vera nodded at Norn's words, then eyed the girls lined up behind him. They appeared about Rene's age. Tension etched every face, their postures stiff.
He could have told them to relax, but he didn't. That tension would foster caution, acting as a restraint against any rudeness toward Rene.
Gazing at the girls—Rene's future attendants—with sunken eyes, Vera asked, “Who's in charge?”
“Yes, sir.”
Thud. The one on the far right stepped forward.
“Apprentice Holy Knight Helga imda.”
Straw-blond hair tied tightly back, a face carrying a languid air. Vera felt a vague sense of familiarity, then glanced at Norn and realized why—their hair was identical.
“…Related?”
“My daughter.”
Norn, lifting his head, smiled a bit sheepishly and continued. “No nepotism here, sir—don't worry. Even as my daughter, I can confidently say she's highly capable.”
“Please take good care of her imda.”
She bowed deeply. Vera glanced between the bowing Helga and Norn's embarrassed expression, then nodded slightly. “Very well. I'm sure Sir Norn has handled it properly. Thank you for your efforts.”
“You're too kind, sir.”
A generous approval, uncharacteristic of Vera. But from his perspective, it was well-founded. In a Holy Kingdom full of weirdos, Norn was a rare normal one—sharp-eyed and capable to boot—and this was his daughter. That alone earned her points in Vera's book. Of course, if her performance fell short later, he'd cut her loose without hesitation. For now, approval was easy.
“Is their training complete?”
“Yes, sir. Ready for immediate deployment.”
“Good. It's the Saintess's discharge day today, so we can introduce them on the way.”
Norn and the attendants bowed. Vera took in the sight, then turned to leave, adding, “Then let's go.”
As he walked, Vera reviewed Rene's schedule. Introduce her to her quarters first…
Then take her to Vargo. They'd exchange greetings, and he'd brief her on the days ahead—from daily life to divine power training and revelation schedules.
Vera let out a small sigh at the thoughts, then pressed on. There was no end to the things needing his attention.
Rene, sitting on the bed, lifted her head at the sound of the door opening.
“Saintess. I trust you've been well?”
Vera's voice. Rene smiled faintly and nodded. “Yes. It's discharge day today, right?”
“Indeed. Ah, we've brought some people with us. These are the priestesses who'll attend you starting today.”
Vera stepped aside, gesturing for the attendants to greet her.
They advanced with crisp footsteps, starting from Helga on the right. “Senior attendant Helga imda. Pleased to serve ya imda.”
Rene gave an awkward smile in response to Helga's precise bow. “Yes, pleased to meet you.”
The other attendants followed with their greetings, and Rene replied to each one by one. She thought how she'd never quite get used to such deferential treatment, letting out an uneasy laugh. …No, I have to get used to it.
If this was the life ahead, she needed to adapt. Clenching her fist with resolve, she turned to Vera. “Can we head out now?”
“Yes. We'll go to your quarters first to change, then pay respects to His Holiness. He'll brief you on the schedule ahead.”
His Holiness. The Holy Emperor of the Holy Kingdom. Realizing she was about to meet someone of such stature, Rene felt tension coil inside her and asked Vera, “Um… what kind of person is His Holiness? What if I make a mistake…?”
“He won't mind. No need to worry. He's a… good man.”
Vera's words trailed off awkwardly. A thought had crossed his mind. To him, Vargo was less a “good man” and more a cranky old codger. That perception made his reassurance feel like a lie, causing the stutter. Unaware of this, Rene took his hesitation as a sign the Holy Emperor might be prickly, heightening her nerves.
“Th-that's a relief!”
Her fists clenched tighter, an awkward smile on her lips. I can do this, right?
What if she offended him and got scolded? Silly worries bubbled up inside her.
Guided by Vera to her quarters, Rene underwent primping under the attendants' hands, her thoughts wandering. So much to do.
It took ages. Washing was one thing, combing her hair another. Their meticulous touches dragged it out to the point of boredom.
And the ceremonial robes? Incredibly fiddly. Layer upon layer, draped and fastened—a pinnacle of hassle she'd never imagined.
As Rene grew weary, Helga's voice rang out. “All done imda.”
Relief flooded her at the end of the ordeal, and she beamed gratefully. “Ah, thank you. You must be exhausted.”
“Nah. Just doin' my job imda.”
“Still. Um, Helga?”
“Yes'm, Helga imda.”
“Hehe, your accent's so unique—easy to remember.”
It wasn't mockery; if anything, it was affectionate. Sightless Rene preferred such non-visual traits.
“Ma's from the north imda. Southern accent mixed with northern, guess that's how it came out imda.”
“Ahh…”
“Ready to head out? The Apostle's waitin' outside imda.”
“Ah, yes.”
Nodding, Rene gripped her cane and stood, her mind snagging on Vera waiting outside. She murmured to Helga, “Um… do I look strange right now?”
The question slipped out unbidden, born of sudden worry that the robes might look ridiculous.
Helga eyed her, replying with utmost sincerity. “You look beautiful imda.”
At least, that's what Helga thought.