The Apostle of Love - 2
“She’s coming.”
On the day the Apostle of Love returned to the Holy Kingdom, Rene—who had come out to the main gate of the Great Temple to wait for her—felt her body stiffen at Vera’s words.
Two apostles she had yet to meet. The thought of encountering one of them made her tense up instinctively.
Vera’s state wasn’t quite normal either. Similar to Rene’s, yet different. He hoped this apostle would at least be sane, and with that wish in mind, he narrowed his eyes at the distant figure approaching and spoke.
It was to describe the Apostle of Love’s appearance for Rene.
“…She’s an old lady.”
The most obvious feature first. The Apostle of Love was an elderly woman whose age was etched clearly into every line of her face.
Next.
“She has a gentle expression. Her hair is white, tied up in a single bun, and her back is slightly hunched. Her robes are impeccably smooth, without a single wrinkle, so she probably prefers things neat and tidy.”
He observed her visible traits as best he could and drew those conclusions. Rene nodded repeatedly, committing the description to memory.
“Do I look all right now?”
She asked if there was anything to nitpick. Vera glanced at her briefly and replied in a nonchalant tone.
“You’re beautiful.”
Rene flinched. Her body trembled.
“Th-thank you…”
“I’m just stating a fact.”
Rene’s lips pressed shut. The words made something inside her head sizzle.
He surely meant it innocently, but for some reason, they struck her differently. Her heart felt utterly confused.
She had thought the fluttering would settle once she adjusted to life in the Holy Kingdom, but it only grew stronger with each passing day.
If it only happened when they were together, that would have been a relief. But when she was alone with Helga in their quarters, or eating, bathing, or lying in bed, Vera popped into her mind unbidden.
His voice, the hand he had held, their conversations. They swirled through her thoughts.
Thoughts she couldn’t control. Even though she should be focusing on her divine spell training, doctrinal studies, and various scholarly lessons, thoughts of Vera made it all so difficult.
Why am I like this?
As Rene pondered her own symptoms, Vargo spoke.
“Welcome.”
Rene lifted her bowed head at the sound and faced forward.
The Apostle of Love. She must have arrived. Realizing this, tension flooded her body, stiffening it rigid.
The reply came just as Rene’s lips pressed tightly together in her frozen state.
“My, Your Holiness has aged quite a bit.”
“Not as much as you.”
“Heh heh, I’m not as unsightly as Your Holiness. Please take that back.”
Their exchange was warm and familiar. Vera, who had been holding Rene’s hand and watching, widened his eyes at the conversation.
That cantankerous old man was taking teasing without retort? Astonishing.
He couldn’t have imagined it. What kind of person was the Apostle of Love to make Vargo show such courtesy?
Vera’s face twisted into a strange expression as the question arose.
The Apostle of Love, mid-conversation with Vargo, noticed Vera’s odd look beyond him and stared directly at him. Her eyes narrowed slightly.
Vargo turned his head right after. Realizing with an “Ah,” he stepped aside slightly and addressed Rene.
“Saint, please greet her. This is Teresa, the Apostle of Love.”
“H-hello!”
Rene bowed deeply at Vargo’s words. She felt the same surprise as Vera. Vargo, who never used formal speech with anyone but her, was treating someone with such respect? Truly astonishing.
Her cheeks flushed awkwardly as the thought hit her. While her head was still bowed, Teresa—the Apostle of Love, who had approached unnoticed—took Rene’s hand, gently lifted her torso, and spoke.
“Nice to meet you, Saint. No need to be so formal.”
Her tone was soft and gentle. Teresa continued, examining Rene’s raised face.
“What a lovely young lady. A bit more growth, and you’ll have every man in the world wrapped around your finger.”
She chuckled warmly. Rene managed an awkward smile, then instinctively turned her attention toward Vera.
An unconscious reaction. Teresa blinked at Rene’s odd response, then glanced at Vera at the end of her leaning gaze and let out an “Ah,” continuing.
“You must be the one with the Oath’s Stigma. I’ve heard so much. A real troublemaker, they say?”
“…Hardly, ma’am.”
Vera grimaced slightly at the words, bowed his head, and replied.
“I’m Vera.”
“Good to meet you, lad.”
Vera heard the lingering chuckle in his ears and wondered what they’d said about him to elicit this on their first meeting.
Teresa eyed Vera, who bowed deeply with perfect manners, then looked back at Rene, narrowing her eyes with a smile.
“Hmm…”
The sound slipped from her lips. Glancing at Vera again, she spoke in a playful tone.
“That one’s quite handsome, isn’t he? Handsome for an apostle.”
“You flatter me, ma’am.”
“Just saying what I see.”
Teresa watched Rene’s reaction as she spoke. The way her body twitched, focusing even more on Vera. Teresa knew at a glance.
What that reaction meant. Her smile deepened. Laughter bubbled up in delight.
Well now…
This vacation would be a fun one.
*
After greeting Teresa, Rene entered the Great Temple’s meeting room and sat beside Vera in silence.
Teresa had stepped out, saying she had business with Vargo.
In the quiet atmosphere, Rene felt Teresa’s recent words swirling in her mind.
-That one’s quite handsome, isn’t he?
The comment appraising Vera’s looks lingered.
Come to think of it, Rene realized she had no idea what Vera looked like. She couldn’t see, so it was natural, but others’ appearances Vera described in detail, allowing her to picture them. Yet in this Holy Kingdom, she alone didn’t know Vera’s face.
Realizing this, Rene groaned inwardly, her mind filling with How do I even ask?
…It was something she could just ask outright, but around Vera, Rene turned into a fool and couldn’t think of it, instead conjuring excuses.
Even if she’d thought to ask directly, she’d have made excuses anyway.
What if he thought it strange? What if he thought she harbored other feelings?
Such worries plagued her. Rene believed she felt no romantic attraction toward Vera.
There were reasons, but the biggest was this: she had never felt romantic attraction to anyone, so she didn’t recognize these emotions as such.
Her head bowed lower as the worries mounted. Her eyes squeezed shut.
Just as her state visibly worsened.
“Saint? Are you unwell?”
Vera’s question snapped out.
Rene jolted in surprise, whipping her head up with a booming reply.
“No!”
Like a seesaw springing upright from the bottom. Trembling at her fingertips, she thought Just close my eyes and ask! and cautiously parted her lips.
“Sir Knight.”
“Yes, speak.”
“What do you look like?”
Vera froze. Rene’s expression hardened further.
Only then did Vera realize he had never described his own appearance to her. Oh no.
How uncomfortable must that have been? Not knowing the face of someone she spent nearly every day with—what a massive inconvenience.
Lamenting his foolish oversight, Vera apologized to Rene.
“I’m sorry. I was thoughtless and never told you.”
“Y-yes?”
Confusion flooded Rene. Why this reaction?
As bewilderment crossed her face, Vera took her hand and placed it on his cheek.
“Eek!”
Her body jerked at the sudden touch, freezing stiff like a broken doll.
“Saint?”
“Ex-ext-ext…”
Half-formed words stuttered out.
It took time for Rene to regain her senses. Not fully—her thoughts still half-broken from the skin’s warmth transmitting through her palm.
Vera tilted his head slightly, watching her steady her breathing, then continued.
“Feel as you wish. Ask whatever you’re curious about, and I’ll answer.”
He recalled his past-life Rene stroking his face. But this backfired.
Feel as you wish. The words felt like a fireball sinking into her stomach. Too stimulating for a girl her age.
Rene flapped her mouth like a malfunctioning machine, then finally nodded, coming to her senses.
“O-okay…!”
As you wish. As you wish. As you wish.
The phrase filled her mind. Dry swallows rasped in her throat.
Vera’s hand lifted from hers. Feeling it, Rene slowly stroked his cheek.
Slightly rough, but warm and soft.
“Wh-what color is your skin, Sir Vera?”
“Paler than most, I believe. I grew up in a sunless place since childhood, so that’s probably why.”
As he spoke, his voice vibrated through her palm. A shiver ran down her spine like electricity.
Pale skin. In her mind, the warm cheek paired with white skin.
“I-I see…”
Moving her hand upward, her thumb brushed his eyelashes.
“Ah, sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
Vera’s eyes closed. His lashes tickled her thumb as his lids descended.
Rene trembled again at the sensation, swallowed hard, and asked.
“Wh-what color are your eyes?”
“Gray, as far as I know. I haven’t looked closely myself, so I can’t say for sure—sorry. I’ll check and tell you properly tonight.”
“N-no! No need to go that far!”
Gray eyes. On her rough sketch, sharp eyes and gray irises formed.
Because the Vera she knew was a delinquent youth, they came out sharp. Not intentional, but it made the image in her mind eerily realistic.
Her thumb climbed higher, tracing his straight brows. Then the bangs falling over them.
“Hair color?”
“Black.”
Black hair and straight brows added to the picture.
I thought it’d be blond.
A surprise. As she thought that, she stroked his high, straight nose—far more refined than hers—and traced his jawline, refining the image. Then her hand stopped.
The last uncharted part.
L-lips…
The thought of touching them halted her.
Thump. Thump.
Her heart raced. Her throat bobbed again.
Slowly, ever so slowly, her thumb trailed from his cheek. Her palm heated up.
Vera’s warmth? Or hers? She didn’t know.
Thus, her thumb dipped into the soft dip.
Squelch.
It touched his lips.
She yanked her hand away in shock, practically shouting.
“Th-that’s enough!”
“Was it helpful?”
“Y-yes! Yes! I think I get it now! Thank you!”
Words tumbled out. Rene chewed her lips, clenched her fists, sat ramrod straight, and froze that way.
Vera tilted his head at the sight, then mirrored her posture.
Thump. Thump.
Rene sat in silence, anxiously wondering if Vera could hear her pounding heart.