Heart's Fluttering Awakening
Two weeks after that realization, in the flower bed in front of the dormitory. Vera sat side by side with Rene on the bench, passing the time, when he suddenly voiced the question.
“How are your lessons going?”
It had been a while since he'd heard anything about her classes, so he'd brought it up.
Rene jolted in surprise at the abrupt question, her body twitching before she realized a beat later that Vera was asking her. She quickly replied.
“Oh, they're great! Lady Teresa is teaching me so well.”
Thump. Thump. Even as she spoke, her heart raced erratically. It was because Vera, who rarely initiated conversation, had tossed out a topic first. Rene judged the feeling as simple gladness—something Teresa would have called a flutter of excitement.
Wanting to draw out the conversation on this rare initiative from him, Rene continued with a beaming face. Her words bubbled out in a clear, bright tone.
“Lady Teresa's power is so helpful.”
“The power that connects people, right?”
“Yes! She links me with her, and then when she uses divine spells in that state, I can feel exactly how the divine power moves. Um... it's like, I was the one casting the spell myself.”
“That's quite remarkable.”
“Right? Oh, want me to show you? What I've learned so far.”
“It would be an honor.”
“What honor?”
Pfft. Laughter slipped from Rene's lips. Giggling at Vera's stiff reply, she soon extended her hand forward and unleashed her divine power.
“It's a healing spell. She said this is the best one to start with.”
“Yes, since it makes the most efficient use of divine power's inherent vitality.”
Vera responded thus while watching the pure white divine power array itself. The mist-like energy gathered at Rene's fingertips, transforming into a cluster of light. It coalesced into a round orb, swimming gently around her fingers. Vera's eyes widened as he let out an exclamation.
“Impressive. For just two weeks of study, the completion is remarkably high.”
“Oh, it's all thanks to Lady Teresa.”
She giggled bashfully as she replied. Hearing that, Vera thought that the Power of Love was indeed exceptional for teaching.
His Holiness has good reason to hold her in high regard.
Seeing it firsthand gave him a sense of it.
It's probably a mechanism for sharing the educator's accumulated experience.
Sharing sensations was akin to hammering a lifetime of honed skills directly into the student's body. In other words, it allowed transmitting condensed experience in a short time. Its versatility was outstanding—a true domain of an Apostle power.
However.
...It's useless in war.
It perfectly explained why, in his previous life after the Demon King's rampage, Teresa had never gone to the front lines. It was a power that could rapidly elevate one person to a high realm, but in a battlefield where people died by the droves at the slightest mistake, it wasn't efficient. No matter how much you advanced someone, if they died on the field, you'd have to start over with another. Inefficient.
A nice-to-have in war, but not essential. Unnecessary, really.
His thoughts extended outward. As Vera's mouth fell silent, a hush settled over the space.
Rene, in the midst of demonstrating her divine spell, felt a tickle in her gut at the sudden quiet and awkwardly withdrew her power with an embarrassed face.
“Um... that's it!”
“Ah, that was splendid.”
“Hehe...”
It was the usual praise, but for some reason, it always sounded fresh. Rene fidgeted with her hands resting on her thighs, hating the returning silence. She racked her brain for a topic.
What should I say? What topic would keep the conversation going?
Nothing came to mind, her head growing hot with frustration, until she blurted out the first thing that popped up.
“Oh, right! Sir Knight.”
“Yes, speak.”
“What do you do while I'm in lessons?”
Vera's gaze turned to Rene. He had lowered his head slightly, fingers interlaced as he awaited her reply.
What did he do? Vera couldn't answer honestly.
After all, he couldn't say he was constantly summoning other Apostles and beating them black and blue.
After a brief deliberation, he selected his words and parted his lips.
“I'm devoting myself to personal training.”
It wasn't entirely untrue. Just... packaged nicely. Those beatings took the form of sparring, so they could count as sword training, right?
“Aha...!”
Rene nodded at his words.
“You're so diligent, Sir Knight.”
“It's only natural. To be a man worthy of the Saint, I must quietly endure at least this much.”
Flinch. Rene's shoulders jerked.
Again...!
He always said things like that. Vague words that led to weird misunderstandings. Of course, she knew it wasn't meant that way! But if others heard?
They might suspect something between them!
Her cheeks flushed crimson at the thought. Unconscious notions she hadn't delved into deeply. All she could do was panic at the emotions surging with them.
“Saint?”
“Y-Yes!”
Her head snapped up as she replied. Her voice squeaked out high-pitched, like a squeak.
Rene squeezed her eyes shut, resenting her foolish self.
“M-Maybe I'm catching a throat cold...”
The excuse slipped out pointlessly.
*
That same night, in Rene's dormitory. Rene leaned back against the headboard and let out a deep sigh.
Naturally, it was because her body refused to listen whenever she was with Vera. No matter how much she pondered why it acted so willfully, she couldn't figure it out, and her frustration only grew day by day.
Thud. Thud. Her clenched fist tapped the blanket.
Helga, who had been checking Rene's bedding, tilted her head at the sight and asked.
“What's wrong with the Saint, ma'am?”
“Hm? Oh, my thighs feel tight.”
A bald-faced lie, no spit to wet it. Right after replying, Rene wondered why her insides were so at ease with Helga but went wild only around Vera, fueling her frustration anew.
Helga watched Rene tap her thighs and straightened up.
“Want me to give you a massage, ma'am?”
“Pardon?”
“A massage, y'know. I may not look it, but I'm mighty good at 'em.”
“Uh... sure...”
A half-baked excuse met with earnest response. Feeling a pang of conscience, Rene pushed back the blanket and nodded.
“P-Please do.”
“Righto, beggin' your pardon, ma'am.”
Helga climbed onto the bed and carefully placed her hands on Rene's thighs, kneading gently.
“My pa said if I'd become a masseuse, I mighta been the best on the continent.”
Knead. Knead. Rene forced an awkward smile at the pressure.
“I-Is that so? It does feel refreshing.”
Words born of flustered guilt. Then Helga continued.
“The Saint's still young, so she oughta take good care of her body, ma'am. Push too hard now, and she won't develop proper.”
It sounded like nagging, but it was Helga's way of showing care. Midway through chuckling at the ongoing chatter, Rene's attention snagged on “still young” and “develop,” prompting a question.
“Helga?”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“D-Do I... look that young?”
Thump. Thump. Her heart pounded with tension. Dreading a “yes.” For some reason, she didn't like the idea.
Helga eyed Rene up and down at the question, hummed thoughtfully, then replied.
“Fresh as a daisy, ma'am.”
“Pardon?”
“All dewy and new.”
Tilt. Rene's head cocked. So, young? Mature? An ambiguous answer, neither clear nor satisfying. Her face twisted oddly as she nearly pressed further, then thought better of it—suspicious to dwell. She nodded.
“Aha...”
The unresolved doubt gnawed deeper at her insides.
*
The next day, in the outdoor garden. Rene sat blankly with eyes closed, waiting for Teresa.
...It's been a while.
Being alone like this—how long since? Since arriving in the Holy Kingdom, someone was always with her, so the quiet felt oddly awkward.
Basking in the warm sun, cool breeze, and rustling grass, a comfortable peace filled her, bringing a smile. Her mind wandered: she'd grown so accustomed to the Holy Kingdom that she could enjoy solitude now. A once-alien place felt familiar.
Just a couple months. She could now navigate the dormitory alone, distinguish frequent acquaintances by footsteps.
She chuckled softly at the thought, feeling proud of herself.
Wasn't it so? She'd grown used to being called Saint. She still felt unworthy, but the aversion had faded. A tremendous progress.
Rene thought:
This was possible because...
Because of Vera's help. Everyone in the Holy Kingdom accommodated her, but if she named the one who'd aided most, it was Vera.
After all, he always treated her with utmost care, steadfastly by her side— that alone was her strength.
Suddenly, memories with Vera flashed through her mind. From their first meeting in Remeo Territory, the ambush en route to the Holy Kingdom, the hand always holding hers afterward, the voice whispering in her ear. And...
Th-That...
Lips. The day Teresa returned, in that meeting room—feeling his face, her thumb had brushed his lips.
Recalling it revived the sensation. Her mind went boom. Fingers fidgeted, rubbing her thumb. Breath caught—hah—heart hammering through her body.
Her thoughts scattered again. Her skin burned hotter than ever.
Moments later, Teresa, spotting Rene from afar and approaching, let out a dry chuckle at the sight.
This is...
Her eyes narrowed.
At the end of her gaze: Rene, utterly wrapped in pink aura.
...Not easy, huh.
Teresa shook her head.