Chapter 12
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: The Saintess's Perfect Facade
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Knock, knock.
A dignified knock sliced through the taut silence of the prayer room once more. The girl who had just been blushing in front of me, rambling about "my purity," was nowhere to be seen. In the instant the door opened, Elysia transformed into the flawless "Saintess Elysia," as if she had rehearsed it thousands of times.
The door swung open, and high-ranking priests in ornate robes flooded in, their backs lit by the dazzling hallway light. Leading them was Cardinal Bartholomew, one of the true powers in the Papal Court.
"Ah..."
The moment they stepped inside, gasps of admiration erupted.
At that instant, this place looked like the purest sanctuary in the entire empire.
Sunlight poured softly through the curtains, a faint lily scent lingered in the air, and at the center knelt the silver-haired saintess in noble poise.
It was as if a page from the original novel Empire's Flower had leaped straight into reality. Even I found myself holding my breath for a moment.
"...You have arrived, priests."
Elysia slowly turned her head. Her violet eyes held a mystical, distant depth, as if gazing beyond this world. The eyes that had glared at me resentfully just moments ago, flushed red, were gone.
"Ahh, as expected of the Saintess."
The cardinal spoke in a voice thick with emotion. He bowed his head reverently, like a devotee beholding a god from a holy painting.
"Lately, strange rumors have been circulating inside and outside the church, and I was worried. But it seems my fears were unfounded. In an air so pure and pristine, how could the Saintess possibly falter?"
The priests following behind nodded vigorously in agreement.
"Hmph. We must impose strict discipline on those spreading such slanderous nonsense that insults the noble face of our church. To insult the Saintess is no different from insulting God Himself."
The high priests nodded in unison. Their gazes hardened bit by bit. Some pursed their lips, others stroked their chins, already calculating.
Were they angry because the Saintess had been insulted? Or because the church's face had been sullied?
"Well said, Cardinal. We may need to summon the Inquisition to investigate the source."
When those words came out, I truly felt like I couldn't breathe.
Inquisition.
The term appeared occasionally in the original story. But it always passed by as a distant threat, never sounding as real as it did now, right here in the middle of the prayer room.
At that moment, Elysia moved.
"Cardinal, and priests. I am deeply grateful for your concern."
She placed her hand on her chest.
Slowly, carefully. As if even that fingertip held profound meaning. Then she bowed her head ever so slightly. Without meeting their eyes directly. Humility. Mercy. The saintess's textbook poise.
"But summoning the Inquisition seems like too severe a measure."
Elysia's voice was delicate and holy.
The high priests' expressions froze for an instant. As if caught off guard, their calculations halted briefly. But soon—that pause turned to.
Elysia continued.
"They are mere people, after all. They might have simply strayed momentarily and believed some unfounded tale."
That phrase, "mere people," strangely pierced my heart. Not because they truly saw people as people, but because Elysia said it so, allowing them to become the "merciful church."
"Did not God teach us mercy over judgment?"
Elysia smiled faintly. Her eyes glistened with moisture.
"It would be best to overlook a single mistake. Hatred only begets more hatred."
"Ahh... Truly the Saintess. To possess such profound compassion."
Her appearance was so sacred that one priest teared up and made the sign of the cross.
"As expected of the Saintess."
Another followed.
"The incarnation of mercy."
The cardinal narrowed his eyes at Elysia. Long and intently. Then he nodded slowly, as if to say, "This is the Saintess's will, so I shall obey."
"Even so, for the discipline of our church, a light warning is in order. We cannot stand by while the Saintess's honor is tarnished."
He paused in thought, then turned to her.
"What if we dock the pay of those in the department where the rumors originated, Saintess? Would that suffice?"
Elysia lowered her eyelids as if pondering, then gazed at the cardinal with soft eyes.
"...That seems a fitting punishment. They need time to reflect on their mistakes, after all."
In that moment, the room's atmosphere warmed again. As if the word "Inquisition" had never been spoken. As if this entire exchange was a ritual to prove the church's mercy.
The high priests wore satisfied expressions. Some sighed in relief, others seemed to already be listing "pay cut candidates" in their minds.
I watched them and clenched my fist tight.
These people.
They're not worried about the Saintess.
They're just using her protection as an excuse... to save face.
And—
I looked at Elysia.
She maintained her smile. Eyes modestly downcast, hands folded over her chest. Lips that had just spat phrases like "What bullshit" now recited "mercy."
Yet.
Yet, it was perfect.
Too perfect. It gave me chills.
Is this... acting?
If not acting, then what?
If she truly meant to shield them, why did that sincerity only erupt so roughly when she was with me?
For a split second, I lost track of who the "Saintess" I knew really was.
The Elysia from the original story?
The Elysia sprawled drunk on the sofa?
Or this Elysia, speaking of mercy under the sunlight?
"Then."
The cardinal said.
"We'll put the rumors to rest here. Honoring the Saintess's will—we shall not impose excessive punishment."
"Thank you, Cardinal."
Elysia bowed her head. So gracefully, so beautifully.
She finished her bow with her head lowered.
The moment the gesture ended—so subtly, so faintly only I could notice—her shoulders trembled once.
Sweat.
The room was comfortably temperate, the sunlight warm, the lily scent overly soothing. Yet beads of cold sweat glistened near her temple, peeking through her hair. The person who had maintained perfectly measured breaths until moments ago suddenly inhaled a beat late.
No one noticed.
The high priests were still basking in the "merciful resolution," the cardinal clasping his hands in satisfaction. Their gazes lingered only on her words, not descending to the signals her body sent.
I saw it.
Her toes quivering ever so slightly.
The fingertips on her knee gone deathly pale.
And—
The moment Elysia took a step, her balance crumbled.
"...!"
No sound came.
No time to think.
I lunged forward on reflex.
"Saintess!"
My arm reached her first. Around her waist. The warmth through her saintess robes. An excessively light weight pressed against me in that instant. Her body tilted toward mine, her breath hot against my ear.
"—!"
Elysia's eyes widened in shock. Not surprise—but fluster.
The next moment.
"How dare you!"
A sharp cry cut through the prayer room.
"How dare a mere apprentice priest lay hands on the Saintess?!"
One of the high priests stepped forward. His face flushed red. Less anger, more reflexive outrage at his dignity being slighted.
"It's fine."
Elysia said.
She had already regained her balance. Standing with my arm for support, she composed herself in a flash. As if the stumble had never happened.
But—
"No, Saintess."
Another interjected.
"This is no trivial matter. The Saintess's purity is the foundation of our church—"
"He only supported me because I felt unwell."
Elysia said calmly.
Unnervingly so.
"The Saintess is too kind for her own good."
This time, openly hostile glares turned my way.
"The Saintess, that Saintess, feeling unwell? As if such a lie would hold."
I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came.
No—they couldn't.
In this situation, one more word from me would turn it into "excuses." What they wanted wasn't truth, but pretext.
"We should hand this one over to the Inquisition immediately."
"How did the Pope allow such irreverence beside the Saintess?"
They kept calling for the Inquisition like children tattling to the teacher.
"The person by my side... I will decide."