* * *
“Ranshel, drink this.”
Petro brought a tea brewed to ease muscle pain.
Ranshel slowly forced himself upright.
To avoid touching his leg again, he gripped the bedsheet as if tearing it apart.
“If it’s too hot, let me know.”
Hans gently placed a pouch of heated stones on Ranshel’s stiffened leg.
It wasn’t a medical fix since there was no actual injury, but somehow, the pain slowly began to subside.
As the pain ebbed away, Ranshel finally caught his breath.
He took the tea Petro offered.
Warmth spread through his stomach, and his heart eased just a little.
It felt like his body was finally rejecting the illusion.
It had realized, at last, that nothing was physically wrong.
The relief was so strong it nearly brought tears to his eyes.
Ranshel squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again, taking in the room.
Petro sat beside him, grinding tea leaves in a mortar.
Hans was fiddling with the pouch, checking the heat of the stones, and preparing another to warm up.
“……”
It felt strange—not having to suffer alone.
Just being near people who cared for him made his heart feel unexpectedly calm.
He thought—’Maybe I’ll be okay.’
It was a belief different from the mantras he whispered to himself.
It was something deeper.
Something more certain.
Ranshel realized… he wanted to protect them, too.
“Kon is just too stubborn. I couldn’t get close at all. We’ll need to find another way.”
Ranshel informed Danie of the failed mission.
The shortcut was a dead end.
He had no intention of going anywhere near the path Kon took again.
‘I can’t let him die again.’
Danie’s response was calm.
“It’s fine. We don’t even have solid proof that the Archbishop’s prayer meeting is taking place in that restricted area.”
It was the right place, but… Ranshel swallowed the truth he couldn’t share and nodded.
“I never thought this would be easy. Let’s stick to the original plan and try to gather more intel from the acolytes we’re working with. That’s what the certification was for, after all.”
“Looks like we’ll need more time.”
“Yes. No need to rush. Besides, your engagement ceremony is coming up soon.”
Ranshel’s lips stiffened slightly. He looked down at the ground and asked quietly,
“Danie… Do you know anything about the Holy Legion?”
“Of course. It’s a historic order founded to protect the Holy Temple against demonic invasions.”
‘Bullshit…’
Ranshel took a short, steadying breath.
He had to act like everything was normal.
Danie mustn’t sense anything strange.
“Do they attend the services too?”
“They’re usually stationed outside the temple, but on important holy days, they’re allowed inside as well.”
“…The Saintess’s engagement would count as an important day, right?”
“Naturally. A big crowd’s expected, so there’ll be tight security.”
Ranshel clasped his slightly trembling fingers behind his back and stepped closer to Danie.
“Danie… would it be possible for me to wear a veil too?”
“That’s… only permitted for high-ranking clergy. Worshippers aren’t allowed to conceal their identity—”
“But you disguised yourself as the Saintess and attended the service!”
“…!”
A flicker of unease crossed Danie’s face.
“Keep your voice down. What if someone hears you?”
“So will you help me wear the veil and get in?”
Ranshel looked up at Danie with wide, sparkling eyes.
Overwhelmed by the force of that gaze, Danie sighed.
“…Just this once.”
‘Pretty sure you said the same thing last time.’
‘You’re softer than you look.’
Well, it didn’t matter.
Ranshel didn’t want to run into Baha again.
He hoped Zavad wouldn’t see him either, but since it was his engagement, that was unavoidable.
‘There’s no hiding the engagement anymore.’
The idea that the Holy Legion’s commander wouldn’t know about the Saintess’s engagement was laughable.
Better to run into him in a public setting like this.
At least when Baha was fulfilling his role among the other commanders, it was manageable.
Baha had gone through brutal training at Nameless.
He could act like a perfectly normal person, like wearing a mask.
He wouldn’t have made it into the nobility or become a Legion commander otherwise.
So the key was making sure Zavad never ended up alone with him.
Frey was often in the temple, but Zavad had no reason to be there by himself.
Despite being called a “saint,” he never even attended services.
And so, Ranshel waited nervously for the day of the engagement.
Since Zavad was still a knight trainee, he arrived at the temple by carriage from school, even on the day of the ceremony.
Ranshel accompanied him to the waiting room.
Zavad, looking unimpressed, untied the cord on the sleeve of his training uniform.
Next to him, Ranshel carefully held the pristine ceremonial robes, making sure not to wrinkle them.
“All right. Hand it over.”
Zavad beckoned with a flick of his fingers.
As Ranshel handed him the outfit, Zavad began to leisurely change, stripping down to his underclothes.
And just like that, Ranshel found himself seeing Zavad’s bare body again.
The chiseled abs and subtly twitching forearms didn’t belong to someone younger than him.
His physique was like a sculpture carved from stone—dense, heavy-looking, yet somehow always moved with grace.
‘How does someone look like a literal work of art in the face, and yet have a body like they’re constantly pissed off?’
‘He barely eats—how is his body like that?’
Ranshel frowned deeply, disturbed by the sheer power of the beauty before him.
“What now?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why are you looking at my body like it offends you?”
“I wasn’t.”
“Then I guess I need to get my eyes checked.”
“You should. Try actually opening them.”
“Oh yeah? Want me to open your eyes?”
Ranshel quickly shook his head.
If that hand hit him now, he might actually die.
It wouldn’t be attempted assault—it’d be attempted murder.
Clicking his tongue, Zavad finished putting on the rest of the clothes Ranshel had brought.
The white ceremonial outfit, adorned with ornate silver accents, made him look like a noble saint destined to be remembered in the empire’s history.
“Now bring the rest.”
“What rest?”
“What do you think? The ring.”
Ranshel carefully carried over a small box.
Inside, beneath a transparent cover, the diamond atop the pale white band glimmered faintly.
“All ready now.”
Zavad let out a shallow breath as he leaned back into the plush chair.
He tossed the ring box into the air and caught it again like it was some kind of toy—causing Ranshel to flinch.
“You can’t treat the engagement ring like that!”
“It won’t break. Besides, all these formalities are such a pain. I just want to get back to the training ground.”
“This is your engagement, young master. Try to show some interest. Aren’t you even a little excited?”
“Why would I be? It’s just a formality.”
“But you’re making a promise to the Saintess—your future together.”
“What future? Don’t romanticize noble engagements. It’s just a deal between families.”
“That may be true on the surface, but in your case… you do have feelings for her, don’t you?”
Zavad didn’t even bother replying.
He just closed his eyes and crossed his arms.
Ranshel thought once again that he was just too shy for his own good.
How was someone this bashful supposed to survive in a world this harsh?
* * *
