The Cowardly Baby Saint Sees Ghosts - Chapter 17

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

# Episode 17.
“…….”
I read each character again, one by one.
Gaitel.
Bellium.
First Imperial Princess.
“Ha.”
A sound escaped me—something between a laugh and a sigh.
She was Demian’s older sister, and in the original story, the princess who survived longest in the struggle for the throne. I couldn’t quite remember how her story ended.
But I knew one thing.
Most of the people who stood beside Demian when he became a tyrant were dead.
And Gaitel was someone whose name had endured in the heart of that Imperial Palace to the very end.
‘This is dangerous.’
Without thinking, I gripped the hem of my skirt tightly.
So the person I’d just offered my hand to in friendship was Demian’s blood sister.
‘I thought she was simply a highborn noble’s child.’
The way she’d dyed her hair brown, concealing the black unique to the imperial bloodline,
the way she’d hesitated before giving her name,
the way she’d brought up the crown prince first—
it must have all been calculation.
What was funny was that I’d approached her with some calculation of my own.
I’d thought that anyone of sufficient status to enter this place could be useful in securing my comfortable future.
Perhaps that’s why I felt no sting of betrayal, no anger.
If we’d both hidden our true hearts while clasping hands, then it was a fairly balanced arrangement.
The problem was what came next.
‘The princess thinks I don’t know who she really is.’
I tried to plop down onto the bench, but my legs were too short; I had to hoist myself up just to perch on it.
My feet dangled in empty air, swinging helplessly.
‘Damn it.’
When would this wretched body finally grow?
I stared blankly up at the sky.
The First Princess. The crown prince. The Pope.
I didn’t want to die—so why did I keep getting tangled up with the main characters?
“Am I really just an extra in this novel?”
* * *
Four days later, Gaitel came again.
After eating delicious food all morning and wandering through the Temple, I was heading back to the Garden.
Brown hair caught my eye near the entrance.
‘She’s here.’
I’d known she would come.
At least the Gaitel I knew from the story wouldn’t come to confirm the Saint and leave empty-handed.
I widened my eyes as if I knew nothing.
“Gaitel!”
“……Your Holiness!”
The way she answered was different from last time. It seemed she’d decided she’d made a mistake before.
‘This time she’s come to test me properly.’
We walked into the Garden side by side. Gaitel matched my pace, moving very slowly.
Whether intentional or not, it came across as natural.
“The weather is lovely today.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
Small talk had begun.
‘When things are awkward, weather talk is always the answer.’
How beautiful the Temple Garden was, how flowers bloomed despite it being winter, how they were sustained by Divine Power.
Words that seemed to have intent beneath them, yet circled roundabout with hollow courtesy.
‘Our eyes keep meeting.’
Every time our gazes crossed, she studied me as if she were measuring something.
Before long, we’d reached my favorite bench.
Gaitel sat down naturally, and I eyed the height carefully.
‘My feet won’t reach again.’
I clicked my tongue and thought, ‘to hell with it’—I hopped up and barely managed to perch on the bench.
Gaitel glanced at him, then looked away.
She seemed to be holding something back.
“What is it?”
“…No, nothing.”
She turned to face forward, but her attempt at denial was transparent.
From the way her lips trembled, I could tell exactly how ridiculous I must have looked.
‘If you want to laugh, then laugh.’
I muttered this to myself while swinging my legs back and forth as I sat, when she suddenly asked a question.
“How do you find life at the Temple?”
“It’s good. The food is plentiful, and it’s warm.”
“…Is that all?”
“Isn’t that enough?”
I turned the question back on her in genuine confusion, and Gaitel blinked slowly.
“I see.”
Perhaps it was an answer difficult for a princess to comprehend.
She gazed out at the flower garden and tossed out her next words casually.
“Is the Pope a good person?”
‘Here it comes.’
From what I remembered, the Imperial Family and the Temple weren’t on the best of terms. She was likely trying to find out why she’d approached Demian. Probably.
‘This is probably what she really wanted to ask. She wants to gauge how the Pope is treating me.’
“He’s a good person.”
“In what way?”
“He takes care that I don’t feel lonely. He makes sure I eat well too.”
Even at our first meeting, he’d prepared holy water for me.
I nodded to myself and gave my assessment of the Pope seriously.
He was a genuinely decent adult among all the people I’d met.
“Wow, I see. Do the Temple people treat the Saint well?”
“I’m not sure. Some probably like me, but there are certainly those who don’t.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m a commoner.”
Social class is determined at birth and can’t be changed. Thinking about it that way made me a little melancholy.
“What do you do in such situations?”
At her persistent questioning, I looked over at Gaitel. When I saw her smiling brightly, as if without malice, something felt odd.
“I just greet them.”
“…Is that all?”
“Yes. It’s not as if I’ve done anything wrong, after all. Whether they hate me is their choice, not mine.”
Her eyebrows rose slightly.
“You don’t resent them?”
“I do feel hurt.”
I admitted it.
“But if I treat people poorly because they dislike me, I’d become no different from them, wouldn’t I?”
The face of the Director who had abused me flashed through my mind.
The moments when I gritted my teeth and held on, relying on memories from my past life, refusing to become anything like him.
It wasn’t really about pretending to be good.
It was just how I survived.
Gaitel remained silent for quite a while.
A breeze passed through, scattering a few white petals. One petal infused with Divine Power drifted down onto her knee.
Without brushing it away, she looked at it, then opened her mouth.
“Doesn’t it strain you, healing sick people?”
Her voice had grown quieter than before.
“It’s my duty. Something I must do out of necessity, something the divine has chosen me to do.”
‘Ah.’
This was a question of a different grain.
A sick person.
It was natural that Demian came to mind, but for a princess to ask such a question, wouldn’t it have required a certain kind of courage?
It felt as though someone hiding their identity was drawing near, for the first time, to what they truly wanted to ask.
I paused to think.
There was no reason to lie.
“Both.”
“…Both?”
“It’s a duty, so sometimes I do it. But once they heal, I feel good. I don’t hate that.”
Being a Saint didn’t give me any special feeling about it. The fact that a duty was imposed on me regardless of my will didn’t mean I felt burdened.
It was simply that a person standing before me, in pain, then ceasing to hurt—
‘It felt good.’
If I could just stop seeing ghosts, everything would be perfect.
“Did I disappoint you?”
“…….”
Gaitel regarded me for a long moment.
Her eyes had changed from before. Until a moment ago they held an appraising light, but now—
Something seemed to have lost its edge.
A hollow laugh escaped her as she shrugged her shoulders.
“How could I ever be disappointed with you, Saint? I’m only grateful.”
I’ve been waiting so long for someone I could truly rely on.
In those words I felt the heart of a member of the Imperial Family thinking of the empire’s people.
Gaitel picked up a petal from her lap with her fingertips and gently placed it atop my head.
“What are you doing?”
“Oh, you had something in your hair.”
You didn’t—you just put it there.
I started to protest but held my tongue. It was an awkward jest, but not unwelcome.
Gaitel rose from her seat.
“Father is waiting for me, so I should go soon. Let’s meet again next time.”
She walked with light steps, then spun around with a mischievous smile.
“You and the Crown Prince have no connection whatsoever?”
“I said no!”
“Aha!”
Still laughing, clutching her belly, she held onto her smile and murmured softly.
“You said earlier that you feel good when a patient heals.”
“…….”
“Don’t forget those words.”
It sounded like a vow she was collecting from me, and also like a plea.
Almost as though she were saying to me: please watch over my sister.
‘That’s strange. I thought they weren’t on good terms.’
The First Princess surely had ambitions of her own. Why didn’t it bother her to be eclipsed by the Second Prince, despite her rank?
I had no desire to pry too deeply.
After all, my only purpose was to grow close to the Crown Prince—the tyrant of the future—so that he wouldn’t kill me.
As I rose from my seat, Beki came hurrying over from the other direction.
“Saint! The Pope wishes to see you.”
“Now?”
“Yes, he says there’s something important to discuss.”

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————