Ch.367Episode 14 – One Religion, One Faith, Two Saints

She faithfully followed the teaching to love all neighbors.

Lucia always strived to bestow equal love and mercy upon everyone.

But the human heart is inherently deceitful.

Even for a saint who treated everyone equally, there was someone she favored above all others.

Of course, she had not the slightest intention of neglecting or looking down on others. Before being a saint, Lucia was a clergy member. As such, she should love everyone equally—how could she favor just one person? That would be unacceptable.

Yes.

That was certainly the case.

Episode 14 – One Religion, One Faith, Two Saints

“It suits you so well, Saint! Look in the mirror, look.”

“……”

Lucia gazed into the mirror the nun handed her, feeling somewhat dazed.

The saint reflected in the mirror was objectively quite beautiful.

Her height, which easily surpassed the average, combined with her slender frame might give the impression of frailty, but one look at her subtly flushed cheeks would instinctively reveal her good health.

Especially her eyes.

Eyes that seemed to contain an emerald sea. Profound yet warm. Indescribable yet extraordinary, those blue eyes sparkled beneath thick eyebrows.

Thus, cardinals and bishops who met Lucia directly generally assessed her as an extraordinary individual.

At just over twenty years old, Lucia was a beauty acknowledged by all.

“……”

Though it was a face she saw every day.

Today, her reflection in the mirror seemed somehow awkward, causing Lucia to quietly avert her gaze from the mirror the nun had offered.

“What’s wrong, Saint? Perhaps you don’t like the makeup?”

“No, that’s not it…”

Leaving the concerned-looking nun behind, Lucia trailed off in a manner uncharacteristic of her.

“It’s just, a bit strange to me…”

“Ah, you’ve never worn makeup before, have you, Saint?”

“That’s right.”

Lucia glanced at her reflection in the mirror.

With others’ help, she had dressed up for the first time in her life, and the slightly altered appearance felt a bit stifling and awkward.

But the reflection in the glass appeared beautiful even to her own eyes.

To be honest, it wasn’t bad at all.

Her skin seemed more translucent, her eyes more defined. Somehow, her impression seemed slightly different.

Although the unfamiliar makeup caused some discomfort and awkwardness, it wasn’t unbearable, and the awkwardness would fade with familiarity. If she could just get used to it, it wouldn’t matter.

Then suddenly, Lucia wondered:

Would they like this?

“Hmm…”

Lucia sat before the mirror, deep in thought.

The nuns watching the silent, contemplative saint exchanged glances and whispered among themselves before reassuring Lucia.

“If it’s your first time, you might feel that way because you’re not used to it. As you do it more, it will start to feel natural.”

There was a slight misunderstanding, but Lucia didn’t correct it.

Instead, she nodded in agreement.

“Is that so…?”

“Of course! But I’m surprised.”

“What surprises you?”

“That you’re wearing makeup, Saint. You’ve never shown interest before—is there a reason you suddenly wanted to try it?”

“Well, that…”

Lucia hesitated, searching for words, and after a long silence, she trailed off, answering that she “just wanted to try it.”

As the nuns and the saint gathered around the mirror, chatting…

Knock. Knock.

“I apologize for disturbing your rest. I have urgent news.”

“What is it, Father?”

“We received word from the brother who went to the hotel. They will arrive shortly.”

Upon hearing the priest’s report, Lucia began removing her makeup. Sensing the change in atmosphere, the nuns silently cleared away the mirror and prepared warm water in a silver tray.

As the stifling, awkward makeup was wiped away bit by bit, the familiar face she saw every day gradually reappeared.

After thoroughly removing the last traces of makeup, Lucia dried her face with a towel and stepped out onto the terrace.

The dark night sky.

A blue moon gazed down upon the world.

A carriage crossed the gravel path, approaching the cathedral.

*

The moonlit night was a clear blue.

The blue light of the moon hung in the window, with telephone poles tangled like yarn crisscrossing the night sky. Though Laterano’s night sky was beautiful enough to deserve its reputation as holy ground, I hardly noticed the surrounding scenery.

I had no leisure to appreciate such beauty, as a major concern buzzed through my mind.

“Who called for me?”

“The Saint has summoned you.”

I was moving somewhere with the priest who introduced himself as being from the cathedral. He was the clergyman who had suddenly appeared at my hotel room, informing me of the Saint’s summons and telling me to prepare.

He must be no ordinary priest if he could freely enter and exit a hotel guarded by police on the outside and the Inquisition on the inside. He might be a clergyman affiliated with a central department or someone sent by a high-ranking official.

Whatever the case, there was no doubt about the clergyman’s identity.

I directed a question toward the clergyman visible through the partition.

“Where are we going?”

“To the cathedral.”

“Which cathedral?”

A monotone voice returned from the driver’s seat.

“You’ll see when we arrive.”

The response was not just unfriendly but downright cold, but I didn’t mind.

The taciturn clergyman slowly turned the steering wheel, while I, occupying the back seat, gazed absently out the window.

“We’re heading east.”

“Yes.”

There are three cathedrals in Laterano.

The Medius Cathedral, seat of the Pope.

The Altiora Cathedral, through which dozens of saints have passed.

The Tranquille Cathedral, elevated with the birth of a new saint.

Of these, the cathedral located in the east is the Altiora Cathedral.

And in the current era where two female saints coexist, the Altiora Cathedral has only one master.

“……”

I quietly took out a cigarette and put it between my lips.

A spicy aroma lingered on the tip of my tongue. The strong Kjerag cigarette exhaled rough, hazy smoke. Like a nearly spent candle burning itself out as it races toward a dead end, the cigarette continued until it turned to scattered ash.

In the distance, a picturesque cathedral on a low hill.

Looking at the towering cathedral, I raised my head to gaze at the gloomy night sky.

*

My relationship with Veronica is not as bad as one might think.

Uninformed people might assume that Veronica and I have a strained relationship due to her nationality (Veronica is a dual citizen who maintains Kjerag Empire citizenship), but this is not the case.

In fact, we get along quite well.

Although we met as informant and intelligence officer, Veronica often helped me on a personal level. Of course, I wasn’t just on the receiving end.

She occasionally made personal requests of me.

To be precise, she entrusted her beloved siblings to my care.

For instance, asking me to make sure Lucia didn’t get involved in strange affairs at the magic tower, or requesting that I look after Francesca’s safety.

If Veronica had been just an ordinary informant, I wouldn’t have bothered with her requests. Similarly, if I had been an ordinary intelligence agent, she wouldn’t have entrusted her siblings to me.

After all, she had been betrayed more than once during her decade-plus cooperation with the Imperial Guard.

Veronica had walked the unwanted path of a clergy member and faced various threats, and when crises arose, the Imperial Guard failed to provide proper assistance.

Of course, this was entirely Veronica’s claim.

Considering that intelligence operations involve many variables and are vulnerable to changes in internal and external environments, the Imperial Guard might have found themselves in situations where they couldn’t help. Or perhaps they did provide assistance without Veronica’s knowledge.

Intelligence agencies, by nature, can neither boast nor make excuses.

Whatever the process, it was clear that Veronica was dissatisfied with her treatment.

Upon discovering that Cardinal Raoul had contacted the Empire, she immediately planned to escape the Empire’s sphere of influence and seized the opportunity through me. I guaranteed her safety, and thus she became my informant.

Perhaps because our first meeting was extraordinary.

The connection we formed then always had something peculiar about it.

When I answered the phone with a conventional greeting like “Hello,” she would retort, “I’m not your honey.”

She would sneak up behind me, suddenly cover my eyes, and ask, “Guess who?”

She had barged into my lodgings uninvited more than once. In Abas, she even snuck into the military hospital where I was admitted.

Thus, the relationship between Veronica and me was quite peculiar.

Too horizontal to be just informant and handler, yet strangely vertical to be friends.

Though playful, Veronica never crossed certain lines. She might pry into personal matters, but she handled assigned tasks well, promptly obtained necessary information, and collected useful intelligence without being asked.

Yet she never demanded compensation.

It’s funny to say this now, but honestly, I always found Veronica suspicious. An informant working without compensation?

In my more than ten years as an intelligence officer, I had never seen an informant who didn’t take payment. Nor had I met anyone who would joke with or speak casually to an intelligence officer while knowing their true identity.

Veronica was an oddity I had never encountered before, an unpredictable woman. So while I didn’t push her away, I maintained a certain distance.

However.

It seems that approach has reached its limit.

In the holy land’s cathedral under the blue moonlight.

Face to face with the cathedral’s master, I ask her:

“Veronica, do you perhaps like me?”

“……”

Clatter.

The thick old-fashioned glass tumbled across the floor. Veronica, forgetting she had dropped the glass, stared at me blankly.