Chapter 19: Where the Eyes Linger, the Heart Rests (1)

[19] 3. Where the Eyes Linger, the Heart Rests (1)

“So? What was your first impression?”

It happened the night before I started lying about having amnesia.

The night I had revealed my past for the first time.

I frowned at the Captain’s random question.

“…First impression?”

“Yeah, you had your hand chopped off and were living as a beggar. And then you ended up working at the church. And then, bam, Clara suddenly appears.”

A strange light twinkled in the Captain’s eye.

“What did you think of her back then?”

“…”

First impression… To be honest, I’d never thought about it before.

Clara, from the moment we met, was just… Clara. And she needed no further explanation.

Still, I furrowed my brow, trying to recall the past.

The scene from that day naturally came to mind.

A white girl stepping out of a white carriage.

Dozens of children lined up before her.

And there I was, amidst them, trying to stay awake.

The girl, who had been looking at the pleading children with an indifferent look, suddenly stopped in front of me.

She tilted her head, studying me for a long time, her chin resting on her hand, before finally smiling.

[Alright, I’ll take you.]

What did I think back then?

I rubbed my chin and said in an uncertain tone,

“…A stuck up bitch…?”

***

Deep inside the Crystal Palace of the Vatican was a door that only three people could knock on.

One was a bishop, about to ascend to the position of Pope.

One was a white-haired girl, the owner of the Crystal Palace and this room.

And the last one was a handless orphan.

Two were noble beyond compare, and one was lowly to the extreme.

The lowly one always had to go through many hardships before he could stand before that door.

A black-haired boy walks down the hallway, bathed in the colorful sunlight streaming through the windows.

He passed by priests in white robes, but didn’t greet them. They were avoiding him in the first place.

“Is that him…?”

“The Would-be Saint’s personal servant…”

“His wrist… how unsightly…”

“He doesn’t know his place…”

They would pass by the boy, whispering words filled with contempt and disgust. Their gazes would always linger on his blunt wrist.

“….”

But there was no sign of fear on the boy’s face. Instead, he walked on, looking straight ahead, as if they didn’t even exist.

After walking for who knows how long.

The boy stopped in front of the most beautiful door in the Crystal Palace.

A door adorned with a detailed engraving of a woman praying.

It was a work of art that any priest worth their salt wouldn’t even dare to touch.

*Knock, knock, knock.*

However, the boy knocked on the door without hesitation, his blunt wrist making contact with the wood.

“…”

Silence from behind the door,

The boy shifted his gaze to look outside the window.

The sun was already setting precariously.

The boy knocked again. This time, he added his voice.

“Would-be Saint, it’s time to wake up.”

But all he received was silence.

The boy frowned and looked out the window again.

The sun, starting to peek over the roof of the bell tower, demanded that he make a decision.

“Haah…”

The boy let out an audible sigh and placed his blunt wrist on the door.

*Slide-*

The door opens with a soft creak.

And then, the boy stepped into another world.

Among the many things that the boy saw, nothing was worth less than him.

All the furniture was decorated with gold and jewels, and all the fabrics in the room were silk.

Even a single piece of the carpet that covered the floor was something he couldn’t afford, even if he sold his soul.

A sight that even the most extravagant nouveau riche couldn’t imagine. (TL Note: Nouveau riche are essentially people that’s rich and also like to leisurely just spend their money on anything luxurious)

But irony exists everywhere.

Everything in this room, combined, wasn’t worth as much as the girl sleeping in the bed.

The boy walked towards the girl.

“Would-be Saint.”

The girl’s shoulders twitched, proof that she was awake. But she didn’t open her eyes.

The boy swallowed a sigh and spoke again.

“Would-be Saint, Clara.”

Her long eyelashes fluttered, but instead of waking up, she buried her face deeper into the silk pillow.

Finally, the boy squeezed his eyes shut and said.

“My Lady, it’s time to wake up.”

Only then did the silver-haired girl open her eyes. With the corners of her eyes crinkled, she looked at the black-haired boy.

“Good morning, Rem.”

***

“Carry me.”

It was the first thing the girl demanded after getting out of bed. The boy, not bothering to hide his irritation, said.

“Clara…”

The girl frowned.

“My Lady.”

“…Yes, My Lady.”

The boy corrected himself and continued.

“We don’t have time for this. The Bishop will be here soon for your lessons. You need to get ready quickly…”

“That’s why I said, carry me.”

Then, the girl extended her arms toward the boy, as if to say she wouldn’t tolerate any objections.

The boy didn’t have many choices.

“…Okay.”

He obediently presented his neck to the girl.

As if waiting for this, the girl wrapped her arms around his neck. The boy, in turn, lifted her up, supporting her waist and the back of her knees.

A scene straight out of a fairy tale or a cheap heroic novel.

At first, he thought his back was going to give out, but like everything else, it was something he got used to.

A year had passed, and he could now lift and carry her without even breaking a sweat.

…Of course, it was only for six steps or so.

Even though it’s been over a year since they started this charade, he still didn’t understand why she did it.

“Okay, you can put me down now.”

The girl stepped out of his arms and headed towards the bathroom. Before opening the door, she turns back to the boy and smiles.

“Want to come in with me today, Rem?”

The boy’s face soured.

“…I already showered.”

A clear laugh burst from the girl’s mouth. Then, as if running away, she dashed into the bathroom.

“~♪”

A moment later, a humming sound and the splashing of water could be heard from behind the thin door.

Sounds full of leisure.

On the other hand, the boy who was waiting, grew increasingly anxious.

“Phew…”

It was when the boy’s anxiety had reached its peak that the girl finally came out.

As soon as she sat down in front of the mirror, the boy quickly attached a comb and cloth to his stumpy wrist. While drying the girl’s hair that was still damp, the boy frowned.

“Seriously, My Lady, would it kill you to wake up a little earlier? If you woke up just 10 minutes earlier, my job would be so much easier.”

“Beautiful women naturally love to sleep.”

Beautiful woman my ass, you’re just a kid.

The boy felt those words rise in his throat but managed to swallow them back.

“Even so, you need to be ready before Bishop Ivan arrives. You can’t receive his teachings looking like this, can you?”

“What’s the big deal? Ivan doesn’t even care. He just laughed even when my prayer posture was a mess.”

“No, it’s not about Bishop Ivan…”

*Knock, knock, knock*

Silence descended.

A kind voice washed over it.

“Would-be Saint Clara, it’s Ivan. May I come in?”

It sounded like a death sentence to the boy.

“Sure, come on in.”

And then, like a hand pushing him towards hell…

*Slide-*

Before the boy could react, the door opened and a man walked in.

A face that seemed to have never known a frown.

The corners of his eyes crinkled kindly.

But his hands, rough and large, were a testament to a life that hadn’t been easy.

The man, closest to the Pope, knelt before the girl.

“I, a humble servant, greet the daughter of God.”

“Yeah, good morning to you too, Ivan.”

The girl, dangling her legs, nodded her head halfheartedly. But Ivan simply stood up, unfazed.

Smiling gently, he looked at the boy who was still combing her hair.

“It seems like you had a good night’s sleep. I’m glad you were able to sleep comfortably.”

Not a single hint of annoyance in his voice.

In fact, the boy didn’t think he was being sarcastic.

Ivan Balua, the man he knew, was the embodiment of kindness.

But the boy simply lowered his head, worrying about the fate of his evening.

“More importantly, Ivan, did you bring it?”

The girl, oblivious to the boy’s worries, looked at Ivan, her eyes filled with unconcealed anticipation.

“Of course. Just a moment.”

Smiling brightly, Ivan left the room. When he returned, he had a large teddy bear in his arms.

“Ta-da.”

“…!”

The girl’s eyes widened, and the next moment, she had slipped out of the boy’s hands and was rushing towards the teddy bear.

She hugged the teddy bear, her face beaming with joy. Ivan chuckled and shook his head.

“A silk teddy bear made by a doll artisan. Even I had a hard time finding this. I hope you like…”

Ivan’s words trailed off.

Because something was wrong with the girl.

She had seemed so happy a moment ago, hugging the teddy bear.

But now she was touching it with a disgusted look on her face.

Then, suddenly.

“Rem, come here.”

She said, turning to the boy.

Confusion appeared on the boy’s face. But the girl couldn’t even stand that moment of confusion.

“Hurry uuup-”

Having no other choice, the boy reluctantly stood in front of the girl. And at the girl’s next action, he trembled his voice in embarrassment.

“W-Would-be Saint…?”

“Hmm…”

The girl suddenly hugged the boy and frowned, as if she were checking something. She changes her hugging posture a few times, and even burying her face in his neck.

It was certainly a sight that shouldn’t be seen by anyone else.

But the girl didn’t know shame, and Bishop Ivan simply watched them with an unreadable expression.

In the end, the only one whose face was as red as a beet was the boy.

How much time had passed like this?

The boy, unable to take it anymore, carefully opened his mouth.

“M-My Lady… C-Could you let go now…”

“I like it.”

For a moment, the boy felt a sense of relief.

And then he realized that he had been hasty.

The girl wasn’t talking to him.

“Ivan, throw that away. I don’t need it.”

The girl’s white foot shoved the teddy bear away. Then, she pushed the boy towards the chair she had been sitting on.

The boy caught of guard, stumbled, collapsing onto the chair. The girl naturally climbed on top of him.

The girl hugged the boy’s stiff body.

Then, turning only her head, she looks at Bishop Ivan.

A posture that could only be described as inappropriate.

The girl’s eyes curved into crescents.

“And we’re going to have our lessons like this today.”