“I’ll help out diligently too. I saw earlier that we ran out of potatoes, so I’ll just go buy some.”
Gilbert scratched his chin with his thick hand and grunted.
“Alright, go and come back.”
I quickly stepped outside, worried Gilbert might hold me back. The marketplace was already bustling with preparations for morning business. The merchants’ shouts, the sound of cart wheels dragging, and the smell of freshly baked bread all mixed together, making my head spin.
Soon I approached the ahjussi selling potatoes and greeted him with a smile.
“Two sacks of potatoes, please.”
“Oh, good morning, Sion. That big guy seems to have no energy today.”
“I think some important adventurer is coming. He looked like he couldn’t even sleep.”
The shop owner laughed heartily and handed over the potatoes. I took out 1 penny from my pocket and finished paying. Then I noticed some mushy peach-like fruit placed to the side.
“Are you selling the fruit on the side?”
“No. It tastes good but they’re all mushy. Want some?”
“Yes, thank you! Sweet.”
I even bowed deeply and picked up the potato sacks. When I took a bite of the mushy fruit, the flesh dissolved and sweet juice spread through my mouth. As the sweet nectar moistened the tip of my tongue, my tension quietly eased.
“As expected, fruit tastes best when it’s ripe.”
Even though they couldn’t be sold due to poor marketability, this was actually when they tasted best. I took another bite of the fruit and, hugging the potato sacks, made my way toward the inn.
But the moment I pushed the door open, the atmosphere completely changed. The marketplace’s liveliness I’d felt just moments ago still vivid in my ears, the fruit’s sweetness still lingering in my mouth, yet inside the inn was filled with tension as if cold water had been dumped over everything.
“…Huh?”
Gilbert behind the counter. His face had gone pale white, frozen like a stone.
His gaze was fixed unwaveringly on one table.
I slowly turned my head, following Gilbert’s line of sight.
Sitting there was a woman whose entire body was covered in a robe with her hood pulled down deep. Her face wasn’t visible, but just from her smooth curves and the silhouette subtly showing through, one could immediately tell she was a beauty. White hair flowed softly over her pale hand reaching for a spoon, glimmering gently.
Next to her sat a man with a well-built physique. Silver hair flowed down as if emitting light, and his ice-like blue eyes shone coldly. From the man’s posture—arms crossed without even the slightest movement—an overwhelming presence that made one hold their breath emanated, even though he was merely sitting there.
I froze in place, clutching the potato sacks. My heart pounded loudly, and those beats continued to strike my chest like waves without any sign of stopping.
Because I could tell at a glance who they were.
[In the year Amelia turned eighteen, she fully awakened as a Saint. She always lamented her fate. Just because she was born with holy power, why did she have to become a Saint?
From childhood, with her overflowing holy power alone, she’d earned the title of ‘the chosen child.’ The complete awakening that followed changed her life in an instant. Being treated well and living affluently was certainly a blessing. However, at the same time, she was given endless salvation and service as her mission.
For Amelia, who extremely hated bothersome things, awakening was both a blessing and shackles. Nevertheless, she had lived as she was taught, firmly suppressing her innate laziness and wearing a benevolent face like a mask. Even if she occasionally muttered complaints, the fact that Amelia fundamentally belonged to ‘good’ never changed.]
My throat dried up and I tried to swallow, but only a parching thirst that seemed to burn me up tightened around my throat.
Although she wore a robe that hid her appearance, that woman was definitely Amelia.
White hair and green eyes, the protagonist of the original work and the key figure driving the narrative of this world.
And the man sitting beside her was the Saint’s escort and the Empire’s Knight Commander, Theorde Valen Hart.
Even in the original work he was described as an overwhelmingly handsome man, but seeing him in person, he really looked like a sculpture that had walked out of a museum.
“Does it… suit your… taste?”
Unlike his build, Gilbert was sweating profusely and asked as if his life depended on it. I too carefully took a step closer and gulped.
Then, the Saint smiled faintly from within her hood.
“One cannot expect luxurious cuisine in such a place. However, I should be grateful that it can sustain life.”
Her tone was gentle, but the content left a strange dissonance.
…No wait, listening carefully, isn’t she just saying it tastes bad?
I looked at her with a peculiar expression, while Gilbert, not understanding her intent, wiped his sweat and breathed a sigh of relief. He looked like he’d gotten over a hurdle.
“Th-that’s a relief…”
However, the Saint picked up her spoon again and continued speaking calmly.
“Though the pleasure food provides is lacking, at the very least it alleviates the pain of hunger… I suppose that too is a blessing.”
She IS saying it tastes bad!
I was so flabbergasted my jaw dropped. Did she think we wouldn’t understand, or was this just her personality—saying such things so openly?
Come to think of it, the Saint in the original novel was a Saint in name only—in reality, she was lazy with a subtly stubborn personality. Even now, she was ultimately just wearing a mask, pretending to be refined while speaking in roundabout ways.
Then again, wasn’t the setting of a Saint being a gourmet an error to begin with?
Still, Gilbert’s cooking had a reputation for being delicious, so hearing such an assessment delivered with a straight face made my stomach churn and my expression crumple.
Then the Saint’s gaze shifted toward me.
“By the way, the staff member beside him doesn’t look very composed. Are you perhaps feeling unwell?”
Now she’s criticizing my expression?
“Huh, are you sick?”
When even Gilbert started fussing beside me, my sense of injustice doubled.
The Saint took a few more spoonfuls then put down her spoon. That sight somehow lit a fire in my heart. Yet Gilbert calmly tried to place his hand on my forehead.
“Ah, would you stop?!”
Eventually, irritated, we ended up in a small scuffle, lightly batting each other’s arms. Watching this, the Saint covered her mouth with her fingertips and smiled.
“Are you father and son?”
“What?”
“What?!”
We immediately looked at each other.
That big guy with his split beard looks like me? I really wanted to deny it immediately out of sheer injustice, but the problem was… my similar chestnut-colored hair came to mind and I was rendered speechless.
Moreover, we both had wild curls thick enough to cover our eyes. Good grief, what an unfair case of being two peas in a pod.
Gilbert must have noticed something too, as he laughed awkwardly and stroked his beard.
“You do resemble each other quite well.”
…Ah, I can’t stand this. My mood got even worse than before.
I clenched my teeth and deliberately spoke slowly and clearly.
“…Yes, indeed. Due to this sudden early visit, my. Fa. Ther. hastily prepared it, so I dare say I’m concerned. If it wouldn’t be rude, might I re-prepare the dish for you?”
The Saint’s eyes gleamed with interest.
“Right here and now? If it’s possible, I shall wait with pleasure.”
With those words, I immediately dashed into the kitchen. Gilbert, who hurriedly followed, shouted.
“Hey, kid! What are you doing!”
“That’s it, right?”
When I pointed at the bubbling stew pot, Gilbert nodded with a bewildered expression. I picked up a ladle and muttered.
“I’ll show you the finest taste from now on.”
“Wait, why are you suddenly like this? She just complimented it.”
“What compliment?! She was saying it tasted bad in a roundabout way!”
When I rarely raised my voice, Gilbert flinched and stepped back. Then he muttered reluctantly, like making an excuse.
“How would I know how those high-ups talk? She said it nicely so I just thought it was nice… I didn’t know that sounded so offensive to your ears.”
“……”
At those words, I bit my lip hard and swallowed my words. Gilbert patted my shoulder as if embarrassed.
“Sion…”
“You only call me Sion at times like this?”
When I snapped back sharply, Gilbert withdrew his hand.
“Anyway, I can never get used to how those noble bastards talk, no matter how many times I hear it. Was it really that bad?”
He said nobles, not adventurers. He must have caught on too. That these guests weren’t ordinary. No, since Theorde is the Empire’s Knight Commander, he might have recognized him immediately by face alone. If so, he probably also guessed that the person he’s escorting isn’t ordinary either.
“When do you even hear nobles talk, boss? How often do they even come to the inn?”
“Well, that’s…”
“Get out. I’m making it alone.”
“Still, someone should be by your side…”
“Ah, I said get out! This is a trade secret!”
Eventually Gilbert left the kitchen as if being chased out. As soon as the door closed, I carefully took out a small packet I’d portioned out from my belongings.
MSG.
My face reflected on the surface of the clear stew was still blurry, hidden by my bangs.
As I stared at my face rippling and swaying as if disturbed by waves, a memory I’d buried for a long time surfaced.
It was a day before the college entrance exam.
