SALP Chapter 26

Father Conor was the first to break the silence. Sitting in the chair placed before the bed, he closed his eyes and muttered a short prayer under his breath. Then, exhaling deeply, he spoke in an authoritative voice.

"Repent, Lord."

Lanthe was somewhat flustered, but there was also something understandable about it, so she quietly nodded.

Someone seeking divine grace would need a process of apologizing for doing things forbidden by God, right? But what about emergency patients who are unconscious or on the brink of life and death?

"I have nothing to repent."

Vigo's consciousness was clear enough to answer shamelessly.

Nothing to repent? Even I know of several things. She rolled her eyes at the top of his head.

"What do you think was the reason the Crohiya attacked you, Lord?"

Father Conor's eyes held no wavering as he posed this incomprehensible question to the uncooperative patient. Like Vigo, who'd just coldly stated he had no sins.

"I don't know. I can't even grasp the psychology of the reindeer I've tamed, so how would I understand the psychology of monsters that fraternize with humans?"

"Still, you must know, Lord. Though not every suffering a person experiences stems from their own sins, a considerable portion of the suffering you're experiencing is the result of your own sins."

"...I thought you came to offer healing prayers, but have you come to hurl abuse? Has the Hestan Church no need for the donations I provide?"

The conversation was drifting along a current she couldn't follow.

Lanthe rolled her eyes in confusion.

Crohiya? Monsters? What's that? Didn't he go to the Northern Sea to fight foreigners called Baikans?

"Self-harm is a grave sin, Lord."

At Father Conor's words, which finally fell like a cold verdict, the atmosphere froze icily.

"...I don't understand your meaning."

Vigo muttered without inflection.

But his eyes, now cleared of drowsiness, seemed to give a different answer. That he actually understood what the priest meant, but didn't like that meaning.

"You're even deceiving yourself, Lord."

"If you've grown tired of praying for a heretic, I won't force you, Father."

What are these two even talking about?

"Father Conor."

Unable to bear it any longer, Lanthe interjected despite the rudeness.

"Please offer healing prayers for Vigo. Even though he's lying there flapping his mouth, the wound looked serious."

She couldn't understand either man. Father Conor was cruel for pressing the patient without batting an eye, and she wanted to give Vigo, who stubbornly argued back against the priest and interfered with the prayer ceremony, a good knock on the head.

But healing his injured body came first.

"...I've caused you worry, Sister."

Eventually Father Conor conceded and backed down.

He spread both arms over Vigo and began to pray.

"Hear us... Master who created heaven and earth and governs the life of all things. On behalf of this sinner who suffers as wages for sin, your servant atones and pleads for mercy..."

It was a prayer she often heard. The priest in Roas used to offer similar prayers when someone in the village was ill. An ordinary prayer asking for healing.

While Father Conor prayed, Vigo gazed at empty air with downcast eyes. His gaze held neither repentance nor gratitude, but thick pessimism.

"When you rise from your sickbed, offer penance."

Father Conor spoke after finishing his prayer.

"Until winter passes, you are forbidden from killing and violence. Attacks against yourself are likewise forbidden."

"You've assigned an impossible task."

Vigo's lips twisted faintly.

"I do not request impossible penance. What I've forbidden may be considered an exception in cases that, according to your conscience, are unavoidable acts of defense."

"You mean you trust my conscience?"

"Additionally, for the next month, you are forbidden from entering Batiya Temple."

This time even Vigo looked at him silently, his smile erased as if genuinely surprised.

Lanthe was equally flustered. In a way, since he'd borrowed power granted by Hestan's god, asking him to keep distance from temples serving other gods for a while seemed like a legitimate request...

"You've gotten quite good at playing priest, Sean."

Suddenly Vigo spoke down to the priest with cold mockery.

"Naive people would be completely fooled. Though it seems those who remember what you used to be can't easily accept you as God's priest."

Even at the insulting words, Father Conor looked at him with a calm gaze. Then he merely smiled bitterly.

"Is it acceptable for the Lord of Hermea to persecute Hestan just because you personally are a devotee of Batiya?"

"No. I'm speaking from personal animosity, Sean."

Vigo smiled faintly as he continued.

"Does it make sense that a fair and just lord like me would use my position to persecute a specific religion? Don't misunderstand."

"...Take care. The poison left by the Crohiya will soon fade."

Father Conor didn't respond to Vigo's provocation and withdrew gracefully.

The tense atmosphere barely seemed to settle. After he left, Rix poked his face in with an anxious expression and looked around the room, which at least let Lanthe recover a small smile.

"......"

Vigo closed his eyes with an exhausted air.

They must have had some conflict in the past. But it should be fine now. Anyway, Father Conor's healing prayers were said to be highly effective...

Lanthe watched him for a moment, then quietly rose.

"Where are you going?"

Does he always sleep this lightly?

He sensed her movement like a ghost and stopped her again.

"I'm just going to your bedroom for a moment. I left a book there."

"Rix."

When Vigo called out low, Rix answered vigorously before any command could even fall.

"Yes! I'll go fetch it right away!"

And silence returned.

With no other excuse to leave the room, she sat back down at his bedside.

"What book?"

He spoke to her quietly.

"Stop talking and get some sleep."

"I asked what book."

"Just. A picture book and the Iditi Bible and stuff like that."

"Did Gebimonde teach you to read?"

"I learned from Fiarelle."

She knew the real point of his question wasn't asking about her practical teacher, but Lanthe deliberately mentioned Fiarelle's name to correct him.

"...That person wanted to teach me everything herself."

At that time, only three months remained until the day Lanthe was supposed to marry Derek.

It was a tight period even just to cover the minimum education she urgently needed as Queen of Newbella, but Fiarelle didn't employ other teachers and took on all instruction herself.

To raise Lanthe thoroughly according to her own tastes.

The Raphlishian also knew that what a child learns first has a profound influence on their values. Especially letters and language form the foundation of thought systems—that's why foreign languages shouldn't be learned from or imitated by just anyone.

Lanthe had actually felt this while learning Penmark history and theology in Newbella. A sense of being subtly brainwashed. Surprisingly many people probably don't perceive that sense as foreign.

But she'd grown up with the Raphlishian. Raised by people who aspire to simple, modest lives yet stubbornly maintain their values and faith more firmly than anyone. To her, what Fiarelle tried to instill was nothing more or less than "new knowledge."

"Hmm. So thanks to receiving education from an elite, you've reached the level of reading scriptures that are filthy to interpret."

Vigo rubbed his eyes and drew a strange conclusion.

"What do you mean filthy scriptures? I'm going to tell Father Conor you keep talking badly."

She pulled a pillow like a shield and faced him.

"Go ahead and tell. If Father Conor has any conscience, he can't criticize my speech. People should remember when they were tadpoles."

Lanthe looked at Vigo, who nonchalantly called Father Conor "Father" again and joked as if they were close.

What kind of relationship did they have? Was Father Conor a bad person in the past who repented and became clergy? Could it be related to why Rix and Nina are wary of Father Conor...?

But Vigo only became lord and got to know him within the past few years.

"Anyway, you need to lie still like a patient. Stop talking."

"Massage my arm, captive."

He lay in a proper position but moved only his arm, extending it toward her.

"Why should I massage a perfectly fine arm?"

"It's not fine. I've been lying down in broad daylight, and my limbs are about to go numb."

"Honestly. You're complaining about not working and resting in bed when it's nothing but nice."

When Lanthe frowned and grumbled, he made a small laughing sound.

"The great Lanthe Entridhal doesn't understand this. You had a restless personality too."

Ugh. He's talking about the old days again.

"When, what are you even talking about..."

Her face grew hot for no reason and burned.

"We're adults now. Twenty years old already. Do you think we're still chicks bouncing around all day trying to jump over the chicken coop fence?"

"Wow, you hated Aunt Louise's nagging so much. Now you even sound exactly like her."

A faint smile rose at the corners of his eyes.

It was a familiar smile.