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Chapter 18
You on a Rainy Day (2)
“Lord Viscount.”
“Is Lucy inside?”
“Yes, she’s in the room.”
“And Astein?”
“The young lady is alone.”
“Oh? Why’s that?”
Trisha glanced sideways at Elluciana and whispered softly into Simon’s ear.
“It seems they had a fight.”
“Hm. So that’s why she looks so prickly.”
As Trisha stepped aside with a chuckle, Simon walked over to Elluciana, who sat stiffly, not moving an inch.
“Your father’s here and you’re not even going to say hello?”
Only then did Elluciana, who had been deliberately looking away, turn to face Simon.
“…Father, you’re here?”
“My daughter doesn’t seem happy to see me.”
“No, I’m very happy.”
Simon smiled slightly as he sat across from her.
“Really? You look more disappointed than glad.”
“That’s—”
“Were you perhaps waiting for someone?”
“W-Waiting? Who would I be waiting for? I’m definitely not waiting for anyone!”
Elluciana instinctively raised her voice, then blushed and avoided his gaze.
Simon stifled a laugh as he covered his mouth with a clenched fist, watching her flustered profile.
“If you say so, I’ll take your word for it. Haha.”
“Then why are you laughing? I told you it’s not like that!”
“All right, all right. I believe you. Hahaha.”
Despite his words, his expression showed he didn’t believe her at all. Trisha, standing behind, also struggled to suppress her laughter.
Feeling teased, Elluciana tried to hide her pout and quickly changed the subject.
“So… were you about to go out somewhere, Father?”
Simon always dressed neatly and fashionably, but today, some details in his outfit seemed especially refined.
“I have business at the temple.”
“…The temple?”
Elluciana’s face darkened slightly at the sound of the rain pouring down outside.
Perhaps aware of his daughter’s worry, Simon gently smiled and stroked her head.
“It’s not far. Don’t worry.”
“Do you really have to go today? The rain is coming down hard.”
“I made this appointment a month ago. Blaming the weather would be a poor excuse—I’m eager to get this done.”
“…It’s about the ointment, right?”
Simon chuckled fondly as he stood up.
“You never know when my daughter might get hurt again. This father should be prepared.”
“I’m sorry. I should’ve used it more sparingly.”
“No need to say such things. I care more about your peace of mind than using up some salve. Besides, I also need to stop by the shelter.”
“The shelter… Oh! You’re giving extra food to the slums today, right?”
“You remembered, Lucy.”
“Of course I did. It was just… yesterday, after all.”
The shelter they’d used to hide Astein from “that person” had ended up causing a bit of chaos. Because of her, they hadn’t been able to finish the food distribution.
‘I didn’t expect so many people to show up.’
To the higher nobility, the Viscount of Wires was a troublesome thorn in their side, but to the people—especially those in the slums—he was widely respected and supported. So, the sudden appearance of the reclusive daughter of the viscount had been a rare and moving event for them.
Elluciana tried to shake the memory of the teary, awestruck faces as she spoke in a more subdued tone.
“But even with all this rain, do you think people will come? Wouldn’t it be better to delay the distribution?”
“Haha, Lucy, to them, the rain doesn’t matter. Hunger is harder to bear than any natural disaster.”
“I wasn’t thinking deeply enough. That didn’t occur to me.”
“Now you understand well.”
Simon beamed at her proudly.
“Um… Father?”
“If you have something to say, don’t hesitate, Lucy.”
Encouraged by his gentle tone, Elluciana cautiously asked,
“Um… are you going to keep the shelter open permanently?”
Simon didn’t answer immediately, seemingly surprised by the question, and looked at her.
“Hundreds of people come and go every day. Keeping it open at all times seems a bit inefficient.”
Well… it wasn’t really about inefficiency—she was more worried about the future.
Elluciana masked her concern and wore a curious expression.
When she first heard about the “Poor Relief Project,” she had thought, Ah, truly noble! Noblesse oblige!
Using excess wealth to help the vulnerable seemed admirable and praiseworthy.
But once she realized how much money this project was devouring, her worries began to mount.
The shelter Simon operated wasn’t just a shelter.
It provided medical treatment, food, clothing, sometimes even jobs and housing, and even a little cash.
Though the number of visitors had decreased compared to before, dozens to nearly a hundred people still came every day.
So from her frugal, small-town perspective, it was a major concern.
Sensing her hidden worry, Simon smiled kindly and said,
“Are you worried that the family’s finances will run dry?”
“…It’s more that I’m worried about your health, Father.”
“My health?”
“Yes. There’s already more than enough family business to deal with, and now you’re taking on outside matters too. I’m afraid you might collapse. I heard you provided not only grains this time but plenty of daily necessities as well?”
“Hmm, there seems to be a misunderstanding. That’s… something I’ve done every year.”
Hearing that the scale was even bigger than she thought, Elluciana felt a chill run down her spine.
Wait… is that your idea of an excuse? If you keep handing things out everywhere like that, how will the family’s wealth survive? Even if your land sprouted gold, an empty pot can’t keep being filled. You’ll end up ruined, Father!
Oblivious to her internal frustration, Simon gently patted her head.
“Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll protect you no matter what.”
Elluciana opened her mouth as if to argue, then swallowed her sigh. It wasn’t just Simon’s stubbornness, but the memory of those innocent, thin faces in the slum from the day before that kept her silent.
“Don’t worry about your old man. Just rest, Lucy. I’ll be back safely.”
Simon hugged her tightly and left the room.
Elluciana turned back to the window. She saw the carriage bearing the Wires family crest exiting the gate.
Was it just the rare downpour?
A strange sense of unease gnawed at her.
Meanwhile…
“You’ve come despite the rough roads.”
An elderly priest in pristine white robes greeted Simon with a gentle smile.
“A promise is a promise—I must keep it.”
“A noble sentiment. This way, please.”
The old priest guided Simon through the temple. As they walked deep inside along a long white corridor, an elegant and antique-looking door eventually appeared—very different from the temple’s plain entrance.
“You may enter.”
“…Thank you.”
Smiling slightly, the old priest turned and left. Simon took a deep breath, then knocked on the door.
Knock knock.
“Come in.”
Inside was a lavishly decorated room filled with all kinds of luxuries. It was far too ornate for a servant of the gods. And—
That scent again…
The peculiar fragrance only found in the High Priest’s chamber. The longer it lingered, the more it dulled one’s concentration. Simon instinctively frowned.
“May the blessing of the god be with you.”
“And also with you.”
“Lord Wires, please have a seat.”
The High Priest gestured with a kind smile and poured tea as he sat across from Simon.
“Please, have some.”
“…Thank you.”
After taking a sip, the High Priest spoke smoothly.
“You need more of the special ointment?”
“Yes.”
“You already used up what I gave you last time? That amount should have lasted for months.”
“…We used it rather generously.”
“Hm. This puts me in a difficult position. As you know, the supply is scarce, and many are waiting. Some have waited over a year.”
“I understand. I will compensate you generously.”
The High Priest’s eyes gleamed at that and he pushed a wooden box forward across the table.
“Good thing I saved a special batch. I’ve packed it well.”
“…Thank you for the consideration.”
“But… I heard there was some trouble in the slums yesterday?”
Simon’s expression darkened as he opened the box to check the contents.
“You hear news quickly.”
“I heard your daughter went to the slums herself, and the relief work was interrupted?”
“…That issue will be resolved today.”
The High Priest raised a cup to his lips, smirking faintly.
“Well, of course. A viscount who swore in the name of the god must not defy that will. Don’t you agree?”
A faint wrinkle creased and disappeared from Simon’s brow as he quietly sighed.
“I will not go against the god’s will.”
“I trust you won’t. After all, you fought so hard to save your daughter’s life—you wouldn’t throw it away now. But remember this: there is no mercy in the wrath of the divine.”
“I will keep that in mind. May I take my leave now?”
The High Priest nodded with a serene smile as he set his teacup down.
“Of course. If you follow the god’s will, who am I to stop you?”
He stood and placed his hand over his heart, bowing slightly.
“Then until next time. May the god’s blessing be with you.”
“And also with you…”
As Simon left the room, the High Priest moved to the window. On the windowsill sat a pot with a small, delicate purple flower.
Looking down at it with a serene smile, the High Priest murmured,
“You did well today.”
Shh. He opened the window and placed the flower pot outside.
Even a priest with strong purification powers could only withstand the scent for so long—it was poisonous in excess.
A flower that could turn desperate wishes into false truths.
Its name was—The Flower of Hallucination.
