Chapter 11
Ninia found out why people hated her. She realized it a little late, but if she hadn’t gone out into the hallway then, she might have remained oblivious for much longer. In a way, it was a relief.
Having stood for a long while beyond the corner of the hallway, Ninia dazedly turned around. She couldn’t quite remember how she had walked and walked. Her slow steps gradually quickened.
‘I… I didn’t want to become like this either.’
She had already once given up her attachment to life. Thinking her life was now meant to be offered, she had been able to ascend the sacrificial altar with ease. Therefore, Ninia’s life should have ended there.
She had never wished to be cloaked in a shell so magnificent it was almost grandiose, only to be condemned by those who knew that there was nothing inside.
Her quick pace was now almost a run. Although she could see ahead, everything was dark, as if she had lost her sight. Eventually, as she was dashing forward, she collided with someone like a blind person.
“…Ah.”
Even though she had been running, it was Ninia who fell backward. The ice-cold floor, along with a dull ache, jolted Ninia’s senses. Slowly blinking, Ninia raised her head. The person she had bumped into was Severus, the butler of Lentus Castle.
“Your Ladyship. What are you doing here?”
He asked, looking down at the fallen Ninia. Severus had been a butler serving another noble but was abandoned during the evacuation. Tarahan had taken Severus in and appointed him to the position of butler in charge of managing the castle.
Severus and his former master also had many grievances against the gods, and there was not a single person working here who was not indebted to Tarahan’s grace.
A watchful gaze pierced Ninia. Severus was practically treating her like a spy. Ninia got up on her own and said,
“…Nothing. I’m going back to my room.”
“You’ve come too far; it will be difficult for you to return. I shall escort you.”
Severus’s words were slick, but he was concerned that Ninia might stray onto another path instead of returning to her room. It was also a warning not to wander around as she pleased.
Ninia returned to her room, guided by the butler. In the meantime, the room had grown chilly, becoming no different from the hallway.
Ninia endured the cold of the unlit room. Later, Rosa brought her dinner and lit some charcoal, but it took a considerable amount of time for the once-chilled room to retain any heat.
That night, Ninia, who fell asleep as if she had lost consciousness, had another nightmare.
If the first nightmare was of the day she was offered as a sacrifice, this time it was a dream of being burned at the stake, condemned as the Witch of the North.
The maids threw stones at Ninia, who was tied to a post, and the men brought straw and piled it high beneath her feet. Soon, a fire was lit at her feet.
The fire blazed as spectacularly as a sacred flame in the North, consuming Ninia.
The nightmares continued, and Ninia woke up from the same dream again today. She curled up her body against the chill she felt as soon as she woke.
‘Am I cold? Or am I hot?’
How useless must I be to not even know something like this.
She thought to herself as she wiped the cold sweat from her forehead. Her vision was blurry, and she couldn’t see well. Her body, trying to get out of bed, tipped toward the floor.
This time, even the cold floor couldn’t awaken Ninia’s senses. Finally, her vision completely faded away.
🌻🌻🌻
Thick thermal curtains, carpets, and several warming pans filled with hot charcoal were piled in the corners of the room, warming it. Despite the now quite warm temperature, the woman lying in bed was trembling as if she had turned to ice.
“Again.”
The doctor, Krove, who was examining the former saintess, clicked his tongue. Contrary to her shivering from cold, the patient’s body was burning with fever.
“She won’t last a few years.”
The current fever wasn’t life-threatening, but the problem was the cycle of a persistent low-grade fever that would repeatedly spike into a high fever.
If this continued, a time would come when her strength would wane and her body would be unable to endure. The northern cold was harsh even for those born and raised here; for an outsider, it was all the more unforgiving.
‘Still, I have to bring the fever down for now.’
It would be a problem for him if she died right now. Krove let a potion that lowered body temperature trickle into Ninia’s mouth. Her beautiful face faintly contorted at the bitter taste of the green medicine before relaxing. Looking down at the pale-faced woman, Krove clicked his tongue again.
“Why did she have to come to the North?”
Krove was a man who shuddered at the mere thought of anything related to the gods.
He could not understand why a person couldn’t treat another person. The temple insisted that since the body was bestowed by the goddess, even the body’s wounds must be touched by the hand of God.
‘Gods, my foot. The amount of wealth the temple has amassed by putting forward something that doesn’t even exist.’
The temple had monopolized the position of physician for commoners, nobles, and even the emperor. That wasn’t all. Because even medical supplies and drugs had to be blessed by God, even those destined for military use had to pass through the temple. The wealth the temple had accumulated in this way surpassed even the emperor’s.
He practiced medicine in the slums with others in a similar situation. But if the tail is too long, it gets caught. Eventually, Krove, now a fugitive, came to the North to seek asylum in another country, and just then, war broke out.
Captured by Gilfurth’s soldiers, he was treated like a slave until he was rescued by Tarahan’s army. Fortunately, the brown-skinned lord was not a man who believed in gods. Krove was able to work as a doctor under him. It was his first step from the shadows into the light.
“What were those temple bastards thinking, sending this woman here?”
Krove, who had been stirring powdered medicine and water provided by the pharmacist, slammed the bowl down irritably. The Grand Duke may have needed a pretext, but it was a mystery why the temple had handed over the saintess.
“They probably didn’t need her anymore.”
Krove was also one of the many who had heard of the saintess’s fame.
The image the temple had built up because of the saintess was immense. They had even paraded her through high society, so one could say she was at her peak. But the reason for stripping her of the saintess title and exiling her to the North could only be seen as one thing: she was no longer of any use.
‘It’s annoying, but.’
He found the temple detestable, and the same went for this woman who had adorned their image so splendidly and beautifully.
But Ninia didn’t refuse treatment, nor did she condemn him as a demon. He had even heard that she took the medicine he prescribed.
A believer in the goddess would have shuddered at a doctor’s prescription or injection, viewing it as some filth dug up from hell. Since she showed no such behavior, even he, known for his cantankerous nature, felt his heart soften.
“Huh?”
It was while Krove was mixing the medicine, glaring irritably at Ninia. Ninia’s eyelids twitched minutely. Did I see wrong? As Krove narrowed his eyes, the woman’s eyelids opened.
Her eyes were as blue as a winter lake. Ninia’s two eyes looked so blue and transparent that even Krove, who didn’t believe people had souls, felt as though a radiant spirit slumbered within her. She blinked slowly, then looked at him and said,
“…I know why you hate me.”
Then, she gazed silently at the flustered Krove before closing her eyes again. As if it had never happened, the sound of her soft, even breathing filled the room.
Krove stared blankly at the sleeping Ninia for a long time. When he checked her temperature again, it had dropped somewhat compared to before.
The single sentence Ninia left behind was not an accusation. Perhaps it was closer to an apology filled with resignation.
At least, that’s how it sounded to Krove.
🌻🌻🌻
For several days, Ninia repeatedly woke and fell back asleep. The fever seemed to drop with ease, only to flare up again, draining her energy. The cold, unbearable for a southerner, was a problem, but the reason she was so bedridden might have been a remnant from when she was offered as a sacrifice.
It was only after three days that Ninia was finally able to stay awake for more than three hours. Then, the next day.
Krove visited her room again for Ninia’s follow-up examination. Ninia was fast asleep. At least it’s not a high fever. As Krove nodded, looking at the thermometer, the door opened with a thud without a knock.
“Good heavens, my heart!”
Krove, who had been sitting in a chair, jumped up and turned around to unleash a torrent of curses. But he shut his mouth as soon as he recognized the intruder. A face that could instantly quell any anger appeared before him.
“Is it a fatal illness?”
The master of the castle, who must have returned at some point, stood askew and asked, looking back and forth between Krove and Ninia.
“That is not the case.”
Krove answered immediately, unable to even swallow his dry saliva. He was about to explain Ninia’s symptoms in more detail when,
“Then that’s settled.”
Tarahan turned and left the room. Krove was so dumbfounded he didn’t even think to stop him.
“What in the world is wrong with that guy…”
Krove muttered in disbelief, then, just in case, he approached the door, peered down the hallway, and was greatly relieved to see no one there.
“…”
Ninia, who had opened her eyes at some point and had been watching his antics, closed her eyes once more.
