Chapter 22
“H-He’s sending me out?”
Unaware of what was going through Rima’s mind, Duke Kallaroff de Gladius continued speaking.
“Of course, I’ll still take responsibility for your food, shelter, and education. But I think it’s good for you to try earning your own allowance.”
“That sounds fun!”
Rubens stretched both arms high into the air, full of enthusiasm.
“What kind of work do we do?”
“I’ll let the staff know ahead of time. Just help them with simple tasks—pulling weeds, cleaning, things like that.”
With a promise that the tasks would be easy, Kallaroff dismissed the children from his office.
“Oh, right.”
He stopped Rima as she was about to leave.
“That thing we talked about before.”
“Sorry?”
“Behind the picture frame.”
“…Ah! Oh—yes!”
Rima straightened up, flustered.
“D-Did you find it? There was proof, right?”
“…Yes.”
Kallaroff’s brow twitched slightly.
But Rima, too caught up in relief, didn’t notice.
“Thank goodness…”
“I called you in just to tell you that. You can go now.”
“……”
“Is there something else you want to say?”
“N-No, sir!”
She quickly bowed and hurried out of the room.
Once the door was firmly shut, Kallaroff returned to his paperwork—but something bothered him. He lifted his head again and looked at the closed door.
The girl who had just been there…
“D-Did you find it? There was proof, right?”
The way her eyes lit up, her healthier complexion…
The bit of fullness in her cheeks, the richer pink in her hair.
But none of that was what unsettled him.
“Lord Gonja, what is this…?”
“A s-salary book?”
Her pronunciation.
“D-Did you find it? There was proof, right?”
“Thank goodness…”
“N-No, sir!”
Her speech had been uncertain before, but just now—when the picture frame was mentioned—it had suddenly become clear and precise.
Was it just that the words were short and easy to say?
The feeling of unease lingered.
Still, Kallaroff decided to set it aside for now.
After all, she was a child brought here under his sponsorship.
“She’s my responsibility until she becomes an adult. It’s wrong to judge a child based on unfounded suspicions.”
He took a steady breath and returned to his paperwork.
[Said there was proof behind the picture frame?]
Unfortunately, Muniel’s old note floated back into his mind, keeping his caution sharp.
Rima stood just outside the office, staring blankly at the salary book in her hands.
The back of her head throbbed.
It felt like someone had smacked her with a stick—without warning.
“…Is he insane?”
Work? He wanted her to work?
Manual labor?
“He still doesn’t suspect I might be his daughter? I mean, come on—just look at my hair! It’s clearly my mother’s pink!”
Growing increasingly agitated, Rima ran her fingers through her soft, pink hair.
She’d inherited it from the Duke’s late wife.
The more she thought about it, the angrier she became.
“He should be handing me deeds or jewelry—not a silly little notebook!”
An allowance, earned like a child’s game?
And she had to help the staff and get it recorded to receive any money?
“I’m the lost daughter of Duke Kallaroff de Gladius! Why should I be doing labor? That’s for servants!”
A proper noble daughter doesn’t earn her living like this.
“My kind of labor is finding talented people to work for me! That’s it!”
A genius exploited by society.
Or maybe a brilliant jeweler struggling to pay for a sick family member’s medicine.
Once she discovered someone like that and offered them her help, that would be her contribution.
The rest—well, her charming, capable father and older brothers would handle it. Along with the male leads and loyal servants hopelessly devoted to her.
“All I have to do is sip sweet tea, nibble on desserts, and worry from time to time. That’s my role!”
Her anger still bubbling, Rima suddenly heard laughter nearby.
She turned her head and saw Aldo and Rubens.
Rubens was beaming with excitement, chatting away.
“This feels like being a grown-up! Right, Aldo?”
“Yeah. It’s… refreshing, I guess.”
Aldo acted as though he knew nothing, carefully hiding the fact that the salary book idea had been his suggestion in the first place.
“I think it’s a great idea. We don’t really understand how important and difficult labor is. It’ll be a good experience.”
“Oooh! That’s a pretty cool thing to say, Aldo!”
“You’re cool too, Rubens.”
To any onlooker, they looked like kind, affectionate brothers.
It was the kind of warm scene that made hearts soften—but to Rima, it was nothing short of terrifying.
Why aren’t they fighting?
Why do they get along so well?
Rima had never once seen the brothers argue.
The worst she’d ever witnessed was Rubens whining to play with Aldo—and Aldo would simply go along with it, ending things peacefully.
This is wrong. According to what I wrote, they should be drawing swords and magic at each other, fighting over who gets to share dessert with me…
Oh no!
Rima’s face turned pale as she suddenly bolted down the hallway.
“…Whoa, she’s fast.”
Rubens blinked as Rima flew past them.
“Guess she’s really healthy now.”
“Looks like it,” Aldo replied with a small smile.
“Her speech sounded totally fine too, didn’t it?”
“You noticed too?”
Rubens pointed to himself proudly.
“Her pronunciation was so clear earlier. Must be because of money.”
“Money?”
“Grandma Muniel told me once—money’s a cure-all. It can fix almost anything.”
“Haha, she’s not wrong.”
Aldo looked in the direction Rima had run, his smile turning ever so slightly sharp.
“Must’ve been a very… materialistic illness.”
Back in the guest room, Rima dug through her bookshelf.
She reached behind the books and pulled out a stack of papers—notes she’d written with all the setting details of her story.
I didn’t think much of it before since we’re still in the early chapters…
She quickly flipped through the pages, scanning her writing.
“…There it is!”
Her finger stopped.
“Yes! This! Magic Contamination!”
The de Gladius family had led the empire to victory in a great war forty years ago, but as a result, they’d suffered from the lingering effects of magical contamination.
And that condition had been passed down through their bloodline—to their descendants.
Those affected by the contamination were always angry, easily agitated, and often lacked moral restraint.
I’m the only one who can heal them. After all, I’m a Saint whose holy power is sealed—
The holy power sealed within Rima’s body could purify the tainted magic, clearing people’s minds. Subconsciously drawn to this, the de Gladius family members would become obsessed with her.
“But then why…”
Rima stared at the page, her voice sounding like it had been squeezed out.
“Why are things so peaceful?”
For the first time in a while, it was announced that the Saint herself would be leading the Sunday morning mass.
Pilgrims came from all over the empire to the capital to attend.
They arrived with white and black veils over their heads and worn rosaries clutched in their hands as they prayed.
“Everyone.”
Wearing white ceremonial robes for the first time in a long while, Muniel stepped forward and addressed the packed temple with a voice full of blessing.
“Please… stop coming to morning mass on weekends.”
The gathered crowd blinked in confusion, thinking they must’ve misheard.
“The great God above blesses your health and your ability to sleep in. Please stop dragging this old woman out on weekend mornings.”
I’m not young anymore, you know. My body isn’t what it used to be.
And these young priests can’t even be bothered to bring me a chair.
My back hurts. My joints ache.
I really shouldn’t have drop-kicked the old emperor forty years ago…
“……”
“……”
The congregation’s faces slowly began to freeze in confusion.
“Snrrkkk…”
From somewhere, a snoring sound echoed through the hall.
“Over there, please look.”
Muniel pointed with a sorrowful expression.
“That child was dragged here early in the morning just to hear the Saint speak, and look at her—suffering.”
“Uuuh…”
Nivellia whimpered softly, asleep in Caleo’s arms.
Her veil had long since become a blanket, and a tiny stream of drool escaped from her slightly open mouth.
“Hearing me preach won’t get you into heaven. It won’t absolve your sins, either.”
The Saint drew the sign of the cross and clasped her wrinkled hands together.
“Look around you. Practice kindness and consideration for others. That’s the true path to heaven. And if any of you are still smoking on the street—straight to hell with you. Even after I die, I’ll make sure you don’t get away with it.”
And with that, Muniel’s sermon ended.
Outside the temple, Caleo let out the sigh he’d been holding back.
Nivellia, still fast asleep, lay nestled in his arms.
“Every time I wonder… why is my mother the Saint?”
“I think it’s kind of great.”
Celletina smiled gently as she looked down the long line of people still waiting outside.
Muniel’s bold sermon might have been jarring, but she never neglected her duty.
“You’ve come from far away. From now on, pray at your local temples and show your faith through love for your neighbors. That alone will earn your place in heaven.”
“Are your knees alright? I understand and relate more now that I’m getting older myself.”
“You haven’t even had breakfast? Be sure to eat next time, alright? And if your parents try to drag you here in the morning, run.”
Muniel placed her hand gently on each visitor’s head and offered a blessing.
She looked each of them in the eyes, listened to their stories, and responded with words meant just for them.
“Thanks to Mother, the temple no longer uses religion as a shield for power, and the Imperial Court doesn’t need to tiptoe around them anymore. They can finally focus more on the people.”
Celletina smiled again, soft and serene.
Some things really are for the best.
