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After going to the city and providing treatment at the clinic run by the church, I also participated in a soup kitchen organized by a church near the lower town as part of my volunteer work. There, I distributed bread, soup, and a small treat I recently started making as a personal touch (this time, it was madeleines) to slum children, war orphans, and wounded soldiers. By the time I finished, more than half of the day had passed.

“Lady Clara, thank you so much!”
“Lady Clara, can I really take some of these sweets for my little brothers, too?!”
“Thank you so much! Thanks to your advice, my beriberi is cured.”
“Thank you for purifying the graveyard on the outskirts of town. All of us residents are deeply grateful.”
“Thank you so much, Lady Clara. Because of you, my fingers can move again, and I can go back to work.”
“Thanks to your encouragement, my husband finally started working again.”
“Thanks to you petting my head, my stupidity is finally healed!”
“Thanks to seeing you, I finally started loving girls older than thirteen!”
“Lady Clara! Lady Clara!”

Waving back to everyone who sent me off with smiles, I put away my remaining supplies in my Close spell, holding onto only my staff, which was nearly as tall as I was. Slowly, I set off back to the church I belonged to, taking in the sights of Thera Maryth, the capital of the Eunice Theocracy.

In the northern region of the continent, security is poor, making it dangerous for a woman to walk alone even within city limits (though, of course, I have someone accompanying me). However, here, a city often referred to as the “Holy Capital” or the “Religious City,” a high percentage of residents are followers of the Saintess’ Church, so the security is relatively good. As I walked through the city, many strangers respectfully made the sign of the cross upon seeing my white, shrine maiden attire and greeted me.

“Thank you for your hard work, Lady Clara.”
“Thank you. May you be well.”

Having spent more than ten months here, I’ve grown accustomed to returning these greetings naturally with a smile.

Even so, there’s a slight sense of discomfort, as if being constantly watched by the residents in an uncomfortable way.

On the way back, I passed a kebab stand with a tempting aroma of spices, holding my stomach as it grumbled softly. Swallowing reflexively, I murmured to myself.

“Sigh… I suppose it wouldn’t do to eat street food dressed like this.”

I spent the entire day running around without a proper meal, only tasting bits from the soup kitchen. Naturally, I’m feeling both tired and hungry. However, as a clergy—especially a shrine maiden who values purity and modesty—it wouldn’t be fitting for me to buy food from a roadside stall. Even if my stomach approved, society would certainly disapprove.

It’s inconvenient at times like these… I thought, feeling a pang of regret as I walked past a tempting food cart. Just then, I happened to cross paths with a girl wearing the same white shrine maiden attire as mine.

While I was on foot, she was in a white-painted carriage, and by coincidence, we made eye contact as her carriage stopped at an intersection.

“Oh, Adelheid. On your way home? You must be exhausted, playing the waitress every time you venture down to the lower town. Trying to win their hearts is all well and good, but I certainly couldn’t stoop that low. —Though, I hear you’ve become quite skilled at it, so perhaps you’re merely returning to your roots? As a proper shrine maiden of the Saintess’ Church, one must carry themselves with elegance, even more so than nobility. Do you really think you’re up to the task? Do you really think you’re capable of that? Well, you seem to be getting by with a bit of showmanship for now, but it would be best if you didn’t push yourself too hard. If you feel too much of an overachiever, perhaps it’s best to step down before you embarrass yourself? Oh-hohohoho! Try not to reveal your true colors, will you, Miss Charlatan?”

The mockery in her words was clear, and the younger shrine maiden apprentices with her, all around early teens, snickered and watched for my reaction with smug looks.

—Good lord… such a blatant attempt at provocation.

Rather than feeling anger at their condescension, I found myself marveling, Wow, people who actually cover their mouths and laugh with an ‘Oh-hohoho’ exist! as though I’d encountered a rare creature. I couldn’t help but stare at her refined face.

Her name, by the way, is Eliza Farias, age fifteen—a year older than me. Her baptismal name is “Barbara.” She’s also a shrine maiden, but unlike me, she’s a true blue-blood, with both parents coming from a line of high-ranking clergymen in the order.

Given her personality, it’s only natural that Eliza would find me—a regular person suddenly recruited by the Order six months ago and fast-tracked to the rank of official miko, skipping about eight steps—both suspicious and irritating. Anyone would feel the same. I feel the same.

Granted, most people would have the sense not to show it so blatantly. In that regard, her open displays of hostility are almost endearing in their naiveté.

After all, I am indeed a nobody here, and I don’t particularly care about the role of “official shrine maiden.” I’d be happy to step down anytime. I’m only wearing these robes as a favor to the head of the Church in Clarus, who saved me from the brink of death ten months ago; it’s not as if this is what I wanted in the first place.

Just as I was thinking this, Eliza’s patience seemed to wear thin. She had ordered the coachman to stop despite the road being clear, her brow twitching in irritation.

“Say something, won’t you, Adelheid?”
“…”
“Do you even hear me, Adelheid?!”

After she’d repeated it several times, I finally realized she was talking to me.

“Oh, right. I go by ‘Adelheid’ now, don’t I? I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t recognize the name and just tuned it out.”

With my completely genuine explanation, Eliza’s temper flared past its breaking point.

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