Chapter – 17
“You… you’re the new saint sent by the gods, correct?”
Oh. Straight to the point.
I turned toward the speaker. She was a young noble lady with pale lemon-blonde hair cascading down her shoulders.
Without realizing it, I admired her.
‘She’s beautiful.’
She wore brightly colored accessories that didn’t even match each other, yet she was still dazzlingly pretty.
“My name is Cordelia Bernadette.”
‘Cordelia?’
I paused at the familiar name.
Cordelia Bernadette. I knew that name. She was…
‘The youngest saint who was summoned fifteen years ago.’
Since no new saint had appeared for fifteen years afterward, she ended up holding the record as the youngest saint for the longest time.
I hid my surprise and put on a smooth smile.
“Saint Cordelia, it’s an honor to meet you. My name is Irene Grace.”
“Nice to meet you, Miss Irene. I heard rumors that you might be the new saint. Is that true?”
It seemed Saint Cordelia really liked asking blunt questions.
I cleared my throat lightly and lowered my eyes as if embarrassed.
“When I came to my senses, I was inside the cathedral. I heard that’s usually how saints are summoned.”
The key point here was modesty.
Because of my engagement to Ian, I was already attracting attention—for better or worse.
At times like this, humility was essential.
“I don’t believe someone as insignificant as myself could truly have been chosen as a saint… However, since the verification process is still ongoing, I can’t say for certain.”
“Is that so?”
Cordelia slowly examined my face.
“Regardless of verification, if you really are a saint, you should already have received your divine power. Don’t you feel anything?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“Hmm. For reference, I can make flowers bloom.”
As she said that, Cordelia briefly closed her eyes and lifted her chin.
Instinctively, I realized this was the perfect timing for a compliment.
“I know. I heard that tea made from those flowers has incredible restorative effects.”
I clasped my hands together and let my eyes sparkle.
“I thought it was an amazing power. It even sounds romantic, like something out of a fairy tale!”
“H-hm. Is that so?”
Looks like I got the timing right.
Cordelia was the only saint close to my age. I had also heard she was the most socially active among the saints.
It would be best to stay on good terms with her if I wanted the next year of my life to go even slightly smoothly.
“I’d really love to try tea made with your divine flowers someday. Of course, that’s just my personal wish.”
“Hm, well… a cup of tea isn’t difficult to arrange…”
At that moment, one of the people surrounding Cordelia like guards subtly signaled to her.
Cordelia seemed to snap back to her senses and cleared her throat.
“Ahem! Anyway… when did you first become acquainted with Lord Ian?”
Another direct question.
The noble ladies were staring at me with eyes full of curiosity and excitement. Some of them clearly looked displeased.
‘Now’s the time.’
Time to tell the love story between Ian and me.
‘The one where I fell onto his bed, thought it was a dream, and we ended up exploring each other.’
Director: Ian
Writer: Ian
Producer: Ian
That love story.
For something that came out of a pure man’s head, it was remarkably lewd and chaotic—but certainly stimulating.
If I told a story like this, those who were satisfied by it wouldn’t bother digging into the real truth behind it.
“It’s a bit long… and rather embarrassing.”
As I said that with flushed cheeks, everyone’s eyes gleamed.
They seemed to instinctively grasp just how scandalous this story was.
“But since you all seem curious, I’ll overcome my embarrassment and tell you.”
I began recounting the fabricated love story between Ian and me, pretending I had no choice.
Concealing some parts, revealing others, and leaving plenty to the imagination.
“Oh my…”
“Good heavens…”
Everyone listened so intently they hardly breathed, occasionally letting out gasps of amazement.
One young lady’s face had turned so red it looked like it might start bleeding.
‘Miss, your breath is hitting me.’
I had just reached the part where Ian finally slipped his hand inside my dress—
“Lady Irene. Are you here?”
A man’s voice suddenly called out to me.
“What?! What is this?”
“Why is there a man here?”
“Ugh! Why now of all times?!”
Everyone turned toward the door in shock.
This was a ladies-only area. A private salon gathering for noblewomen.
The salon door opened, and a middle-aged man appeared beyond it.
Behind him stood a bishop with a troubled expression.
“Count Farrias?”
One of the noble ladies called out his name in surprise.
‘Count Farrias?’
It sounded familiar somehow.
After spotting me, Count Farrias strode straight toward me.
“I apologize for this improper visit, ladies.”
He bowed toward the group before looking at me.
“My apologies, Lady Irene. I received a rather troubling report and felt compelled to come despite the discourtesy.”
“Count Farrias, it’s just speculation…! Surely Lord Ian would never consider taking such a woman as his wife.”
The bishop who followed him tried to stop him awkwardly.
But the count was stubborn.
“This is also for Lady Irene’s sake. Suspicions must be uprooted. I doubt you would want to undergo the saint appointment ceremony while such doubts linger.”
“What exactly are you talking about?”
Unable to hold back, I asked.
The count gave a strange smile.
“There are too many ears here. May I escort you to the terrace?”
“…Very well.”
The count, the bishop, and I moved to the terrace.
Though it wasn’t separated by thick doors, so anyone in the salon could still hear if they listened closely.
‘What is he trying to say?’
I looked straight at Count Farrias.
He spoke with a deliberately regretful expression.
“First, I apologize for saying something so disrespectful. I did not wish to trouble you with such matters, but last night I received an unpleasant report concerning you.”
“An unpleasant report?”
The count sighed heavily.
“Yes. It concerned your past.”
“My past.”
I repeated slowly.
‘Surely he’s not talking about my time with Nine.’
Nine was not an easy organization to investigate.
Its guild members were completely controlled. They had no identities, no names—like ghosts who didn’t exist in the world, carrying out only their missions.
It wasn’t the kind of past that could be uncovered with a few days of investigation.
‘Then there’s only one answer.’
I smiled innocently at the count.
“What exactly did you hear about my past?”
The conclusion was simple.
He was lying.
The “past” he claimed to have learned about was almost certainly a fabricated trap.
“I received a report that you, Lady Irene Grace, are a fugitive wanted in the neighboring country of Pangea.”
He spoke as if embarrassed.
“A fugitive?”
“Yes. A criminal involved in fraud and gambling… Of course, I do not believe you are that person. There is no concrete proof. However—”
His voice grew firm.
“Once suspicion arises, it will spiral out of control unless addressed. I would hate for you to suffer such misunderstandings even before beginning your duties as a saint.”
He continued gravely:
“Therefore, Lady Irene, please tell us what kind of life you lived before being summoned as a saint. If you do, such vulgar misunderstandings can be completely dispelled.”
He said it in a roundabout way, but his intention was obvious.
He wanted me to reveal my past myself.
“Hmm.”
I slowly—very slowly—nodded.
“I see. That is indeed… a reasonable request.”
I could roughly understand his reasoning.
In The Saint Who Doesn’t Know Love, Count Farrias appeared as one of the imperial faction nobles.
That faction was split again into two sides:
Those who sought to keep Ian, the first heir to the throne with exceptional ability and popularity, in check.
And those who supported him, believing he would faithfully serve the emperor as he always had.
The division existed because the current emperor had not clearly stated his position regarding Ian.
In any case, Count Farrias was a leading figure among those wary of Ian.
Naturally, he must have started investigating me the moment he saw the newspaper.
‘And when he couldn’t find anything about my past, he must have found that suspicious.’
He probably concluded that a past hidden this thoroughly must be hiding something dirty.
That expectation likely led him to this tactic.
It wasn’t a bad attempt.
‘Though not a very good one either.’
When I nodded so easily, the count seemed briefly flustered.
But he quickly composed himself and pulled out a document from his coat.
“Please look at this wanted poster.”
There was a portrait drawn on it.
A crude sketch that looked like someone had just stuck facial features onto a potato.
“…The artist’s skills don’t seem very impressive.”
“Ahem. They couldn’t obtain an accurate likeness, which is why the drawing is vague. However, brown hair, green eyes, gender, and age all match yours exactly.”
Haah.
I let out a small sigh.
As I said before, Irene Grace was an extremely common name.
Brown hair and green eyes were also common features.
If someone searched the entire continent, it wouldn’t be impossible to find a criminal with the same name and appearance as me.
Thinking about the count’s subordinates who must have worked all night to find such a criminal almost brought tears to my eyes.
