Don't Be Holy! - Chapter 11
As she remained silent with an exceedingly gloomy expression, blinking her eyes without a word, he glanced around briefly before continuing.
Her face looked as if she simply couldn’t accept the idea of being the grandson of such a shabby household.
“Alf told me everything. He said there was a couple—your grandmother’s son and daughter-in-law—who went to the capital for business. He also mentioned how your grandmother would occasionally boast about a grandson who looked just like me.”
Well, of course, she did.
Though she had neither a grandson nor a son, the old woman often said things like that. ‘My grandson, you know, he’s got a face so stunning that women in the capital line up for him. He’s so good-natured and diligent that he already helps with his father’s business. So polite, with a heart as pure as silk—he loves helping people so much he even volunteers at the orphanage.’
The old woman had to visit the capital once a year for certain errands, and the idea of a grandson had come about as a plausible excuse. From there, the tale had snowballed into something grander.
And as is the nature of lies, the things the old woman had said were absurdly exaggerated. It was pure coincidence that the man before her looked like he’d stepped straight out of her fanciful stories.
Eir felt so suffocated by the entire situation that she clutched her chest, about to lose her mind. Then she realized she was still holding a damp towel and threw it aside in frustration.
“And you are…….”
Rubel paused, his gaze sweeping over her from head to toe.
A dress typical of rural maidens. Dirty hands. The only redeeming feature was her shimmering, golden wheat-colored hair, which might have been lovely if it weren’t tangled with twigs and leaves.
He resumed speaking, his tone slightly dull.
“You are said to be her apprentice. A daughter of a deceased friend whom her son and daughter-in-law brought to her, and you lived with her almost like a granddaughter. Alf also mentioned that he thought he’d inherit everything, but when I appeared, he was so jealous he fainted on the spot.”
“Hah.”
Eir, already overwhelmed by the divine punishment she had received, felt her head might burst from the sheer absurdity of his words. She raised a weak hand to her temple.
Alf couldn’t possibly have said such things to accuse her.
She and Alf had always gotten along quite well. He was kind enough to carry an unconscious man down from the mountains at her request without hesitation. There was no way he would suddenly start accusing her of greed over an inheritance.
He must have been shocked and flustered when she suddenly collapsed. Trying to lighten the mood, he likely made a few casual remarks.
Maybe he even joked about fainting from jealousy.
But the rigid Rubel must have taken those words at face value. Eir wouldn’t have been surprised if Rubel declared right then and there, ‘Anyone who covets what isn’t theirs will be punished!’ and struck her forehead with his palm.
However, when she lowered her hand and looked at Rubel, he simply stared down at her with an unreadable expression.
“…….”
A peculiar silence settled between them.
The magic of the old woman had a peculiar trait, it was strongly influenced by the preconceptions of those who encountered it for the first time.
In Eir’s case, the entire narrative had started when a villager, upon seeing her rummaging through the old woman’s herb collection out of curiosity, exclaimed, ‘Ah, so you’re her apprentice!’
From then on, everyone began calling Eir the old woman’s apprentice.
Eir had protested, ‘No, I’m not trying to learn anything at this point in my life!’ only to be smacked on the back by the old woman, who sternly replied, ‘You’ve got to earn your keep somehow. Besides, undoing those words now would be a royal pain. Just live with it.’
Even the old woman herself, who wielded the magic, had admitted it would be ‘very’ troublesome to reverse those words. Now that the old woman was gone, there was no way for Eir to clear up the misunderstanding.
Soon enough, the villagers would start calling the man the old woman’s grandson. And even if Eir denied it, would the man believe her over the collective voice of the villagers?
‘Damn it.’
Eir furrowed her brows and racked her brain, trying to figure out what the man had done to trigger that curse.
Come to think of it, she distinctly remembered the old woman chanting a spell back then. Without knowing the incantation, how could merely touching the stone have activated the curse?
At that moment, a rough hand grabbed hers.
It was a calloused hand, hardened from wielding a sword.
When she looked up, Rubel Shinote was gazing at her with a seriousness that startled her.
