Irene Decided to Die - Chapter 39
The physician unwrapped the bandages with a tense expression.
He had been careful to treat Irene in hopes of restoring her before the Saint’s appointment ceremony, but the very person in question seemed indifferent.
And for good reason: through Irene’s eyes, all this seemed an attempt to conceal the wrongs they had committed in the past.
“Feels odd without the bandages.”
“Don’t be bothered by it.”
“How can I not feel bothered?”
Irene waved her hand, the bandages half-unraveled. The wounds had not yet fully healed. Pink scars still marked her pale fingertips.
Yet, they had removed the bandages, perhaps fearing that any remaining wraps would look out of place on the saint. That was somewhat amusing to her.
“The scars are still there.”
“What can we do if you dislike the bandages?”
Burt sighed softly as he shrugged.
“Though if you wish, we can wrap your bandages before you go out.”
At that, Irene stared intently at Burt.
Initially, she thought him to be quite gruff. Moreover, his expressions were generally unchanging, making it difficult to read his emotions.
But as time passed with Burt, she felt she was beginning to understand him a bit more.
Like the night he offered her milk because she couldn’t sleep, she realized he was more good-natured towards her than she thought.
And gradually, he began to express his opinions more clearly.
‘He said I could go out with them on if I wanted?’
Irene smiled faintly.
‘Even though he wants the bandages removed quickly.’
For some reason, Burt wanted Irene to remove the bandages as soon as possible.
The priests were looking for her, too, but the feeling was a bit different this time.
It seemed they wanted her to genuinely recover, rather than just appear unharmed.
Indeed, if the saintess under his care still bore deep wounds, that would be a problem.
Someone might bring up the issue of responsibility and try to pull Burt down by any means necessary. But he was not one to be easily dragged down.
The preparations for the appointment ceremony were complete, and the attire was ready.
The original attire, terribly white and innocent-looking, was refused.
It was obviously tailored for Ramiel; there was no need to try it on. They differed in height; Irene was taller, and Ramiel was shorter.
Thus, she requested a new dress.
She asked for it to incorporate black, the same color as her hair, and to prepare red jewels.
“Please make the jewels in the decorations red.”
“R-Red?”
The priest wore a troubled expression as he tried to dissuade Irene.
“Red is an ominous color. It shouldn’t be included in the attire for the appointment ceremony.”
Even the noble ladies in society avoided wearing fully red garments.
But Irene was adamant about this particular choice.
“Look at me. What color are my eyes?”
“…Red.”
“Then you know what I am going to say next.”
“Wouldn’t pink, pink jewels work?”
“No. It has to be red. Isn’t that the color of the saintess’s eyes, as acknowledged by the goddess?”
At this, the pleading priests turned pale.
Some tried to dissuade her with urgency, but Irene casually dismissed them. Only then could she leave the fitting room.
Her body, which had been so pained that she could only crawl, was now able to stand and walk.
‘Could this also be some miracle of the goddess?’
Ordinarily, someone injured to such an extent might have had to spend a long period, perhaps even a lifetime, confined to bed. So, it must indeed be a miracle of the goddess.
Though it was quite an unwelcoming miracle, Irene paused in the hallway and looked out the window.
The sky was still drearily gray. The clouds covering the sky looked ominous, even though it wasn’t raining.
The Saint’s appointment ceremony was imminent. Time was swiftly passing, yet she still didn’t know how to perform miracles. Irene resumed her steps.
‘What will change this time?’
That was something even Irene couldn’t predict. Suddenly, a chill wind blew from somewhere.
* * *
It was the day of the Saint’s appointment ceremony.
“Ramiel, are you really okay with this?”
Ramiel’s father fidgeted, closely examining the complexion of his only daughter.
He was not the only one worried. Standing beside him, Ramiel’s mother also bore a face full of concern.
They feared their daughter, who had been devastated of not becoming the saint, might make a dire choice.
That’s why they had planned to skip the invitation to the Saint’s appointment ceremony. Attending could only dredge up Ramiel’s wounds.
They would face criticism in social circles, but their love for Ramiel outweighed all else.
“It’s okay.”
Ramiel gazed at her reflection in the carriage window. Her face, much paler and devoid of life compared to before, looked somber, gloomy. It was an unfamiliar expression.
‘Did I really have this expression all this time?’
Her slender fingers gently touched her cheek.
Since that day, she had forsaken food and drink, dedicating herself entirely to prayer, yet the goddess gave no response.
But today, by going to the place closest to the goddess and praying once more, things might change.
That was why Ramiel, despite her parents’ concern, had resolved to visit the temple. And if she truly wasn’t the saint,
‘I need to confirm if Irene really is the saint.’
