At the far end of the infirmary, Clara stood beside a wounded knight. She didn’t need to heal him anymore, but she was checking up on him all the same. This was the third round of check-ups she had done.

Realistically, she should be preparing to leave by now. Her request was fulfilled: heal the injured, report to the Duke, then return to the academy. There were still plenty of work waiting for her back at the Royal Knights Academy. Assignments. Drills. Not to mention the upcoming council election…

Still… any excuse to get away for a day wasn’t unwelcome.

She glanced around the room. She hadn’t expected this many wounded in a single noble estate. And seeing that young noble girl again—Carine, was it?—from the castle incident made her wonder if she attracts trouble.

She let out a heavy sigh, catching the attention of a nearby nurse.

“Lady Clara? Is something wrong?” she asked.

Clara stiffened up, turning to her, shaking her hands. “N-No, it’s nothing at all.”

The nurse stared at her for a while before cracking a gentle smile. “Lady Clara, if you’re worried about the wounded, then there’s no need. We will take things from here; you already did your best in easing their pain.”

How thoughtful. Clara thought. Even though you’re working harder than me.

The nurses and doctors she saw tending to the two noble ladies wore standard issue Royal Medical Academy uniforms. In contrast, the ones helping in the infirmary wore modest and simple uniforms. They were definitely from a local common public infirmary.

Offloaded with taking care of the more than a dozen patients all on their own…

Although there was no doubt that most of the knights, maids, and butlers here were still of aristocratic rank, albeit lower in title or even those far from the heir seat, they only sent their best to take care of that young lady and her mother.

If Clara hadn’t come, she couldn’t imagine the workload the infirmary staff here had to deal with.

Nobility is… harsh.

Clara’s eyes flicked towards one of the many beds in this room. A young man sleeps on it, significantly younger than the men in this room, roughly the same age as her. It piqued her curiosity.

When she made her first round of healing, she had spoken to one of the maids, a lady with faded pink hair. When Clara asked her about the young man, the maid told her everything she knew about the boy named Feyt.

He was a commoner, just like her, who earned the right to attend this house’s swordsmanship school, who aimed to be strong for his friends and family.

When she heard the maid talk, she noticed just how warm her tone was.

This Feyt… could he be the same as me? She wondered.

Her curiosity at her peak, she decided the best option was to ask him directly.

Back at the present, her eyes were still locked to the still bed. She watched in silence, wondering if her healing was enough. Then, her eyes widened when he began to stir awake. She turned back to the nurse.

“Thank you, but I’ll do one more round, just in case I missed anyone.”

“Well, if you insist.”

Clara dipped her head and turned. She went back to check the staff here one by one, eyes constantly drifting to the young man, who was talking with the woman lying on the bed beside his.

When she finally got close to him, she raised her voice.

“Oh, you’re finally awake!”

—

The Saint approached me with a sense of worry plastered on her face. “Uhmm… Are you alright? Is anything hurting?” Her voice was gentle and soft as she asked me that question.

It took me a while to process that she was talking to me. I straightened my body and cleared my throat before answering.

“N-No, nothing’s hurting. Weirdly so, even.” I rolled my right shoulder again to check, just in case. Yeah, nothing was hurting.

“That’s great!” The Saint, or rather, Lady Clara, clasped her hand and flashed a bright smile. “You’re quite fortunate. It would seem your body was a little bit more resilient than the rest. My healing magic worked smoothly when I tended to you.”

“R-Really?”

I found that to be weird. Mother definitely didn’t hold back when handling all the knights and Leila. You could argue she was weakened by the paralytic when I faced her, but still, her strikes carried the same—No, more weight as they did during that spar. Not to mention, I had to fight that bastard as well. He lifted and choked me for God’s sake.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

I doubted Feyt’s body could just wake up and walk away after that. Carine’s certainly didn’t.

But still… should I even question this? Shouldn’t I be more grateful?

I shook my head. No, keeping questions unanswered was what led me to this situation in the first place. It might sound like I was paranoid or distrustful of her, but I really needed to know.

“I’m sorry, uhmm, Lady Clara?” My voice trailed off at the end, unsure of how I should address her.

“Just Clara is fine!” she said, her voice slightly energetic. It was quite the contrast from when she talked with me, Carine, back at the castle’s infirmary

Not sure if I should even call her just by her name, though. She was the Saint in everything but officially.

“I’m sorry if this is direct, but… I doubt my body could recover this fast,” I said, clutching my chest where Mother had hit the hardest. “Is there something wrong with my body? Perhaps my pain receptors are broken? Or is there something else?”

She paused, eyes blinking blankly.

“Maybe it’s just… some people respond better to healing than others,” she said, eyes looking straight at me with a sincere confusion.

But her words sounded like there was something more behind it. But the more I put my thoughts behind it, the more I found that there really wasn’t any reasonable reason other than that.

I placed a hand on my bare chest, wondering if Feyt’s body was really special in some way or not.

“Uhmm, if I may?” Clara asked, leaning forward. “May I ask for your name?”

I blinked, my thought process still stuck. I shook my head to refocus, giving her an answer.

“I-I’m sorry. It’s Feyt. I’m a student at the Sareid house. It’s nice to meet you,” I said, instinctively reaching forward with an open palm.

Wait, can I shake hands with a Saint that casually?

Before I could retract my arm, I was met with a firm yet gentle grip from Clara’s hands.

“Feyt, is it? Do you have no family name?” she said, hands still grasped softly around mine.

“Ah, yes. Just Feyt,” I said reluctantly, letting my eyes drift aside.

I expected her to respond with a soft “Oh, is that so?” before leaving, or something similar to that. What I saw instead was the direct opposite of that. Her eyes brightened up, and I could tell from her voice that she was… ecstatic?

“So you’re a commoner, too? That’s great!”

Too?

I learned then that my suspicion about the Saint being a commoner was spot on. I didn’t expect her to be enthusiastic about meeting a fellow commoner, though.

She finally let go of my hand and stepped back. Her smile seemed as sincere as ever.

“Tell me, Feyt. Are you going to attend the Royal Knights Academy?”

“A knight?”

She nodded her head. “Yes, since you’re training here after all.”

To be a knight…

I hadn’t thought that far, to be honest. It crossed my mind once, but I never delved much into it. I trained here mostly to better myselves so that I could protect not just the both of me, but everyone I cared about.

I was definitely going to attend the Royal Knight Academy as Carine, but what about Feyt?

I could fight in harmony with myselves yesterday, something I trained for a while. But I wouldn’t say that I mastered it. I could even say that the only reason I could pull it off so smoothly yesterday was because I had gone all out, and adrenaline was pumping through both bodies.

If Feyt didn’t attend the academy and Carine did, both of us would be separated for a prolonged period of time. With what I just experienced yesterday, I wasn’t sure if I was comfortable enough to let that happen yet.

But how do I even go about attending as Feyt? As a commoner with no magic-related Talents that I know of, there was next to zero percent chance that I would be accepted.

With not much of a clear answer, I could only say…

“I’m not sure.”

She tilted her head at that, her smile still ever present and not faltering once. Her voice lowered just slightly as she took a step closer.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t sure either.” She placed a hand on her chest. “To be honest, when I first attended the Royal Knights Academy, I wasn’t sure if people like us would even belong. And I’m sure you’re thinking the same.”

“Well…”

Kind of?

Before I could say my thoughts, Clara continued. “But, I learned that sometimes, you shouldn’t take things lying down. There might be cruel, heartless people out there, but that doesn’t mean you should hesitate to give it your best!”

She stepped forward again, clasping my hand softly as she looked me in the eyes. “So please, don’t hesitate to take the chance to improve yourself. If you’re worried you might be alone there, I’ll be there for you! Although… I’ll be a year above you. But I’ll still be there!”

I didn’t say anything. I was still processing everything from earlier. I hadn’t expected her to open up like this, and it caught me off guard. Her words sounded warm, bright, and almost commanding with its encouragement.

“People like us should stick together,” she continued. “The world is cruel to us; that’s all the more reason we should support each other where we can. And if you decide to join the academy, I’ll do my best to help you with anything.”

Her eyes bore into mine, I instinctively pulled my head back, though my hand was still locked inside her grasp.

I looked away, worried. I didn’t know how to respond to this kind of encouragement, but more importantly, how she misunderstood my thoughts.

I was already interested in joining, especially since I needed to be with myselves a lot to properly train. I was just not sure how to properly apply yet.

“I… uh… I’ll think about it,” I said quietly.

Her eyes light up. She nodded, her smile and eyes bright. “Great! I’ll be waiting for the good news!”

She finally let go of my hand and took a small step back, her arms folding behind her, swaying gently. “Let me know when you decide to apply, I’ll put in a good word for you, if I can at least.” She chuckled lightly.

With that, she gave a polite nod. “Sadly, I… have to leave for now. But I’m sure we’ll meet again soon, Feyt.”

“A-Ah, yes. Safe travels.”

I watched her go in silence. As I watch her back disappear beyond the wooden doorways, I pondered about her for a moment.

She was kind, optimistic, and unwavering with her smile.

She encourages others with warm words and strong conviction.

Also, a commoner blessed with light magic with the title of the Saint.

Putting it all together, one thing comes to mind.

She’s a total otome game protagonist.

I leaned back into my bed again, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

What a weird turn this day had taken. I couldn’t even manage to push any of my questions in, besides the first one.

But, I figured it was alright.

I saw a new side to the Saint, a contrast to her timid self, when I talked to her as Carine.

I gained a new connection inside the academy who could help me get in.

And, I gained a new friend…

Can I call her a friend, though?

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep