〈 Episode 3 〉 Yandere Youngae 3

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Early in the morning, I and the butler in the carriage were on our way to church without saying a word.

"Come on!"

The coachman in the coachman's seat jerked the reins eagerly, and the horses trotted forward.

"Did you sleep well the night you went?"

"Yes, yes!"

I thought of the scented candles the butler had lit for me yesterday, and secretly wondered if he was feeling smug. Someone who likes to brag about what he's done. I wondered if the butler was like that, and opened my mouth.

"Thanks to you, I was able to sleep well despite being sick."

"...I see."

The butler gave her a puzzled look, but she figured he was the kind of person who took compliments awkwardly.

"Please dismount."

Some time passed, and I could feel the coachman slowing the horses down. When the squeak of the wheels became less frequent, and then disappeared altogether, he hastily grabbed the carriage door handle and opened the door, not thinking it was proper for the butler, who was a rank above him, to open the door.

"You needn't do that, sir, when your arm is not so strong."

"Oh, no, of course I don't..."

"You are like a lady's property, and I am merely the earl's chamberlain, and if a lady's property with a wounded arm is overstretched and makes the wound worse, that is only my responsibility, so I suggest that you act like a patient and get some help around you."

The butler's words were soft, but the first word, private property, rang in my ears, making him sound more like something...other than a servant.

"Ah, the caretaker of Count Deckard's estate."

A welcoming church greeting with open arms. An older woman, dressed as a Sister, and a butler, with one hand behind his back as a sign of politeness, chatted animatedly.

"What brings you here today..."

"We have a patient in the family."

"Oh, no..."

The butler looked at me for a moment, then smiled quietly.

"Please come in, you are most welcome at St. Tria's."

"Thank you."

I inclined my head hastily and followed him inside.

"You can get your treatment over there."

It wasn't even the weekend, but there were quite a few people inside, worshipping. It's not like anyone's giving a lecture, and I find it odd to see people who appear to be regular believers quietly bowing their heads and praying to themselves.

"Now, the patient, please follow me."

Most of the churches double as clinics or orphanages, where ordinary Sisters who can't handle the power of the divine are treated, and over time, those who have achieved greatness are said to receive the power of the divine to heal others.

"This way."

I'm led deeper into the center, not to the usual healing center where many injured people go. It's a place where miraculous powers are performed by priests who have been granted the power of the gods by the higher-ups. As I enter the room with the wooden plaque labeled Reliever, one of the sisters looks at me in surprise.

"Huh? Are you a patient?"

"Yes...yes, I am, but..."

"Please sit this way. Mr. Shindo."

I think he was surprised that someone dressed as a servant would come into a treatment room called the Reliever. Usually, it's where nobles, high-ranking officials, or knights in expensive clothes come to be healed, not people like me, who pay a hefty fee to be treated for a simple fracture.

"What's your name?"

"What?"

"I need to fill out the guest book."

"Uh...Tir. No last name."

Orphaned in the first place, no last name. Despite being given an unfamiliar job title, Sister quickly puts on her veteran face and writes down his name.

"Are you from the Earldom of Deckard?"

"Yes, yes...how could I..."

"Ah! That's not..."

How could he know I was Earl Deckard when I was dressed in a plain black servant's uniform with no distinguishing features?

"Then would you mind showing me your wound?"

I slowly unwrap my bandages and show him my swollen wrist.

"Hmm...yes. Fortunately, there don't seem to be any broken bones."

A white light pours from her hand, and she runs it around my wrist a few times before opening her mouth, wondering if this is the God-given power she's been hearing about.

"The muscles and ligaments are just freaked out, and the bones are neatly out of alignment...enough to be left alone."

I wonder how to get the bones to move neatly out of alignment.

"Well..."

"Give me your wrist."

Slowly, she places her hand on my wrist. Slowly, I feel a white light emanating from her hand, wrapping around my wrist and entering it.

'Changgrang!!!!'

At that moment, the sound of breaking came from outside. It wasn't the sound of an ordinary glass breaking, but the sound of something huge falling and shattering.

"What...happened?"

A shivering Sister comes inside and whispers to the healer in front of her.

"Ah..."

Her face turns pensive.

"I'm sorry. I'm going to stop treating you for now and get you another priest."

"Yeah, okay?"

I nodded in understanding. A male priest rushed in and said, "You said it was your wrist that was injured, right?" He took her wrist and began to treat it.

"It's done."

With the priest's last words, I was allowed to leave the aid station.

"What happened?"

I ask as the butler approaches. The butler smiles reassuringly at me.

"It's nothing," he says, "it's just a matter of not discussing things properly."

"...What?"

"You're not going to have a problem with this."

The words suddenly reminded me of Noel, and a chill ran down my spine.

"You can't be...

The butler gestured to the older Sister, who came rushing over, more urgent than before.

"Let's go, then, Sister."

"Oh, it won't happen again, I swear."

"Yes. Please."

Hurrying out of the church, they board the carriage.

"..."

"You don't look very well, do you?"

It couldn't be good, could it? The deacon's words and actions, and the sisters' reactions. And the sound of something breaking loudly.

"It's just that something doesn't seem right."

"Hmm, rest assured, what happened today was not our fault."

I wanted to ask what was wrong, but I could only bow my head to his tightly closed mouth as if to say no more. They returned to the Count without another word.

"It's morning for you, my lady, but...I've gone to tend to your wounds, so it won't matter if I'm late. I'm sure you'll understand if I tell her it's late in the morning and we've switched to brunch."

The butler offered me a tray. In this case, I should have reported to the other servants to take the breakfast menu, but I accepted the tray, expecting the butler's predictable response that it was the duty of a full-time servant.

"Oh, no, it's not because of the hand Sister held at church...

'That's impossible, isn't it? My conversation with the maids yesterday should have been obvious to anyone in this household. However, the treatment of Sister in the church would not be a problem if the butler would keep quiet. The butler had been standing in front of me ever since I stepped out of the carriage, so Noel would not be aware of it.

"Tick, tick, tick!

His fist is unusually heavy as he pounds on the door.

"Come in."

Slowly, I carry the tray inside.

"Mr. Noel...I brought you brunch. I've been at church...I'm sorry I didn't bring you breakfast."

"I know, it's okay."

She smiles, still wearing her white see-through slip like it was yesterday.

"Should I say I'm ashamed...

You'd think the subject of a dedicated servant would be disloyal to her master. Carefully, I place the tray on her table, as if she were a machine, just to please her.

"..."

In front of her is a black silk blouson dress she hadn't seen yesterday. From what you know from picking the pockets of young ladies who occasionally go out, it's definitely the kind of dress that could be called...a young lady's active wear. Why, it's hanging on the chair next to the table where you set the tray.

'Ruffles...'

I had been a rogue long enough to recognize that the dress showed signs of use. Until yesterday, her only clothes had been a white lace dress and the light blue see-through slip she was wearing now...never once had she worn a black blouson dress.

"Would you like to join us again?"

"...Yes."

I couldn't refuse. On the tray was milk and coffee, an expensive import from abroad, along with bacon and egg tarts and some fruit.

"Is your wrist healed?"

"Yes, yes, it's healed!"

"The church must have treated you well."

Smiling, she glanced at her left wrist.

"Sit down."

She offers me the chair next to her. I quickly sit down and look up at her.

"For future treatments, you can call the church and a priest will come out."

"What?"

"You don't have to go to church."

I wondered if she was upset that I'd given her a late brunch instead of breakfast, but her face was clear and expressionless.

"Yeah..."

"Are you relieved?"

"What?"

"How were your sisters?"

I felt my heart drop with a thud. Yesterday, I'd gotten a bone-chilling reminder of what happens when you're around women for even a moment. Not a joke or a metaphor, but a real bone-chilling sensation. The bones in my left hand ached as I spoke.

"..."

"Don't worry, this is a no-count."

She knew, and the black blouson dress draped before her eyes. Had she followed? She didn't know why, but what if she had followed her?

"Oh, no," she thought, "that would be a clue.

She might have tried on the blouson dress a few times beforehand, leaving traces of use. And she might be testing me by draping it over the chair in front of me.

"How do I answer?

I feel like I'm in the middle of a sophisticated mind game. I'm reminded of my late, great-grandfather's speech about the importance of having a poker face when gambling.

'Calm down. Calm down...'

I watch her eyes, and realize that no-count could mean forgiveness, but I don't know what the consequences of taking her words at face value would be...

"I... I was treated by a priest at the church."

"Huh?"

"Nothing...happened with the sisters."

"You're lying."

Her eyes are on me. The same creepy eyes I saw yesterday. Her violet jewel eyes stiffened, as if they would swallow me whole, like a giant black snake strangling me, and her silken hair seemed to entangle me like Arachne's webs.

"He, he..."

"I don't mind other people's lies."

Slowly, she grabs my left arm.

"But I can't forgive you for the lies you tell me..."

It snaps, breaks. I thought the pain was coming. I squeeze my eyes shut in remorse.

"I'm sorry!!!"

I opened my eyes again, only to find her hand on my wrist, but nothing had happened.

"Do you like bacon?"

The fork in her hand held a piece of bacon. It was a peaceful late morning. She was holding my wrist with one hand, and I was tasting the bacon with her fork...it was just a sunny, peaceful brunch. I finish my meal and return the tray.

"Hmmm, the lady is going out today, I hope you will accompany her as her servant."

The butler says in your ear.

"...Yes."

"Good."

The butler glances at my wrist and walks away.

.

"Let's go."

Noelle smiles and holds out her hand to me. Her offer of an escort. I hang my head in shame as the many servants and knights look on.

"No, Ms. Noelle. Others are watching."

"What does it matter if my personal servant is escorting me?"

"...Yes."

He takes her raised hand and leads her to the carriage. She's wearing a white, arched tiara gown, not the black blouson dress that showed signs of wear.

"She looks like a bride.

She looks like the kind of bridal gown a noblewoman would wear at a wedding.

"Why are you staring at me?"

"Oh, no, my dear...no, Noel."

The coachman, who had been yapping vigorously earlier, was now driving the horse as if he wasn't even breathing. The latch of the door connecting the coachman's seat to the carriage was fastened and locked, as if he didn't care about the interior at all. I wondered if the difference in status between the butler and Noel was enough to warrant different treatment.

"Is there anywhere you'd like to go?"

"Uh, no."

"Where did you live before?"

"What?"

"Shouldn't we stop by the slum village in the hills where you used to live?"

At that moment, I felt goosebumps all over my body. I felt like a bird caught in a noose...like I couldn't understand why.

"How...how..."

She smiles. Like a goddess, or like a jewel.

"Why?"

The way she giggles, like a mischievous frog, is another work of art...enough to fill me with terror.

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