Time passed, and by the time the dim moonlight settled over the mansion—
"Puh-hah…"
Hestia, who had lost count of how many glasses of wine she had already emptied, downed another in one gulp. With her face flushed red, she placed the empty glass on the table and let out a breath.
'Didn't she say she only wanted one glass?'
Watching her with an awkward smile, even I had to admit that her drinking capacity was astonishing.
'Well, considering her background, it makes sense.'
Before she was chosen as the Saintess, she had been strictly controlled by her viscount family, forced into a political engagement for the benefit of her house.
The only relief from that pressure was the stolen sips of liquor that her close maid secretly brought her. Now, for the first time in her life, she was drinking without restraint. It was only natural that she couldn't resist the temptation.
"Hey… g-give me just one more glass…"
"You've already had three bottles of wine. Are you sure you're okay?"
"Ah."
I carefully suggested she stop, concerned for her health, and in that moment, a flicker of realization crossed Hestia's dazed eyes.
"Ah…"
She glanced at the empty dishes and the scattered bottles on the table. Then, as if hit by a wave of shame, she buried her face in her hands.
"What have I done…"
Hearing the guilt dripping from her voice, I approached her with a gentle smile and whispered.
"How was it? Are you satisfied with tonight?"
"…"
"Haha, you don't have to say it. Your face says it all."
She remained silent, but regardless—my plan had worked.
Until now, the Saintess had always been tense, watching my every move cautiously. But tonight, she had finally allowed herself to be honest with her desires.
"D-Don't misunderstand."
Even so, as she finally spoke, there was still a faint trace of resistance in her voice.
"I was just… forced into this by your coercion…"
"But you started enjoying it midway through, didn't you?"
"…Ugh."
I swept my gaze across the chaotic table as I spoke, and Hestia bit her lip, lowering her eyes.
"If you continue cooperating with my plans, I can offer you even greater pleasures."
"W-What could possibly be more… Ah!"
Despite her attempts to resist, my sweet temptation made her lips part unconsciously. Realizing this, she hurriedly covered her mouth with both hands.
It seemed like the perfect time to deliver the final push.
"…Have you ever heard of a 'bomb shot'?"
Although my fragile body in my past life had never allowed me to indulge, I was still well-versed in the drinking culture from media.
"It's a drink where you mix the finest liquors together. When poured, it bubbles and overflows, just like a volcanic eruption."
"H-How crude…!"
"Crude, yes, but imagine it."
For a noble lady who had only just discovered the world of alcohol, this must have sounded like the whisper of the devil himself.
"The moment that exquisite combination of liquors rushes down your throat—just how thrilling would it be?"
"…Hnn."
"Just thinking about it gives you chills, doesn't it?"
As expected, Hestia's face flushed red again at my detailed description.
"Saintess, if you take my hand, I'll personally make it for you as many times as you want."
"..."
"There's no one here you need to please. You're free to enjoy yourself as much as you'd like."
Seeing her reaction, I was certain of my victory.
I reached out my hand, ready to receive her agreement—
"S-Stop with your wicked temptations!"
"Ow."
But just as I thought she had fallen completely, Hestia suddenly let out a shriek and slapped my hand away.
"You think I'll surrender to you so easily?"
"Haha, Saintess, I was never trying to make you surrender…"
"I-I know! You're only using me, and once I'm no longer needed, you'll get rid of me!"
Whether it was the alcohol talking or something else, she clenched her fists and glared at me with fierce determination.
"A-And… I also know that you're going to destroy the world in the future! I know everything!"
She stuttered for a moment, then suddenly slammed the table with her fist, delivering that terrifying prophecy.
"Me? Destroy the world?"
"D-Don't pretend you don't know!"
For a brief moment, I wondered if she was just rambling drunkenly. But the sharpness in her gaze told me she was completely serious.
"That's the first I've heard of it…!"
I scratched my head, pretending to be disappointed.
But it was definitely a misunderstanding.
Because there was no way I would do something so terrifying, right?
'Besides, the current Saintess isn't even capable of prophecy.'
From what I knew, a Saintess could only awaken their ability to foresee the future after meeting the Hero.
Since the original scenario had already been derailed and she had yet to meet him, this so-called prophecy was nothing more than a mistaken assumption.
That meant I had to clear up this misunderstanding before it got any worse.
"Haha. I have no idea where you got that idea, but…"
"Grrr…"
"My goal is to deliver you to the Hero."
Perhaps due to the lingering effects of alcohol, Hestia bared her teeth at me in a feeble growl, but I simply scratched my head and laid out the truth.
"T-The Hero?"
"A Saintess has appeared for the first time in centuries. Doesn't that mean a Hero is bound to appear as well?"
Fortunately, her strong tolerance for alcohol meant she didn't attack me outright. Instead, she blinked a few times and finally began to listen.
"I know where the Hero will show up, and I intend to take you there."
"…"
"That way, you'll become someone no faction dares to touch, and together with the Hero, you'll save the world."
Even so, a flicker of doubt remained in her eyes.
So I decided to push just a little further.
"Besides, Saintess—if I really intended to destroy the world, why would I go through all this trouble?"
"That's…"
"If I wanted to stop the Hero, wouldn't it be easier to just make you disappear right now, before anyone even notices?"
She opened her mouth as if to argue but then fell silent, an unreadable expression crossing her face.
Fear was still dominant, but for the first time, she looked genuinely deep in thought.
"Well, it's frustrating to be falsely accused, but let's assume your prophecy is right."
I stepped closer, lowering my voice to a whisper.
"Then wouldn't it make sense for you to stop me before that happens?"
She closed her eyes, lost in thought for a long moment.
"…I still don't trust you completely."
When she finally spoke, her voice had a weight to it—reminiscent of the noble Saintess from the original story, rather than the timid viscount's daughter.
"But…"
I tensed slightly at her pause, but unlike Meredia, Hestia was much more pliable.
"I don't really have a choice, do I?"
Given her circumstances, it wasn't like she had any other viable options.
"But I have one condition."
To my surprise, she extended her hand toward me.
"Swear on this hand that you're telling the truth."
"Haha…"
Maybe the alcohol had given her courage.
Because for the first time, she was starting to show the dignity of a true Saintess.
"Of course."
Without hesitation, I clasped her hand, choosing to overlook the fact that she was secretly attempting to bind our souls in an oath.
"At last, the contract is sealed."
I had no intention of breaking my own words anyway, and the Saintess likely needed such reassurance to follow my plan with peace of mind.
As expected of a Saintess—she had probably never been formally trained in this, yet she was already capable of applying soul-binding techniques so adeptly.
"A-And…"
Just as I was about to hum in satisfaction, pleased that I had finally drawn the Saintess into my plans—
"…T-That needs to be properly prepared as well."
"Hm?"
The Saintess, still holding my hand, whispered in a barely audible voice—
"B-Bomb shots… that too…"
Surely, she hadn't agreed just because of the bomb shots, right?
"I-I'm only making sure you keep your word…!"
"…Hah."
Yeah. I'd like to believe that too.
***
That night, as Whitney and the Saintess reached an unspoken truce in their long battle of wits—
The sun had long set, and the mansion was shrouded in the dim moonlight.
Creak—
After being shut tight for so long, the office door finally groaned open.
"Haaahm… Ah."
Cecil, who had been squatting on the lower steps of the staircase all day without giving up, startled awake from her drowsy state at the sound.
"How was your time with the Master?"
"Wasn't it better than you expected?"
The voice of Runiel, who had been standing guard outside the office, warmly addressing Hestia, reached Cecil's ears.
Step, step…
But Hestia didn't respond. She merely pressed her lips together and descended the stairs in an unsteady gait.
Cecil's gaze narrowed as she observed her carefully.
'I can't just stand by and ignore this.'
Even if she had resolved to conduct her investigation in secret, her strong sense of justice wouldn't allow her to turn a blind eye to someone who had just suffered something terrible.
"H-Hey."
"Eek!?"
"Shh. It's okay. I'm on your side."
Cecil emerged in front of Hestia, who was walking in a daze down the stairs, pressing a finger to her lips to signal silence.
"…A-Are you that man's sister?"
"Ah."
Blood ties couldn't be hidden, it seemed. Though she didn't have Whitney's trademark narrow eyes, her dark hair and vaguely similar features made Hestia naturally wary.
"I-I am his sister, but I'm nothing like that bastard."
"..."
"R-Really! I just want to help you!"
Cecil felt a pang of frustration but quickly shook it off and lowered her voice again.
"I know the truth—you're the missing Saintess. And I know that bastard kidnapped you."
Hestia's eyes widened in shock.
"So please, tell me—what kind of torment have you suffered?"
"Uh…"
"Your testimony is important. If you tell me, I'll report everything to the Church right away!"
As Cecil pleaded earnestly, Hestia bit her lip nervously.
"I… I suppose… you could say I was subjected to something disgraceful in there."
"I knew it…!"
Cecil clenched her fists in anger, as though she had been the one wronged.
"B-But…"
Then, something strange happened—Hestia's gaze wavered, and—
"…I-I'm fine."
She suddenly uttered an unexpected statement.
"T-There's no need to report anything. Wouldn't that just make things worse?"
"What?"
"I-If you really want to help me… just wait for the right time."
Cecil blinked in bewilderment as Hestia turned her head to the side and continued in a much smaller voice.
"I have a plan. A hidden trump card… So…"
"But you never know when something could happen again! If you seek the Church's protection now—"
Unable to bear the strangeness of her words, Cecil interjected.
"…Listen."
"Yes?"
"I said, I'm fine."
Hestia's firm response left Cecil momentarily speechless.
"E-Even if I, as a Saintess, experienced something inappropriate… it's just another trial to overcome."
To Cecil, her words sounded completely incomprehensible.
"Overcoming such hardships is what makes a true Saintess, isn't it?"
Yet the look on Hestia's face was filled with something entirely unbefitting of a devout and righteous Saintess—
A faint thrill of guilt and forbidden excitement.
"S-Saintess, don't tell me—"
"A-And… to be completely honest, I'm still uncertain myself."
Seeing Cecil's expression darken, Hestia hurriedly tried to justify herself.
"T-That man… he might actually be kind."
"…You can't be serious."
"I mean, he did save me from the black mages. And considering how many enemies I have, this place is oddly safe…"
To Cecil, it sounded like Hestia had already fallen, corrupted beyond hope.
But Hestia's reasoning wasn't merely swayed by Whitney's and Cecil's suspicions—nor was it just about the bomb shots.
'Besides, his soul… seemed oddly pure.'
She had grabbed his hand to secretly carve his vow into his soul, yet when she did—she sensed no darkness.
'And most importantly… he accepted my vow of his own will.'
Through sheer instinct, she had realized something—no matter how skilled she was, she could never carve an oath into someone's soul without their consent.
'Maybe… if I guide him properly… that future won't come to pass.'
Such thoughts, coupled with her inherently benevolent and selfless nature, had shaken her conviction ever so slightly.
"But none of that excuses what happened in that office!"
"W-Well… to be honest, even in the office just now…"
"…What?"
"H-He was actually kind to me…"
Of course, that didn't mean—
"T-To be completely honest, I actually enjoyed it—"
"Saintess!"
Perhaps Hestia's honesty stemmed from her pure nature.
But the guilt and excitement in her voice only convinced Cecil that she was on the verge of falling into depravity.
"You can't let that bastard seduce you!"
"Ugh?"
"You're seriously falling for a bad guy just because he was a little nice?!"
"I—"
"This can't go on. Come with me, right now—"
Determined to protect the Saintess from her brother's clutches, Cecil grabbed Hestia's wrist, ready to pull her away.
"Who's there?"
"Ah."
But in her urgency, she had raised her voice too much—causing Runiel, who had been standing guard, to start descending the stairs.
"…"
Realizing that if she was caught talking to the Saintess, all her efforts would be wasted, Cecil cast one last, desperate glance at Hestia before silently slipping away.
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"You're still here?"
"A-Ah, yes."
"Well, if you have time to spare, why don't you take a walk? Eating too much rich food without any exercise isn't good for you."
"O-Okay…"
Left alone, Hestia chose to keep Cecil's presence a secret out of consideration.
She continued down the stairs but then—
"…Hmm."
She suddenly stopped, lifting the hand that had grasped Whitney's earlier.
"What was that feeling…?"
A faint, gray hue flickered through her eyes.