Chapter 39: First Name

Thump. Renee's heart sank. She stopped walking, her legs feeling like lead. A wave of icy coldness washed over her mind.

"I-I see…" she said, her voice small. Her shoulders slumped. She knew she should pretend to be fine, that she was just joking, but she couldn't.

Seeing her sudden sadness, Vera panicked. He realized he was the cause and cursed himself. He quickly tried to explain.

"What I meant was… I'm not worthy of that honor. I thought it would be shameful for me to do such a thing," he said, offering an uncharacteristically long excuse. He quickly realized it wasn't a real answer and bit his lip.

"… I apologize."

"No, I asked too thoughtlessly."

"That's not true. You can ask anything of me, Saint."

Renee bristled at his words. 'If I can ask anything, why are you refusing this?' A flash of anger crossed her face. For a moment, the man she always respected seemed hateful. Her pride was deeply wounded.

As her anger began to fade, she spoke again, her voice sharp. "Then just call me by my name."

---

Vera flinched at her expression. She had turned to face him, her head tilted up. It was a look he had never seen before—her brows furrowed, her lips pursed. She was looking at the sky, trying to gauge his height, but he knew she was staring right at him.

"Call me by my name," she repeated.

Vera was at a loss. He didn't know what to do, so he simply apologized again.

"… I apologize."

"Are you doing something you need to apologize for?"

"… I apologize."

"You don't need to be sorry for anything."

Vera trembled. He had never seen her so commanding, and he couldn't find the words to respond. As he stood there, speechless, Renee spoke again.

"Fine. If you're so burdened, I'll do it first. And after I do, you'll have to do it too. Do you understand?"

"That…"

"Are you going to apologize again?"

Vera's eyes widened in fear. He felt her grip on his hand tighten. He bowed his head and said, "… I will obey."

"Good. Then I will. Ve…"

Renee froze. This time, it was her turn to be speechless. Her face flushed red as she realized what she was about to say. Her heart pounded wildly. She had been so caught up in her anger that she made a ridiculous demand. She was forcing Vera to do something, when he would never go against her wishes.

Guilt pricked at her conscience. She was being selfish, pushing him because of her own desires. At the same time, her heart fluttered at the thought of finally saying his name.

"Ve-Ve-Ve…"

She closed her eyes, wishing she could turn back time. She would give up everything just to go back five minutes. 'Please, let me go back!'

Of course, nothing changed.

Frustration welled up inside her. Then, a new thought, a kind of self-justification, took hold. 'I have to do it now!'

She would never get another chance. She might have caused this situation, but if she didn't take advantage of it, that stubborn man would never call her by her name. And that would only make her more anxious.

It was just two syllables. "Ve-ra." How hard could it be?

"Ve…"

It was impossibly hard. Her face was on fire, and her chest ached from her pounding heart. The simple two-syllable name was too embarrassing to say.

Her grip on Vera's hand tightened. She worried about how she must look.

After a long hesitation, she took a deep breath to calm herself.

"Saint, if you're troubled, you don't have to…"

"Be quiet."

"… Yes."

She gave him a stern look. 'Why are you interrupting me when I'm trying to concentrate?'

She took a few more deep breaths, feeling her heart settle a little. She extended her hand, still holding her cane, toward Vera. "Give me your hand."

"… Yes."

She heard the tap of her cane as it fell to the ground. Then she felt Vera take her hand. She was now holding both of his hands.

She couldn't back down now. She had to speak. It was an illogical argument, but that didn't matter to her anymore. She swallowed hard and parted her lips.

"… Vera."

---

Vera had never liked his name. It was given to him by the leader of the beggars, a brand name of cheap rum. It was a name that marked him as a boy from the slums, a sinner who had committed countless crimes. He thought he would always hate it.

But at this moment, a strange sense of fulfillment washed over him.

"… Vera."

The name, coming from Renee’s lips, sounded completely new. The 'Ve' lingered for a moment, followed by a soft 'ra.' When the two sounds joined together in her clear voice, it took on a different meaning.

It felt as though his name was being washed clean, a kind of salvation. He just stared at her, stunned. A halo seemed to shine around her.

He felt this way because he knew how noble Renee was. He believed every word she spoke had a natural grace and truth. So even a name as dirty as his sounded pure when she said it.

He took a deep breath, fighting to control his expression as the sudden light and magnanimity washed over him. He knew Renee couldn't see, but he did it anyway.

"Now, Sir Knight… no, Vera. You too."

Renee’s face was bright red as she filled his vision.

"And you have to leave off the 'Saint.' Because I did… so just the name."

She lowered her head.

Vera simply said, "Yes." The grip on his hands tightened.

He couldn't see anything but her face. She was so immature, so unlike the Saint he had known in his past life. She seemed like a child. Yet, in moments like this, she filled him with a renewed faith. The faith that even he could find hope.

Unknowingly, he had begun to believe that if he followed her, he could truly live. She was a person so noble that he believed if he followed her, he might become half as noble himself.

'To do that…'

He had to protect her. So her light could shine on the world without ever being touched by filth and evil.

With a new sense of purpose, feeling the soft warmth of her hands, he rolled the name around in his mouth and said the name he now swore to protect.

"… Renee."

---

Late that night, Renee was curled up in her bed, smiling. She couldn’t stop thinking about what happened.

'—Renee.'

His voice kept replaying in her ears.

"Hiik!"

She kicked the blanket and twisted her body. Her heart was racing, a hot flush spreading over her. The corners of her mouth wouldn't stop curling into a delighted smile.

She finally relaxed, curling up again, and fell into thought. Admitting her feelings to herself made her feel at ease. She was no longer embarrassed to call her feelings for Vera 'love.'

The frustration was still there. The palpitations were even worse. Her old daydreams had become full-blown fantasies. But she didn't mind. It all fueled her joy.

Another fantasy flashed in her mind. 'At this rate, we might do more than just hold hands…' She imagined linking arms with him, resting her head on his shoulder, and more.

'Kiss…'

The thought made her head grow hot again. She closed her eyes tight, trying to calm herself.

'Calm down…!'

Theresa's words echoed in her mind. Haste makes waste.

She took a deep breath and slowly pulled herself out of her fantasies. She had to take it slow, little by little. There was plenty of time, because Vera had said he would always stay by her side. One day, they would be able to truly connect.

She squeezed the bedsheets. For the first time in her life, she felt lucky to have been chosen as the Saint. She was glad she met Vera, glad she could be by his side.

She still didn't have a positive view of the Gods. She still thought her powers were useless. She still didn't know why she was chosen. But even so, she closed her eyes, relieved that the person she met was Vera.

'Slowly.'

She fell asleep with that thought, believing that if she took her time, they would get closer.

… But had she been too relaxed for the past three years? Her relationship with Vera hadn’t progressed at all, and she celebrated her 17th and 18th birthdays alone.