The Monster Lady and the Holy Knight - Chapter 35

“……”

The silence, sharp as a needle, pierced her eardrums. It seemed the sudden movement had reopened the wound on her back. Her pounding heartbeat was already beyond its limits. Veronica watched as the candle on the wall flickered dangerously. If she stayed any longer, she would be caught. She had to leave now.

“Women have a certain week each month where they must bleed.”

Veronica, who had been standing silently behind Oscar, spoke for the first time. The Church’s disdain for menstruating women was made obvious by the executioner’s reaction. He pinched his nose roughly and stepped back.

As soon as a gap opened, Oscar didn’t miss the opportunity.

“Since your question seems to be answered, we’ll take our leave now. We’ll report this matter to the deputy commander, so you can resume your usual duties.”

Veronica hurried along behind Oscar. She could feel the executioner’s eyes on them, but they didn’t stop. They walked calmly—just enough to avoid suspicion. But never too slowly.

“This way.”

Oscar bypassed the central staircase in the hallway, continued along the hallway, and turned right three times.

The Black Corridor was much larger and more labyrinthine than Veronica had imagined. Passing storerooms and a spiral staircase just wide enough for one person, they said nothing. To be precise, Veronica was too exhausted to speak. Her physical condition had deteriorated greatly; her legs wobbled, and she was short of breath after only a little walking.

At last, she found a moment to catch her breath when they passed the tall spiral staircase and emerged under the starlit sky.

Two soldiers stood on either side of the narrow exit, but they asked no questions at the sight of their uniforms. From then on, they slowed their pace to move naturally. The outside air, felt after so long, was cool. She breathed deeply, as though her lungs were finally cleared.

They exited through the back door of the papal residence and walked down the street. Few houses were lit, and the back alley was quiet, as if everyone was deep asleep. Oscar walked for a while between buildings before stopping in front of a small, lit house. He removed his helmet and untied the sword from his waist, holding it out to her.

“This is….”

In the blue moonlight, the red camellia on the scabbard was revealed.

Oscar nodded. “It’s yours. Keep it. I know someone who can take care of you for a few days, but nobody knows how things will turn out.”

Veronica accepted the scabbard absentmindedly. When their hands touched, Oscar awkwardly withdrew. Veronica looked up at him. Oscar stared blankly at her red eyes for a moment before coming to his senses and pressing his lips into a line.

“With this, my debt is paid. And just to be clear, about what you told the executioner… I mean, if it’s true—”

“You mean if I’m menstruating?”

Seeing how difficult it was for him to ask, Veronica bluntly answered, and even in the darkness, Oscar’s face turned crimson. No one understood the feeling of shame better than she did.

Wanting to put an end to his awkwardness, she added, “I’m not. So there’s no need for you to repent for touching an impure woman.”

Apparently, that had indeed been his concern, as Oscar nodded quietly, staring at the ground. After a long pause, he murmured skeptically, “I suppose I still have much to repent for…”

“No. Today, I will pray in your defense instead.”

Veronica smiled with her dry, bleeding lips.

“Don’t worry, I’ll speak well of you. How about I say that today, you were the most like a son of God among all the knights I’ve met?”

As her veil fluttered in the night breeze, her clear smile became even more pronounced. Oscar stood there as if stunned, indifferent to the cold. Just as he seemed about to say something, the door of the small house opened. A woman with a bob haircut, whom Veronica thought looked familiar, called out in surprise.

“Oh my, Mr. Oscar? Why didn’t you knock if you were here?”

The dark-haired woman, much like Veronica, turned and called someone else.

“See, I told you it wasn’t a cat. Emmett! It’s Mr. Oscar. Come out quickly.”

Veronica was immediately drawn to the cheerful woman. She was sure she had seen her before but couldn’t remember where. But when could she have seen someone from Kart?

A moment later, there was the sound of dragging feet, and a limping man emerged. It was only when they stood together like a newlywed couple that she noticed the woman’s pregnant belly. The man, struggling to reach the entrance, smiled brightly when he saw Oscar, despite the late visit.

“Oh, it really is you! Mr. Oscar, what brings you here at this hour?”

“I apologize for visiting so late without notice. I remembered your offer to come by anytime when I needed help.”

Until then, Oscar had been watching Veronica, but he turned his nervous gaze away. Veronica looked up at his throat as he swallowed dryly. He seemed clearly uncomfortable dealing with people outside the Holy See.

“I came to ask if you could offer this lady the guest room for a couple of days. I’ll compensate you fully. All she needs are three meals a day and some bandages for her wounds.”

A moment of silence followed his rushed request. It was certainly rude to visit without notice. After a brief exchange of glances, the couple burst into small laughter simultaneously.

“What are you saying? We’d never take money from you. Don’t stand out there in the cold; come in. We were just making tea, so it’s perfect timing.”

At the kind invitation, Oscar’s face relaxed in relief. However, he soon had to offer an awkward refusal.

“I wish I could, but I need to return quickly due to other circumstances. I’ll be back tomorrow. Until then, please take care of her somewhere away from prying eyes.”

It was certainly a suspicious request, even to Veronica. To suddenly show up and leave a stranger in their care, insisting she shouldn’t be seen by others. But the couple exchanged a curious glance between Veronica, dressed in a nun’s habit, and Oscar before replying.

“It seems there’s something you can’t discuss. Don’t worry. Hannah’s been feeling lonely at home, so she’ll be glad for the company.”

Oscar thanked the considerate couple repeatedly, asking them to take good care of Veronica. Then, after a brief nod exchanged with Veronica, he quickly retraced his steps.

As Veronica watched his retreating figure, the woman, now with a shawl draped over her shoulders, descended the porch steps and spoke to her.

“Please, come inside. It may be humble, but make yourself at home. You look pale, and your clothes are too thin. You need to warm up.”

Despite her description of the place as humble, the warmth emanating from inside made it feel luxurious. It felt as though she had been confined to that black corridor for over a month.

Was it the familiar type of people—ordinary citizens with warm attitudes—that made her relax? Or had she simply exhausted herself during the escape? When the woman’s hand touched her arm, Veronica’s tension melted away, and her vision grew blurry. She was startled by the collapsing world around her.

As her eyes slowly closed, she heard a shocked exclamation. Veronica, falling like a puppet with cut strings, worried. She hoped she wouldn’t bring harm to these kind people.

She hoped that whatever strange aura emanated from her would not harm them.

***

To conclude, the couple was unharmed. If she had caused them any harm, they certainly wouldn’t have given her such a cozy bed.

Come to think of it, it was strange. She survived without holy power, and when she escaped the black corridor, she even controlled the atmosphere. Why was she different from the other assimilators? Why did it feel as if she was gradually adapting?

When she first opened her eyes, she saw sunlight streaming in and a wooden ceiling. The peaceful sound of birds chirping filled the air.

She was sick of this. Fainting, then waking up, struggling to grasp her situation.

Turning her head, she saw a woman sitting in an armchair, engrossed in knitting. When she sensed movement and glanced over, her eyes widened, and she put down her yarn.

“Oh, how long have you been awake? You should’ve said something. Here, let me give you some water. Try to lift your head a bit.”

The woman lifted a mug and gently poured water to her lips.

“All night long, even in your sleep, you kept saying you were thirsty. You were sweating too. How are you feeling now?”

“…I’m alright,” answered Veronica.

It wasn’t just polite words; she genuinely felt better. Much more refreshed.

“What time is it?”

“It’s just past noon. Oh, you must be hungry, right? Wait a moment.”

The woman stood up energetically and went to the kitchen, returning with a bowl of stew. She also cut a large piece of bread and placed it on top. Veronica felt embarrassed, burdening a pregnant woman during a difficult time, especially as an uninvited guest.

“This stew has sausage, beans, and onions. It was just cooked, so it’s still warm. And this is a drink made by grinding root vegetables with sugar. Give it a try.”

“Thank you.”

Veronica raised herself and leaned against the bedside as she began eating. She placed the tray on her lap, worried she might spill, but felt the woman’s eyes glancing at her repeatedly.

“Does it taste alright?”

Veronica could barely tell if the food was going into her mouth or her nose, but she nodded quickly out of gratitude.

“It’s delicious. Especially this drink, it’s a taste I’ve never had before. Is it a Kart specialty?”

“No, actually, I invented it myself.” The woman smiled proudly before asking, “Are you from somewhere else?”

Veronica hesitated, her gaze dropping to the stew.

“Yes. I’m from Bayern.”