Chapter 87: Hidden Matters of the Heart

“My birth was actually quite ordinary,” said the Holy Maiden. “My parents were tenant farmers under a baron’s rule. We lived on the lord’s estate, the whole family crammed into one of those small wooden houses with walls made of woven branches plastered with mud. Just beyond the wall were the baron’s chicken coop and pigpen.”

“You actually came from a tenant farmer’s family…” Vanessa couldn’t believe it.

“To be precise, a poor tenant farmer’s family. My parents weren’t free tenants—they weren’t allowed to leave the baron’s estate. I was their third child. I had two older brothers three years my senior and a baby sister who couldn’t walk yet. We lived in extreme poverty. Our staple food was rye bread, occasionally spread with pea paste, served with slices of raw onion and pickled radish. We rarely ate meat—the pigs and chickens all belonged to the lord.”

“Heavens…” Vanessa, born into nobility, couldn’t imagine such a life.

“From age five, I worked alongside my family. Every month we had to work ten days for the baron without pay—plowing fields, repairing roads, harvesting crops. My brothers and father were often conscripted by the baron to move wine barrels or transport stones for castle construction, all without compensation. After each autumn harvest, we had to give half our grain to the baron. We were required to use the baron’s windmill to husk and grind our wheat, and even then, the lord would take a portion of the flour as milling fees.”

Vanessa fell silent. She’d never known tenant farmers’ lives could be so difficult.

She asked, “When did you meet the Reverend Mother?”

“When I was seven. That year, nuns and priests came to our home. I saw the baron bowing to a wrinkled old nun. The baron and the nun spoke with my parents. They paid my family and produced some papers, making my parents press their thumbprints.”

The Holy Maiden continued, “Then my parents took me to play in town for a whole day. They bought me new clothes, took me to buy honey cakes made of eggs and flour. That evening, mother cooked pea stew with meat. At night, I held my three-year-old sister as our family gathered around the candlelit table.”

“They gave me the best pieces of meat in my bowl. My sister got grease all over her mouth and left a greasy handprint on my cheek. My brothers congratulated me. Before bed, mother bathed me and braided my hair. She kissed my forehead and said I would soon enter God’s embrace—that divine messengers would take me away tomorrow.”

The Holy Maiden described every detail clearly, as if it had happened yesterday.

“Did parting with your family sadden you?” Vanessa asked.

“Even as a small child, I felt I’d have to leave my family someday. When my sister couldn’t speak yet, I often held her while sitting before the windmill, watching distant clouds and sky. My parents couldn’t hear her voice or see what I saw. I understood I was different from them.”

“They always said their poverty and suffering were to atone for sins—only after atonement could they ascend to God’s kingdom and find peace and joy,” said the Holy Maiden. “But I never felt they bore any sin. I was simply happy for them, that they could finally escape that impoverished life.”

“So you were taken away?” Vanessa looked into the Holy Maiden’s eyes.

“Next morning, I woke alone while my family still slept. I hugged my father and mother, embraced my brothers, kissed my sister. When I reached the door, Sister Charlotte was already waiting. She took my hand, and thus I left that house surrounded by chicken coops and pigpens for an unfamiliar city.”

“Did you ever return?”

“No. Before becoming Holy Maiden, I constantly moved between cities and nations with Sister Charlotte. She seemed to be hiding me from something—we rarely stayed anywhere over a year. Sometimes in countryside, sometimes by seashore, at mountain feet or on plains. The longest I stayed anywhere was barely two years.”

“Reverend Mother was likely hiding you from hidden evils,” Vanessa said. “Before you matured, evil couldn’t be allowed to find you.”

“At the time I knew few secrets,” the Holy Maiden said. “I had no time to ponder. Sister Charlotte demanded strict discipline—even on carriages or transport ships, she scheduled every minute. She taught me divine arts, literacy, distant history. Daily lessons piled up. Each new church brought new teachers. As I aged, lessons grew more numerous and difficult.”

“Did you feel exhausted?”

“Physical fatigue was inevitable, but rarely, I also knew relaxation.”

“Because Reverend Mother gave you one day off monthly?”

“Only after my studies showed progress did she permit one monthly holiday.”

“What would you do that day?”

“Sister would accompany me shopping. Without nun habits, she’d hold my hand like a grandmother with granddaughter.” The Holy Maiden picked up a cookie from the plate. “I loved visiting a bakery hidden on a side street—they sold cookies like these.”

“Those were my most relaxed moments. Sitting quietly in that little shop with warm tea. Sometimes the owner gave free cakes—Sister had lent him church books, and he said this was thanks. He’d give me his homemade comics and storybooks to read with tea.”

“Those rough, thin papers held strange little drawings and odd but fascinating stories. Sitting by the window, when tea ran out, the owner would refill it, sharing snacks. That peaceful, cozy place kept me until dusk each visit. Before leaving, I’d buy cookies and pastries.”

Vanessa imagined such rare relaxation.

“Are you remembering those times again?”

“Back then I wasn’t Holy Maiden yet, bore no saint’s name,” she said. “Naturally I miss those moments that belonged solely to me.”

She took a small bite of the cookie—no longer crisp, having gone soft from prolonged storage.

Though vastly different from memory’s taste, she detected faint echoes.

“Could you brew some black tea, Vanessa?”

“One moment.” Vanessa rose immediately for tea leaves and hot water.

The braided maiden silently studied the cookie plate.

Her teacher said history always repeats—a millennium ago, five saints destroyed the Shadow Monarch, ending dark rule and bringing new era. Now four saints had perished, shadows would return, cycles renew.

Fate seemed predetermined, yet she couldn’t surrender—must protect those behind her.

“Haidi, remember—countless sacrifices made you who you are. You must shoulder your destined duty.”

Sister Charlotte’s last words before she ascended the tower.

She no longer used the name Haidi—now called Serefina.

So why did those tranquil afternoons still surface?

She finished chewing the cookie, swallowing the crumbs.

Though Vanessa’s tea hadn’t arrived, she tasted faint sweetness.

Later during travels, she returned to that city—to Helburg in Nidran.

Helburg remained Helburg, but her familiar little shop was gone.

She heard the owner died years prior, his craft uninherited, old tables and chairs long stored away.

Never again that remembered tea, those recalled cookies—only the comics and stories remained in memory.

Perhaps this was her destined path—abandoning all to face the shadows.

“But still, thank you for those beautiful memories.”

“May the Lord bless your soul.”

Rising, she replaced the holy crown and grasped the sacred staff.

Starlight surged in her eyes as divine majesty manifested. Vanessa knelt on one knee, placing bone china teacup before her.

Gazing at overcast skies, only resolve remained on her face.

(End of Volume 1)