She Became the Wicked Sister-In-Law of the Heroine

‘...A woman?’

I thought he would be an elderly grandfather. No, even if he wasn't a grandfather, I naturally assumed he was a man!

The Pope was a younger woman than I had expected.

Of course, she was only “younger than expected,” and not very young. She appeared to be at least in her early 60s. Her neatly cut short hair was mixed with some gray strands.

Come to think of it, since the deity that the Terenus religion believed in was also in the form of a woman, it could be possible. However, it was still a very surprising thing. The Pope being a woman was something unimaginable.

“Welcome, the daughter of Count Lucia Chase.”

The Pope greeted me with a trustworthy and cautious voice.

I felt my face warming for some reason.

Because of my prejudice that the Pope was a man, I felt ashamed, but honestly, the Pope was so impressive.

“Ah, I see... I understand.”

The Pope looked at my face and nodded, putting her hand under my chin.

I wondered what she meant by that, but I soon realized what she meant, remembering what Jerome had said earlier. She must have recognized me as one who had received divine trust. As a priest with spiritual power, she could recognize the chosen saints of God.

“May I call you Lucia?” the Pope asked kindly with a smile. I nodded my head, saying “Yes,” while looking at the pretty wrinkles around her eyes. She was much older than me, but it would make me feel good if she called me ‘Lucia’ in her kind voice.

“If it's not impolite, could you come closer and put your palm on top of this?”

At the Pope's words, I approached her, trembling, and looked at what she was pointing to.

As I absent-mindedly raised my hand to the circular object, I hesitated.

The winged staff of the Terenus faith, and a golden bead decorated with dazzling jewels. Even just rolling it over in my hands made it seem like an ominous object.

“Is this... Isn’t this a scepter?” The scepter symbolized the Pope's authority.

At my question, she nodded her head. “That's right. The Pope's scepter.”

Wow. Was this really happening?

Could I really touch this amazing thing?

As I hesitated, she laughed and urged me to place my palm on it again, saying it was all part of the process and that it wouldn't harm me.

“...It won't harm me?”

It seemed like a joke to ease my tension, but it only made me more nervous. Nonetheless, I mustered up the courage and pressed my palm against the scepter, swallowing dryly.

And at that moment.

Somewhere, a gentle breeze blew in, and a dazzling light flowed from around my palm.

“...!”

 What's this? What's happening?” I asked, surprised, looking at her while waiting for the Pope to speak.

“That's right. The one chosen by God,” the Pope said with a gentle smile.

So, this was a process to confirm that I had truly been entrusted with the task.

Taking my hand off the scepter, I wiped the sweat from my hand onto my dress.

“I had no doubts because I understood His will when I saw Lucia. However, the position of the Saint is so important that the confirmation process was necessary. I'm sorry,” said the Pope, laughing as if she was sorry for doubting me.

But I didn't feel bad at all. Just as I had doubts about them when we first met, they, too, were meeting me for the first time. I thought the verification was a necessary procedure.

“Oh, no,” I was about to say I was fine when she spoke again.

“Although you are not an ordained priest, you will have the power directly under me. You will have the same status as the Prefect, who can command all the lay officials.”

The Pope smiled as she spoke.

‘Yes, that's right,’ I nodded my head, surprised and unable to believe what she had just said.

Wow, the position of a Saint was really high.

When God said that “You can call the priests your lackeys,” I just thought that he might give me a few priests. But I felt more overwhelmed than I expected, since I gained more power than I had thought.

“There were even attempts to forge the trust... It's agreed that could lead to gaining overwhelming support from the temple.”

The Pope finished her words with a tongue click, as if she wasn't afraid of God.

“Shall we begin the ceremony? Originally, we would have gathered all the high-ranking officials and held a grand ceremony, but I heard that you want it done simply, so shall we do a brief one?”

“Oh, sure.”

I followed the Pope's guidance and knelt in front of her. When she asked me to fold my hands and close my eyes, the air around me suddenly felt warm. It was a feeling similar to the one I had experienced when Jerome healed my foot with his power in the garden earlier. Although I couldn't be sure with my eyes closed, it felt like the Pope was blessing me with her power, just like Jerome had done to Abigail during her baptism earlier that day.

How much time had passed like that?

She recited a prayer in a low voice and said that all the procedures were now finished.

“Is it over now?”

“Yes. Oh, wait a minute. There's one last thing to give you.”

In response to my question, the Pope sent someone to bring a jewelry box, and she handed me a necklace from inside the box.

Compared to the dazzling jewelry box, the necklace inside was quite simple. It was a simple necklace with a thin silver chain and a thick silver ring hanging from it. At first glance, it didn't seem like anything special, but in this situation, there was no way the accessory that the Pope would give to a saint would be simple.

I took the ring with a cautious touch.

Inside the ring, the words “God's Blessing” were engraved in the language of this world, and on the surface, the pentagon emblem of the Terenus religion was finely crafted with a very small gemstone.

“It's a Saint's necklace. If you show this necklace, any priest will follow Lucia's orders.”

I knew it. It was not an ordinary ring as I expected. So this necklace... to put it metaphorically, it was like a badge of a secret agent.

“Jerome, come here and put the necklace on Lucia's neck.”

The Pope called Jerome in a gentle voice, and I was startled by her words and hurriedly spoke up. “Oh, no...I can put it on myself.”

Of course, it was uncomfortable to do it alone because of my long hair, but I thought it would be better to grumble to myself than to have it done by someone who couldn't be trusted, which was the nature of men.

Even I thought these thoughts were a bit extreme. But fundamentally, as a species, men were not to be trusted.

However, my refusal was not accepted.

“No, Jerome has to do it. It's part of the tradition.”

The Pope spoke firmly.

So the tradition was that the pendant of the Saint had to be put on by the priest who would be closest to the Saint. If that was the case, I had no choice but to follow her.

As Jerome approached me, I couldn't stop the negative thoughts that kept coming up, even as he pushed my hair to one side to make it easier to put on the pendant. Even though I tried not to think about it, thoughts of the necklace being a common trick among playboys kept coming up. Putting on the necklace and bragging about it, saying, “It's not fitting well,” sticking too closely and getting sticky, or touching the neck unpleasantly. 

Even though I thought that would never happen in such a public setting, the smell of alcohol from the drunken old men who tried to wrap their hands around my waist when I worked part-time kept coming to mind, making me feel uncomfortable.

But despite my delusions—

“That's it, young lady.”

Jerome put on the necklace so gracefully. He didn't waste time or get too close to me unnecessarily. It was only natural, but for me, who had imagined all sorts of things, there was nothing but a sense of emptiness.

‘...Oh, how embarrassing’

As embarrassment overwhelmed me, I gathered my hair and lowered my head for no reason. My face felt like it was warming up. Jerome had no idea, but I felt like I had drunk a cup of cold water alone.

When I glanced up at Jerome, he was looking at me with the same peaceful smile as usual, as if he didn't know what was going on inside me.

***

“Rosalyn, Rosalyn?”

A sweet male voice shook Roselyn awake.

She had been dozing uncomfortably in the carriage but opened her eyes at the sound of the voice.

‘Albert...?’ she thought, mistaking the owner of the voice for her one true love, Albert, when she met his blue eyes.

But as she fully woke up, she realized that it was not Albert, but rather Seamus.

“...Seamus,” she said.

Her husband, Seamus, was nothing like her lover Albert. While Albert had black hair that was as shiny as a crow’s feathers, blue eyes, and masculine features, Seamus was thin and delicate like a woman, with pink hair that resembled the flowers blooming in spring. The only thing they had in common were their blue eyes.

Even if she had just woken up from a nap, how could she have mistaken Seamus for Albert?

“We've arrived at the mansion. You must be tired, Rosalyn,” Seamus said kindly, but she hated his smile. It seemed to mock her sadness.