“……What is all this?”

Though she’d clearly heard something about ‘gifts’ arriving, Merrien couldn’t believe the scene before her eyes.

By the time she realized the view wouldn’t change despite blinking several times, wondering if it was an illusion.

A junior priest, with an unusually bright expression, handed her something.

“This is a letter from Duke Hartez addressed to the Saint. Please read it!”

What he handed over was an elegant envelope stamped with a red eagle and sword emblem.

Having completed his task, the junior priest hurriedly ran toward the mountain of gifts once Merrien received the letter.

Merrien had no time to pay attention to the junior priest’s behavior.

Usually, such supplies were sent to the High Priest, so this was the first time something had come directly to her.

Moreover.

‘…Didn’t I run away instead of entertaining him?’

Something seemed wrong.

No matter how she thought about it, there was absolutely no reason for her to receive gifts.

Wide awake now, she started to hastily tear open the letter but became cautious upon feeling its luxurious texture.

She carefully opened it by hand, since the financially struggling temple wouldn’t have a letter opener.

The letter contained a very brief message.

[Payment for healing my friend –Ariel Hartez]

“…Friend? What does that mean?”

She examined it for a long while, squinting one eye in confusion. There was a small dog drawing in the corner of the letter.

“Ah, could it be….”

Whitey flashed through her mind.

“Was Whitey Duke Hartez’s dog?”

Just as she was surprised, exclamations burst out from among the junior priests who were rummaging through the gifts as if she didn’t exist.

“Th-this is premium grade steak!”

“Isn’t this the imported spice that’s hard to find in the Empire?”

And the words that reached her ears were enough to make Merrien’s eyes glaze over slightly.

‘……Meat!’

Quickly squeezing between the junior priests, she declared solemnly.

“Today’s breakfast must be steak. It’s from my friend after all.”

“H-have you become friends with Duke Hartez?”

“Of course.”

Merrien instantly became friends with a duke whose face she’d never seen.

Though she didn’t know the exact circumstances, she rationalized that since she’d healed the duke’s friend, they were now friends too.

She wasn’t the only one overcome with emotion.

The junior priests were busy dabbing their eyes with handkerchiefs, saying “Finally, our Saint…”

At the hastily prepared breakfast table.

The moment she put a steak in her mouth for the first time in six months, Merrien felt her wandering mind return.

‘Ah, so he must have come to the temple asking to heal Whitey. I really don’t know anything about the outside world.’

Unless it was gossip brought by nobles visiting the temple or stories spread by junior priests, she had no way of knowing anything.

The only thing she vaguely knew was that Duke Hartez was famous for not engaging in external activities. That was about it.

‘Someone like that came all the way to the temple to ask for healing a dog? If we hadn’t met in the garden then…’

Whitey might have died.

Thinking about that suddenly diminished her appetite, and she put down her fork.

“Saint, you’re already finished!”

“I lost my… oh.”

She was about to say she’d lost her appetite, but her plate was already clean.

“I’ll get up first.”

Merrien wiped her mouth roughly with a napkin and stood up.

When her mind was complicated like this, she needed time to think alone.

In the secret garden, as always.

***

“……Whitey!”

How could she be this happy to see someone she’d only met once?

Merrien had a feeling.

That this small creature would become her soul mate.

“Arf!”

Whitey was sitting in the same spot as yesterday, showing off his cotton-like appearance.

“I missed you!”

Merrien ran straight to Whitey, hugging him and covering his moist pink nose with kisses.

Seemingly caught off guard, Whitey tried pushing back with his pink jelly-like nose, but soon accepted it, apparently enjoying the attention.

After a while of smooching, Merrien suddenly became gloomy and lifted Whitey high.

When her eyes met those blue eyes that seemed to say they understood, words started flowing naturally.

“…I’m sorry, Whitey. If I had gone right away when they said Duke Hartez came yesterday, you wouldn’t have collapsed in a place like this.”

But shortly after.

Boop-.

The pink jelly-like nose touched Merrien’s nose.

Like it was comforting her, saying it was okay.

“!!!”

The soft-touch instantly melted away Merrien’s gloomy mood.

“Whitey! Next time I’ll make you a pretty necklace. I can make it with flowers, wouldn’t that be nice?”

“……Arf!”

Though the response seemed slightly startled and delayed, Merrien attributed it to her imagination.

Before she knew it, Merrien sat on the bench and gently stroked Whitey’s back.

Whitey closed his eyes and contentedly growled softly in response.

¹With growled softly is meant the gentle sound that dogs make when they’re happy.***

“So you know what that Count said? He said he wanted to be engaged to me!”

“……Grr.”

It had been a month since Whitey started visiting the garden.

By now, Merrien and Whitey had become inseparable friends.

In truth, Whitey only listened while Merrien talked about everything, like someone sharing a secret they couldn’t tell anyone else.

‘Come to think of it, Duke Hartez hasn’t visited even once.’

Merrien had this thought while looking down at Whitey, who somehow seemed angry.

‘Even though Whitey comes to the temple garden every day, he doesn’t say anything and just keeps sending gifts.’

In the past month, the temple where Merrien resided had made tremendous progress thanks to Duke Hartez’s full support.

Because of that, she could escape to the garden frequently without getting scolded.

Though she still couldn’t avoid all the visiting nobles.

“Grr……”

“Whitey, why are you so angry?”

As the flower necklace she made became crooked, Merrien adjusted it with fidgeting hands.

At that, Whitey, who had been growling until then, suddenly stopped and stared up at her blankly.

“You’re still so small every day I see you. Like a cotton ball.”

As usual, Merrien gently stroked Whitey’s head.

When she paused, remembering something, Whitey tilted his head disapprovingly.

“Ah, right. I heard from the junior priests today that the Tower Master pulled another stunt.”

While Merrien gazed into space recalling what she’d heard, Whitey’s eyes rolled around.

“They say he brought a three-headed magical beast to his private audience with His Majesty the Emperor, claiming it was his pet. He must be truly insane.”

“……”

Whitey, who would usually respond with an ‘Arf!’, kept his mouth shut.

Before she could wonder why, Merrien slowly ran her hand over her face and closed her eyes.

‘It must be about time for the villainous Tower Master to visit.’

From all the information she could gather at the temple.

The Tower Master wore a mask so his face was unknown, but he had brilliant silver hair.

Despite being such a powerful magician that even the Emperor couldn’t treat him carelessly, for some reason he only appeared in the evenings.

The problem was that he went around doing crazy things like this.

“Sigh, I really don’t want to die by the Tower Master’s hand……”

For a moment, something flickered in Whitey’s blue eyes, followed by a trace of bitterness. But Merrien, with her eyes closed, couldn’t see this.

When Merrien opened her eyes soon after, Whitey was looking up at her innocently as if nothing had happened.

“Whitey. If only… I could live peacefully with you, away from this wretched temple, without getting kidnapped by the Tower Master.”

Perhaps that’s why Merrien started muttering while staring into those blue eyes.

Not knowing what huge ripples her words would cause.

Unlike her light stroking, Whitey’s gaze became serious.

And then.

“……Cough.”

Whitey coughed up dark red blood, just like when they first met.

“Wh-Whitey!”

Startled by the sudden situation, Merrien quickly stood up and raised her hands to use holy power.

But Whitey instantly jumped down from Merrien’s lap and ran off somewhere.

“Wh-Whitey, Whitey!”

Merrien quickly chased after him as he disappeared around the corner of the garden, trailing blood. Her hands trembled as she bit her lower lip hard.

‘I… I was too complacent. I should have kept healing him.’

She thought he had recovered since he seemed fine after the first day, but that wasn’t the case.

It seemed he had been in pain all this time.

Feeling heat rush to her eyes, Merrien deliberately kept them wide open. She ran blindly following the increasingly large bloodstains.

“……Huff, hah.”

When she reached her destination, Whitey was barely standing, swaying with unfocused eyes.

Looking like he might collapse at any moment.

Merrien shouted with a cracked voice, not even noticing she was out of breath.

“Wh-Whitey. If you keep running, you’ll collapse!”

Fortunately, seeming to have no intention of running further, Whitey stopped and faced Merrien.

Meanwhile, Merrien quickly channeled holy power with her trembling hands, afraid Whitey might run away.

[Healing Amount 500/10000]

As the healing amount increased, focus began returning to Whitey’s blue eyes.

“Are you okay?”

And the moment the white paw that had been near death touched Merrien’s outstretched fingertips.

The scenery suddenly changed.

“……Huh?”

Black wallpaper and clean white furniture. A huge bed big enough for two people with room to spare.

And an enormous room where the end couldn’t be seen.

No matter how much she looked around, this wasn’t a place in her memories.

“Wh-where is this……”

Merrien muttered to herself, though there was no one to answer.

At that moment, Whitey casually hopped onto the bed.

“Whitey?”

Still unable to grasp the situation, Merrien finally looked at Whitey and moved her lips in confusion.

Whitey stared at her intently before starting to transform into a human.

“……!”

Dark hair like deep darkness and skin so pale you could see the veins. Blue eyes so empty they seemed void.

As her gaze slowly moved down…..

Merrien unconsciously gulped.

‘That’s House Hartez’s crest?’

The red eagle and golden sword crest clearly emblazoned on the black uniform.

She could never forget it – the same crest that had been on Duke Hartez’s first letter and that the junior priests had excitedly pointed out countless times whenever gifts arrived at the temple.

The man who had been Whitey until just moments ago tilted his head with a slight smile.

“Hello, Merri. This is my first meeting in this form.”

……No way.

‘Duke Hartez?’

Merrien felt like collapsing right there.