Chapter 31: The Melancholy of a (Real) Saint

“Oh dear... I seem to have run my mouth a tad.”

Rafina grimaced at herself after Sapphias left. She drank down the last of her tea, its bitterness matching her expression, and murmured, “Being turned down by Mia must have hit me harder than I thought...”

The girl named Rafina Orca Belluga, bearing titles such as Saint of Belluga and the Holy Lady, was an object of reverence for the masses. The worship and adoration of her people, however, did not produce for her a single friend, and she’d lived most of her life without knowing the companionship of a close peer. Nevertheless, she never pitied herself. Her father loved her greatly, and her people treated her with kindness and respect. Her circumstances were, if anything, a blessing. Everyone treated her as someone special. And why wouldn’t they? Her specialness was an objective fact. What use was there in denying it? There was only one Saint of Belluga, and she was it. She was utterly unique. It was only natural for her to be treated differently.

But at the same time, she couldn’t help but think that the same applied to other people as well. Everyone was made to be their own unique person. Shaped individually by God, they were all different, and their traits were theirs alone. All traits were gifts from God, so all people deserved equal respect. So said God’s teachings, and such was inscribed in Belluga’s Holy Book. Consequently, Rafina found that her special treatment was a source of frustration for her. She was no more special than her peers. She wished they’d approach her the same way they did anyone else. Treat her the same.

Make friends with her the same.

One day, the daughter of a prominent noble came to her.

“Miss Rafina, would you please be my friend?”

Rafina was delighted by the request. Finally, she’d found someone willing to approach her without any of that special treatment she detested. She brimmed with excitement at the prospect of having a normal friend. Then, some time later, she witnessed something she never wanted to — the sight of her new friend beating an attendant with a stick.

“How can you do something like that?” she asked, utterly baffled.

Her friend was supposed to be someone who did not subscribe to notions of status. Someone who was unswayed by the fiction of specialness. Someone who saw her not as a saint or noble, but as a person. Wasn’t that why she’d befriended her? But if so, why was she capable of acting so cruelly toward her attendant?

The incident forced Rafina to turn her thoughts inward. After much reflection, the answer came to her. She realized why the noble girl treated her as an equal. The reason was simple; because she saw herself as her equal. Not an equal to Rafina the person, but an equal to Rafina the saint. The girl believed herself to be just as special, favored by God and endowed with superiority. It wasn’t impartiality, it was just conceit.

What a tyrannical belief...

Rafina thought of all who lived in this land — a devout populace who believed in and were blessed by God — as one big family. The various members of that family, be they nobles, peasants, or even beggars on the street, differed only in role. Those born as an eldest son bore both the privilege and obligation of becoming the next head of their family. Second sons, likewise, bore their fair share, and the same went for daughters, fathers, mothers, and so on. Everyone had a role, and with it came its associated privileges and obligations. These roles were not comparable. There was no better or worse, none noble or base. They differed only in the contents of their respective duties. That was all.

That was why she had nothing but disdain for those who oppressed commoners and tyrannized their servants on the basis of being a noble. Conducting oneself in a manner befitting one’s privilege and obligations was imperative. Failure to do so, in her eyes, was absolutely unforgivable.

And a Rafina who couldn’t forgive... was a Rafina who couldn’t make friends. Every noble who approached her was drawn to her status as a saint. She despised them for their despicable intentions; they weren’t worthy of her friendship. Commoners, on the other hand, held her in esteem, but made no attempt to befriend her. Eventually, she began to accept that her ordeals were simply an inevitable burden of her position. To be born into the role of the Saint of Belluga, she figured, was to endure a friendless life.

Then, just when she was ready to submit to her fate...

“Mia Luna Tearmoon.”

...She appeared. When Rafina first learned of what she’d accomplished in the Tearmoon Empire, she’d been astonished. Though born into sovereignty as the daughter of the emperor, she did not luxuriate in the privileges of her rank, but rather worked to fulfill the obligations of her station. She acted benevolently toward the masses and spared kindness for even the most destitute of her populace. When Rafina heard that there were people referring to Mia as a saint, she couldn’t help but feel a rising sense of anticipation toward the girl who shared her title.

“Maybe... Just maybe, she would agree to be my friend...”

From that day on, Rafina began looking forward to the day Mia would enroll in the academy. Her first chance to see the princess in the flesh was in the communal baths, where she displayed genuine consideration toward her maid, who was a commoner, going so far as to declare that she was her right hand and confidant. Her ability to see past the superficial gilding of rank and pedigree into the depths of a person’s character left a strong impression on Rafina, who came out of their first exchange with her emotions stirred. Mia, she thought, was the kind of person she’d been looking for all this time.

But she was wrong.

“You’re... even more than that, aren’t you, Mia?”

During the incident at the evening ball, she witnessed Mia’s forbearance. In dealing with those who committed a wrong, whenever possible, she sought to grant them a chance to make amends, and she made every attempt to realize that opportunity for them. Her approach was alien to Rafina, and yet...

“To err is human. To err unknowingly, more human still. Therefore, opportunities for redemption should be given in abundance... You are a much kinder person than I, Mia.”

She was surprised to find herself comforted by the thought.

Inconsistency in punishment was a breeding ground for corruption. A light penalty for the offender robbed the victim of emotional solace. That was why, all her life, she’d viewed with contempt people like Mia who forgave the guilty. Punishment was punishment. Those who held power were obligated to punish wrongdoing and right injustice. Mia, however, applied to the problem not principle but ingenuity, preemptively exerting her influence before serious damage — or, indeed, any kind of wrong — was done, thereby preserving the situation in a state where the party at fault could be afforded the chance to make amends. It was an approach to kindness that had never even crossed Rafina’s mind, instilling in her a sentiment that was almost admiration. But despite all this...

“It breaks my heart to say this, Mia, but you won’t win against me,” she said softly to herself.

She could already see with a great deal of certainty how things would play out. Mia would lose the election. There was no question about that. Had she embraced Sapphias’s scheme and resorted to underhanded tactics, she might have had a chance. Instead, she’d refused his proposal.

“Fair and square... with that kind conviction of hers... But she’ll in turn be shackled by her virtues, making it impossible for her to win...”

Rafina believed in Mia and her passion for justice. How ironic it was, then, for that very belief to assure her of her own victory. So long as Mia was committed to doing what was right, she was sure to lose. And the reason for her inevitable loss was...

She shook her head, as though trying to stop herself from dwelling on the topic.

“I was looking forward to having her cheer me on too...” she murmured, the hint of sadness in her eyes coming from the girl within the saint. “She’s my friend, so I thought she’d understand...”

Disheartened by the thought, she allowed herself to flatten her face against her desk, pouting as she felt its cool surface against her cheek. She of course knew why Mia was running against her. A rival candidate who could challenge her was necessary to ensure the fairness and function of the election. It also served to demonstrate the legitimacy of Rafina’s own candidacy. Moreover, the role of her rival could only be played by someone who didn’t place her on a pedestal.

“Gosh, this is so very frustrating...”

She knew. She knew all of it. But knowledge proved a poor bulwark against emotions, and she let out a lonely sigh.

“I’m trying, you know...”

Between developing countermeasures against the Chaos Serpents and performing her duties as the Saint of Belluga, along with running the student council as its president, even the diligent Rafina was showing signs of fatigue.

“I really am trying... so it’d be nice if...”

She trailed off, her suddenly-heavy lids drooping over her eyes, and soon succumbed to the pleasant oblivion of sleep.