Elaine had grown weary of her role as the “Saintess of Jerusalem.” Ever since she was a child, she had admired the “Holy King” of Britannia—a figure from a picture book her mother used to read to her. The “Holy King” healed all people equally, regardless of race or status, and was beloved by all—a true ideal ruler.
So, when she awakened to healing magic and was summoned to Jerusalem as a Saintess, she was filled with ideals. Elaine wanted to heal people from all walks of life and become someone admired by all. But what awaited her was a symbolic role, used to bolster the Church’s authority.
It was true that she healed both nobles and commoners. But the ones she healed were typically severe cases that only she could handle—serious illnesses and grave injuries. And it wasn’t out of goodwill. The Church proudly announced that it had a Saintess with powerful healing magic to elevate its prestige. She was being used.
Her fellow priests were far from the people she’d dreamed of working with. Their conversations were all about which noble they healed, or who had praised them—nothing but prestige and reputation.
On top of that, they even mocked Elaine for spending her days off treating commoners as a volunteer. Apparently, healers as noble as the “Holy King” didn’t exist here. The more she thought about it, the more everything felt ridiculous.
The only one who worried about her declining motivation was Helene, her childhood friend and fellow elf, who had entered the Church with her from the elven forest.
Helene thought maybe if Elaine spoke with someone like Arthur—who also possessed powerful healing abilities—they could share their burdens. So she arranged the banquet. But to be honest, Elaine wasn’t interested.
She despised nobles who looked down on others, and from what she’d heard, Arthur was a clueless prince who only healed aristocrats. She even complained to Helene—why should she dine with someone like that?
Then Helene shared a curious rumor she’d recently heard.
“Apparently, Prince Arthur treated a child from the orphanage. The kid’s whole body was poisoned by a monster and had even lost an arm—but he restored it completely. Just like the Holy King, right?”
Helene had shared it as if it were good news, but Elaine couldn’t believe it at first. Healing a case that severe would take her half a day at best. And yet, this prince had healed a commoner child from an orphanage? Without even receiving donations?
If it were true, then Arthur really might be like the “Holy King” she once admired. While Elaine sat in stunned silence, Helene made a suggestion.
“Why don’t you meet Prince Arthur? I think you’ll find him more interesting than you expect.”
“Well, I guess I don’t mind…”
Elaine, who wanted to see for herself whether Arthur truly resembled the Holy King, agreed, and the banquet was set.
The day of the banquet arrived. Nervous (which was unusual for her), Elaine went to her usual food stall to clear her head. The simple seasoning reminded her of home, and she had grown fond of it.
The old stall owner had been kind to her ever since she treated his injury when she first arrived in Jerusalem, so she continued to visit regularly. He praised her a bit too much, though, which was now a little embarrassing and awkward for her.
Because… the Elaine of today, who resented the world and couldn’t oppose the high-ranking officials, was far from the “Saintess” she once dreamed of becoming.
“Kid… I don’t know what your problem is, but badmouthing the Saintess around here isn’t a good idea.”
“Huh…? I wasn’t badmouthing her. I just stated the fact that I’m more capable than she is.”
As Elaine was lost in thought, she overheard the stall owner arguing with a traveler—apparently about her. As she headed quickly over to mediate, she heard the maid accompanying the traveler speak.
“Lord Arthur is amazing—we know that already! Please calm down!! Ahaha, don’t worry about him!”
Arthur!? That maid just called that boy Arthur. Stunned, Elaine turned her gaze to the boy arguing with the shopkeeper. He looked around fifteen, his face brimming with unwarranted confidence.
“Because I can heal just as well as the Saintess—no, even better!”
Those words annoyed Elaine a little. She worked hard within her limits, and now this boy was claiming he was better?
As she watched him get dragged away by the maid and some knights, she sprinkled a spice from her homeland onto her meat skewer. The intense heat flooded her mouth and helped her regain her composure.
She was confident that her healing skills were not inferior to Arthur’s. But if he really was better… then had he somehow sensed how unmotivated she’d become from just a few rumors?
Elaine briefly wondered that… then shook her head. That boy didn’t seem nearly sharp enough for that. Besides, she’d learn the truth in the meeting that was about to take place.
“One more, please.”
“You got it!!”
She took another skewer from the energetic stall owner and added more spice. People had once looked at her strangely for it, but they’d grown used to it by now.
‘Arthur… are you truly the successor to the Holy King?’
She adjusted her appearance, and sure enough, the boy she met at the banquet was him. After a brief introduction, she asked the question that had been bothering her—why did he heal a commoner?
His answer once again shocked her.
“Well, nobody likes being in pain, right? I couldn’t stand watching a child suffer like that. And that level of healing wasn’t that difficult for me.”
He spoke as if restoring a severed arm was nothing. But it should have taken great effort. Perhaps he spoke that way so the orphan wouldn’t feel guilty or burdened.
His demeanor was just like the original “Holy King”… Elaine couldn’t believe someone like that was sitting right in front of her and asked again:
“I see… But that child was a commoner, yes? Forgive me, but I’ve heard that in Britannia, nobles are given priority in healing. In such a situation, why use your rare and precious magic for a commoner?”
In response, Arthur spoke almost as if scolding her, as if sharing the very ideals he once held dear.
“There’s no deep reason. Of course, there are limits. But within my capacity, I want to help anyone I can—noble or commoner. There’s a limit to how many times I can heal in a day, and circumstances vary, so I can’t save everyone. But isn’t that just obvious?”
It truly felt like meeting a saint. As expected of Britannia—the second prince of the Holy King’s line. As Elaine sat deeply moved, his maid Kei also spoke of his deeds.
The respect in Kei’s eyes said it all. Elaine could feel from instinct alone that Arthur’s words were sincere. And in that moment, she was certain: this boy shared the same ideals as the Holy King.
And he seemed willing to help even the people of her Jerusalem. When she tried to cautiously ask for his help, he’d already blurted out that he wanted to assist.
She fought against her instinct to kneel before him. No, she told herself—she couldn’t trust that easily. Anyone can say nice things.
Elaine had once dreamed of greatness, become a Saintess, and been confronted by harsh reality. She couldn’t trust people so easily anymore.
But… if he truly possessed healing skills beyond hers… and healed commoners while risking his own safety…
Then she knew—deep down, she’d have no choice but to genuinely acknowledge his greatness.
