Try Crying Prettier

People who want water will dig a well. Damia pretended to be ignorant and waited for Callistea to bite the bait.

Then the Saint, who had been hesitating, clasped her hands tightly and opened her mouth:

“I’m glad to hear your family is doing well. But, the changing of the seasons is just around the corner… … I hope everyone is okay.”

It was a common blessing someone would normally say, but Damia suddenly remembered one thing. The fact that her stepmother, whose body was weak, suffered from body aches every year during the changing of the seasons.

Could it be that Callistea was saying this with this in mind? Damia, smelling something suspicious, asked without further hesitation:

“With all due respect, do you know my stepmother?”

Callistea bit her mouth. It was very difficult for someone like her to open her mouth.

But Damia seemed to have the answers she wanted.

“Well, Callistea-nim has no way of knowing my stepmother. I asked a silly question.”

Damia neatly retracted and put on a sad expression. And she laid the bait of what she was worried about.

“Actually, when reading the letter, it seems my stepmother was ill these days. So, if you ever knew her, I wanted to ask the Saint to treat her… … .”

“… … Why? Is she sick?”

In the end, Callistea couldn’t bear it and asked. As if a traveler driven to the brink of dehydration in the desert could not ignore the vision of an oasis in front of them.

Damia smiled at her strangely earnest question. And she quoted what Callistea had said earlier, replying vaguely:

“Well, as you know, the seasons are changing. She’ll be fine after a while. As always.”

At those words, Callistea realized she had caught on to her a lot more than she had expected. Then, at the same time as alertness appeared in her water-colored eyes, Damia opened her mouth.

“Now it’s my turn, Saint.”

It was a very calm voice, but it was strangely ominous. Callistea’s heart sank. Damia asked, looking straight into her eyes, fluttering over her veil.

“I’ve informed you of the person you’re curious about, so please tell me, too. Where is Cesare now?”

Naturally, instead of answering the question stupidly, Callistea pretended to be ignorant too.

“Cesare? Who is that? Is he someone who works for the High Temple?”

“Oh, you must know. You pulled him out of jail a few days ago, didn’t you? Using my friend Kael.”

She pushed back even harder without lifting a single eye. She didn’t have the slightest expectation that Callistea would graciously admit it.

The only reason she pressed her like this was to observe how Callistea reacted. Her coping skills were not very cunning for her advanced age.

“… … I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t even know who Cesare is, and I’ve never taken him away.”

The tone was strong, but Callistea’s legs trembled slightly as if nervously. The vibration transmitted to Damia through the bench.

Damia lowered her gaze and glanced down at her legs. Precisely, her low-heeled, soft lambskin shoes swayed from her toes.

“Didn’t we agree to exchange information with each other? So please tell me. Where and how did you manage to hide Cesare?”

“… … I said I didn’t know. If you keep putting pressure on me like that without any basis, I’ll just leave.”

Even as Callistea clenched her fists, she never raised her voice. Instead, it was just as she was about to run out of her seat, retorting in her low, quick tone.

‘Now.’

Damia, who had been aiming for this moment all along, quickly stepped on the heel of her shoe. The soft sheepskin shoes stretched and slipped off Callistea’s feet.

Her shoes were taken off suddenly, staggered as she stepped onto her cold marble floor. Not to miss the moment— Damia got up quickly from her seat and snatched her shoes.

“Oh no. Even if you don’t want to talk to me, you should wear your shoes.”

Damia knelt on the ground holding out her shoes. It was clear she intended to put the shoes on her.

“Come on, Saint.”

Callistea, who had lost her shoes, could neither do this nor that, and she hesitated. Finally, Damia grabbed her ankle; she then placed her shoe against her limp feet.

“Hmm?”

Just before putting her shoes on, Damia tilted her head.

“Callistea-nim’s feet are bigger than I thought.”

Having said that, Damia smiled meaningfully. Then she continued with words that had been on the tip of her tongue this whole time.

“Just… … like a man.”