Until the Substitute Saintess is Loved: The Sister Sent to the Convent as the Villainess Heals Everyone's Hearts with Her Healing Powers - Chapter 11

A little before noon, Lord Landrick stopped by the convent and for some reason seemed intent on coming all the way to my room.

A nun caught him and immediately escorted him to the guest room, then summoned me.

Before my eyes, Lord Landrick pressed his lips into a tight line, not speaking a single word.

Perhaps I should try to start a conversation.

But what could I possibly say to someone in such a foul mood?

Through my veil, our eyes meet.

He probably can’t see my face.

But my heart skips a beat.

“…You.”

“Y-yes?”

“Aren’t you using the ointment…?”

“Um, that’s…”

What is this about all of a sudden?

The ointment is a medicine we often use on patients. You could say there isn’t a day we don’t use it.

“I sent some the other day. Addressed to you.”

What is he talking about?

He sent me ointment?

“I know. This place has a clinic attached, so you must have ointment on hand. But that stuff probably isn’t right for you, is it? Those fingertips didn’t get chapped just yesterday or today.”

Lord Landrick’s gaze is fixed on my hands.

Thanks to Mona, they’re much better than before, but to Lord Landrick, who’s used to seeing noble ladies, do they still look rough?

More importantly, I never received any ointment from anyone.

“They’ve improved considerably compared to before, but I apologize for showing you something unsightly…”

“Don’t bow your head! That’s not—that’s not what I meant, ah, damn it!”

Lord Landrick rakes a hand through his own hair.

“I heard from a nun named Mona. That you can no longer use healing magic on yourself.”

I nod at Lord Landrick’s words.

Mona had also noticed the roughness of my hands and suggested I heal them with magic. But whether it’s because I was originally forbidden from using healing magic, or because I simply couldn’t do it to begin with—it’s unclear—I couldn’t properly cast healing magic on myself.

“That’s why, when I came to inspect this convent, I left ointment for you. …Don’t tell me you never received it?”

It seems my confusion got through to him.

“First of all, why… why are you concerned about me, Lord Landrick…?”

Doesn’t he despise Sister Lupina from the bottom of his heart?

Lady Schmaritt, the Duke’s daughter, is Lord Landrick’s childhood friend. I can’t think of any reason why he would care about me, who’s here in place of Sister Lupina—the one who continually tormented someone so important to him.

“…Just a whim.”

He lets out a light sigh and turns away.

I don’t understand.

Ah, but.

“I also had something I wanted to give to you, Lord Landrick.”

I hand him the handkerchief I prepared when I was summoned.

“What’s this?”

He freezes, holding it in his hand.

“I wanted to thank you for helping me the other day.”

The handkerchief, made from scrap fabric, isn’t even silk.

Was it disrespectful?

But I remember.

How at the Count Ivor household, he saved me when I almost fell down the stairs.

How he showed concern for me, a maid, without looking down on me.

And how he saved me—who should have been the detestable Sister Lupina—in that back alley.

So, I believed that even with such humble materials, he would understand the feelings I poured into it.

“…Thank you. The embroidery is exquisite.”

Lord Landrick traces the embroidery on the handkerchief with his long fingers.

I’m glad. It seems he likes it.

The matter of the ointment remains unclear, but there must have been some mix-up.

Seeing Lord Landrick’s expression, much softer than when he first arrived in the guest room, I breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

◇◇◇◇◇◇

“It’s no use, get the oral medicine to this patient quickly!”

“Over here too! Why did things have to turn out like this?”

The nuns’ panicked cries rose from all directions.

The Zeka flu, which had begun spreading even though it wasn’t winter, still hadn’t subsided even now in the height of summer.

What’s more, more patients were experiencing worsening symptoms, and there were almost no empty beds left in the treatment center.

“Lupina, sorry, but hurry over here! She’s starting to have trouble breathing!”

At Mona’s shout, I rushed over in a panic.

An emaciated woman was beginning to convulse along with her coughing. This was dangerous.

I took the patient’s hand and applied healing magic.

Gathering magical power from within my own body, I poured my prayers into the treatment, begging for her recovery.

“Ah, thank goodness, the convulsions are subsiding. She should be able to take medicine now.”

Mona slipped her hand behind the patient’s back and propped her up slightly. Then she gently poured the oral medicine into her mouth.

(If it were my sister-in-law, she could have healed all the patients in this room at once.)

I could barely manage to treat them one by one. Even though I carry the blood of Count Iven, being an illegitimate child must mean my magical power is inferior.

After treating dozens of patients, I started to feel breathless.

“…Lupina, are you alright? Sorry, I’ve been pushing you too hard.”

Mona apologized while rubbing my back.

I wanted to say I was fine, but I couldn’t catch my breath.

(Could it be that I’ve caught the Zeka flu too…?)

My vision spun around me.

“Lupina!”

Hearing Lord Landrick’s voice—who shouldn’t have been here—I lost consciousness.