Just as Andoain was presenting his questions to the Pope, Jeanne and her two companions, who were planning to slip away through the crowd, were met by Laterano officials arriving to maintain order.
Leading the group was the purple-haired Velliv. Though she maintained a professional smile, the slight fatigue on her face didn't lie. This woman had been working overtime for a very long time.
"We meet again, Your Saintess."
Velliv appeared exceptionally respectful now, a sharp contrast to their previous meetings. After all, a Saintess in name only is entirely different from a Saintess who can manifest actual miracles. The latter truly possessed the power to rewrite the destiny of Laterano.
"Is there really that much work in Laterano? I feel like you've been working overtime every day I've seen you. Do you not have any days off?" Jeanne muttered inwardly, noting the dark circles under Velliv's eyes.
She hadn't seen many other high-ranking officials besides this Legatus. It was as if the other Cardinals had all gone off to slackers' heaven, leaving this one honest soul to grind through the paperwork day and night.
"You can just call me Jeanne," she said aloud. "May I ask why you've come here personally?"
Why? Because of the miracle you just conjured! Velliv thought. She was someone who loathed unplanned variables; they made her feel as though she were losing her grip on the situation.
Yet, reality was cruel. Events would descend without warning, ruthlessly shattering even the most meticulously laid plans. In this regard, she wasn't as capable as the old man. The Pope could resolve any crisis with a touch so light it felt like a spring breeze—you wouldn't even notice he had intervened until it was done. This was the primary reason she was willing to handle the mundane affairs for him and work unpaid overtime: she truly admired that wise old fox.
"The Pope wishes to meet with you. He says there are things he wants you to know. Furthermore... he wishes to see this little girl, Cecilia."
She looked at the little Sankta hiding in Jeanne's arms, her heart full of complex emotions. Regarding such an unstable factor, her consistent advice—like that of previous Popes—would be to bury the child deep within the shadows of history. If the Pope was unwilling to act, she wouldn't have minded defying his will, resolving the risk herself, and then accepting his punishment.
However, looking at Jeanne, Velliv had a feeling that if she tried to use force, she and her people would be the ones suffering. Moreover, she couldn't withstand the combined opposition of both the Saintess and the Pope. She could only wait and see how things unfolded.
In the crowd, Feoria watched her daughter with an aching heart. She wanted to rush forward and snatch her child back. Whatever consequences lay ahead, she wanted them to face them together.
She knew the secret was out. Those around her daughter were likely there because of it. She could already foresee what the future held. Ignoring the whispers of those trying to hold her back, she walked resolutely toward the group. They were in a relatively secluded spot, though a few sharp-eyed citizens had noticed them.
"Please stand back, ma'am! This area is..."
"I am the child's mother!" Feoria declared before the Apostolic Knights could block her.
The Knights looked at the child in Jeanne's arms and then back at Feoria, noting the resemblance. Seeing Jeanne's age, she didn't look like the mother of a child that old. They assumed it was a lost child who had been found. How lucky for this kid, they thought, to have seen the miracle from the very top of the tower.
"Mama!"
Cecilia cried out in delight, reaching her arms out. The call drew the attention of Jeanne and the others. They turned to see the woman approaching. She was thin and looked somewhat frail—likely the result of the exhaustion of raising a child alone while trying to find a way for their family of three to be together.
"I'm sorry... Cecilia saw the people Mama said to hide from, and I accidentally got lost..." the little girl apologized immediately, seeing her mother's haggard face.
"It's not Cecilia's fault. It's Mama who didn't watch you well enough. It's Mama's fault..." Feoria took Cecilia from Jeanne, hugging her tightly as tears began to fall.
Velliv, standing to the side, was slightly surprised. She hadn't expected the mother to walk right into their hands. In Feoria's mind, she was likely surrendering to her fate. However, Velliv didn't interrupt the reunion. Laterano didn't actually intend to do anything cruel to them. Well, not anymore. At most, they'd be taken to the Notarial Hall to finally get their residency sorted.
"Thank you for looking after her. Thank you so much," Feoria said, bowing to Jeanne and Lemuen. Even though the secret had been exposed because of this journey, she couldn't find it in her heart to blame them. They had genuinely tried to help her daughter.
"We should leave quickly," Velliv urged. The Sankta nearby were starting to recover from their trance and were beginning to celebrate; many were looking toward the tower to see who was up there.
Once they were inside the car, Cecilia happily recounted everything she had seen and done with the two sisters. Despite her uncertain future, Feoria forced a smile to soothe her daughter, while quietly observing Jeanne.
What a beautiful girl. She seemed to have a faint aura of light around her. That divine presence filled Feoria with a sense of awe. She must be an incredibly devout non-Sankta missionary, she mused.
"Sister, this is for you!"
Suddenly, Cecilia took off her brooch and handed it to Jeanne. it was her favorite thing—a birthday gift from her mother.
"Happy New Year! This is my favorite brooch. I want to give it to the sisters as a New Year's gift."
Cecilia remembered her mother giving her gifts for the New Year, and she wanted to give something back to Jeanne and Lemuen to thank them. She had thought about it for a while and realized this was the only thing of value she had. She felt a bit bad that she didn't have two gifts.
"This..." Jeanne looked at Feoria. She could tell it was a cherished item, and it didn't look cheap—at least compared to their modest clothing. Her mother probably had to save for a long time to buy it.
"It is a gift from the child, and it carries our gratitude. Please accept it, if you don't mind," Feoria said. She then took out her own matching brooch and placed it in the child's hand. It was a pair.
Jeanne and Lemuen shared a look. Seeing Cecilia's pure, hopeful eyes, they had no choice but to accept. But what to give in return? Neither had the habit of wearing jewelry or accessories. They had candy and money, and Lemuen had her gun and bullets—but giving a child a bullet seemed a bit too "Laterano."
"Since it's a New Year's gift, I have something for Cecilia too. I wish you a bright future."
Jeanne took the wooden crucifix from around her neck and gave it to Cecilia. It wasn't a precious metal; Jeanne had carved it herself from a branch. She wasn't fond of heavy metal crosses for prayer; she found them clunky. Though it was only wood, it was incredibly sturdy from the sheer amount of time she spent holding it in prayer.
"Thank you, Sister!" Cecilia beamed, holding the wooden cross as if it were the most precious treasure in the world.
Velliv, sitting in the front, watched the interaction in silence. She was quite interested in that crucifix. It was an item used by the Saintess herself. She wondered if it had any miraculous properties. Even if it didn't, if she were to trade it to the Pope, the old man would probably be willing to cut his afternoon tea budget for a year just to buy it.