Chapter 311: The Saint

Ophelia could not hold back the tears.

"Thank you," said Ophelia.

They came loose all at once, without a single sob, and ran down her face to her chin and from there to her breast.

"Sorry," said she, and covered her eyes with the back of her hand. "Sorry. I did not mean to do this."

Kellar came over and pulled her hand down.

"Do not apologize for crying," said Kellar. "One day you will recover everything they took from you."

"I trust blindly in your will and in the Bear God’s," said she. "I will wait a whole lifetime to see the Bear God’s miracles."

Kellar looked up at the ceiling, watching Ophelia smile clumsily.

"Mmm," said Kellar. "How to put it."

"Tell me, master. What can I do for you."

"Well," said Kellar. "About what you said a moment ago. That I mean to use all of you to control people."

"Yes, master."

"It is not entirely wrong. In fact it is my intention," said Kellar. "The valley has worshipped the Bear God since before I arrived, and my command is wholly tied to his name. The mandate I received was to create the structure of the church. That means I may choose the ranks, the names, the hierarchy. And more important than all of it, the dogma."

He turned to her.

"What is preached and what is believed inside the Bear God’s religion. So I thought: why not make the state religion to the measure of my desires."

Ophelia pressed a hand to her chest.

"Master, you do not need to explain anything to me," said she. "Your orders are the Bear God’s orders to me. I know you are the blessed one. I know you hold full authority to do as you wish, and that the Bear God is the one who backs everything you do. I understand it perfectly."

She lowered her hand.

"I am a tool in my lord’s hands."

And she began to undo her dress.

She did it without hurry but wholly decided. The first button gave, then the second, and the cloth opened down the front from throat to waist.

She pulled one arm out, then the other, and the dress fell to her hips. Underneath she wore nothing.

Her body was thin and white, ribs marked at the sides and the belly still flat, and the marks of life in the forest crossed her thighs and knees.

She let the dress drop to the floor and stood there, staff in one hand and her face lifted toward him.

Kellar said nothing for a few seconds.

"All this for the Bear God?" asked Kellar.

"All this for the Bear God," said Ophelia. "And for you."

"And why for me?"

"Because you are the same as him," said Ophelia.

She wiped her face with both hands and then left them there, covering it.

"And because you are the only one I do not have to explain why I serve to."

Kellar took her wrists and pulled them down again.

"Look," said Kellar. "I do not know how far any of this goes. I do not even know if we will be alive in a year. But I will tell you two things and you can collect on both."

Ophelia looked at him.

"One. While I live, you do not get moved from where you stand. Not by the Bear God and not by anyone."

The girl stopped breathing.

"Two. If the Bear God ever tires of you, he will have to tire of me first."

Ophelia’s face broke again. This time the air went out of her with a sound and her knees folded, and Kellar had to catch her by the arm to keep her off the floor.

"That you cannot promise," said she, her voice in pieces. "You do not know what the Bear God..."

"I promise it anyway," said Kellar. "And if the Bear God contradicts me, we argue."

"Thank you for saying it," said Ophelia. "Thank you for worrying about me."

Her voice broke.

"Thank you... for not being disgusted to look at me."

Kellar embraced her and pressed her face to his chest.

"Why should I be?" asked Kellar.

"Because I know my body is in bad condition," said she, against the cloth. "I know I am not beautiful. I know that..."

"Do you know you are loved by me?"

Ophelia went quiet.

"I will not let you doubt it," said Kellar.

And she saw it.

Because she could see. The aura around Kellar had an even shine, without a single seam, and the shine did not flicker when he spoke.

He was not saying it to seem. He was not saying what one says.

Ophelia shut her eyes and pressed against him with both hands on his back, and stayed like that, breathing into his chest, the staff still hanging from her fingers.

"Sorry," said she after a while. "I am soaking your shirt."

"It dries."

"It is that no one had ever said that word to me."

"Which word?"

"Loved," said Ophelia, and it came out as though she had been keeping it for years. "No one. Not my father. My father loved me, but he never said it."

Kellar stroked the back of her neck.

"Your father loved you large," said Kellar. "He killed twenty-four houses for you. But men like that do not say the word, because they think doing is the same as saying."

Ophelia laughed against his chest, wet.

"You are a man like that too," said she.

"That is how I know."

"Then," said Ophelia, and lifted her face, "will you accept me?"

"This is going to be your place forever," said Kellar. "You do not even have to ask that."

He took her face in one hand.

"You are going to be the saint of the church. And my woman for the rest of my life."

Ophelia closed her eyes. Her mouth worked twice before her breath came out.

"Yes," said she. "Yes, master."