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"She has a divine blessing that causes her to have be more fertile."
"Yeah!" Herta quickly backed you up.
"Do you know what type of blessing it was?" The doctor asked, writing something down.
"It's a fertility blessing." You repeated.
"Pardon me, allow me to rephrase: What fertility blessing is it?" He asked again.
"Herta?" You glanced at Herta, and she shrugged. "Useless bitch..." You muttered to her badly hidden pleasure.
"If you don't know what specific fertility blessing it is— divine, class-based, temporary, or what have you— then I am just as blind as you are, hoo-hoo."
"Wait a minute, hold on," Herta exclaimed. "You're saying there's fertility blessings that <span class="mu-i">aren't</span> divine ones???"
"I'm not certain as to what your slave is referring to," Nicodemus said to you, "Yet, from the looks on your faces, I can assume neither of you know much about blessings."
"What the heck! Of course I do!" Herta was annoyed. "I've studied-! I mean, I personally created a bunch of purifying-!" Herta glanced at you for approval. You subtly glared at her, which thankfully was enough to keep her quiet about her past.
"Tell us about these divine blessings, then." You said.
"Very well." Nicodemus clears his throat, "From what we know, they are blessings gifted by the gods."
You wait a little while, but he doesn't elaborate.
"And?" You say.
"That's the succinct version." He, wanting to write down something but not finding a pen, plucked out one of his feathers with a talon and dipped it in a nearby inkwell. "To expatiate, we would have to know about its specifics. Indeed, blessings are a thing of mystery even in this modern day and age. I wouldn't be surprised if most of what we knew about blessings was incorrect."
Herta seemed to grumble something indiscernible when he said that.
"Tell me, Mr. Doe, for how did your first slave-wife have this fertile condition?"
"She's had it since I've known her," You began describing it to him, telling the truth but not going too deep into it. Herta would chime in to iron out the story, backing you up.
"From what I can assume," Nicodemus said, "This Herta— no relation to the goddess— has some connection to divinity by blood?"
"Well, I never said-"
"Forgive me, but I find that hard to believe." He said, still keeping a good-naturedness in his voice. "I've dealt with Savants before, this is rather usual. To your credit you seem to be the most agreeable of them. By Artemia, there was once a Savant that claimed his slave-wife was an actual angel. Can you imagine that?" He chuckled.
"At least didn't say she was a goddess." You add, chuckling with him.
"Ha! Hoo-hoo! It would be a ridiculous claim, that." He nearly wheezes. "And I do not mean to insult you, or any Savant kin you might have— but Savant eccentricities are a mere fact of life, if you'll forgive me for saying."
"No need to apologize," You said, "I realize you must've had your fair share of Savant patients demanding unreasonable things."
