“Is she… running away right now?”
“No way~ did we embarrass her or something?”
Without even realizing it, the triplets were muttering words that hit uncomfortably close to home.
Meanwhile—
“Is it… this way…?”
The moment Ivyn stepped into the tower, she stopped to take in her surroundings.
Soft, pearly light washed over the interior, courtesy of faintly luminous orbs.
What caught her eye more than anything, however, were the numerous works of art hung along the walls.
Every surface—the walls, ceiling, and even the floor—was adorned with paintings that were clearly worth a fortune.
Only then did Ivyn finally understand the strange sense of displacement that had overwhelmed her the moment she stepped inside.
This place… How should I put it? It feels less like the abode of the Saintess, known to the empire’s citizens and faithful as the ‘Fragment of Flulla’… and more like I’ve stepped into the hideout of a wealthy merchant who trades in high-end goods.
As Ivyn continued looking around, someone suddenly appeared around the corner of the opposite hallway.
“—!”
Light from the window glinted sharply off silver armor, and Ivyn instinctively ducked behind the wall.
Next time we meet, I will not let you leave alive.
And sure enough.
Clank- clank-
The figure who emerged at the end of the corridor was none other than a paladin in full white plate armor.
Paladin Theodore.
…Is he on his way back from seeing the Saintess?
Ivyn held her breath, quietly concealing her presence until Theodore had completely crossed the hallway. Only when all sound had faded from the corridor did she carefully peer out from behind the wall and begin climbing the stairs.
“Whew~ why am I so nervous?”
The Saintess’s room was located at the end of the hallway.
Ivyn paused, smoothed the front of her clothes, took a short steadying breath, and gently knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
With permission granted, she carefully opened the door and stepped inside.
The reception room where the Saintess entertained her tea guests was surprisingly modest.
An altar with a sacred statue, a table for tea, and a few chairs… that seemed to be all.
“The daughter of the Butan household pays her respects to the noble Saintess. May Flulla’s grace ever be with you.”
“Welcome, sister. May Flulla’s grace ever be with you as well. Please, come this way.”
“Thank you.”
After removing her robe and draping it over a chair, Ivyn cautiously took a seat.
Stay calm, stay calm.
Yet, contrary to her internal chant, a pink flush had already bloomed on her cheeks, and her heart was pounding relentlessly.
Wow… she’s the actual heroine. Saintess Pavella is right in front of me! What is this fluttery feeling? Right, it’s kind of like the thrill of seeing your favorite idol in person. Reading the descriptions in the novel, I imagined someone serene and holy… But seeing her up close… She’s stunning. Glittering, even.
Her features were sharp and striking, and she gave off a much colder impression than expected.
Instead of a pure white lily, she was closer to an extravagant rose.
A cold beauty, not a gentle one… That’s unexpected. It’s kind of like a pre-holiday limited edition version of herself.
As Ivyn was sneaking glances at Pavella and marveling internally, the Saintess spoke.
“Sister.”
Pavella, who was personally pouring tea for her guest, kept her gaze fixed on the teacup as she addressed Ivyn.
“Yes, Saintess.”
“Is there… something on my face?”
“…Pardon?”
“You’ve been staring quite intently.”
“Ah…”
At first, it was just a gasp, a near-sigh. But once her mouth opened, it showed no intention of closing easily and began to spill words.
“Aw… Awesomeness. B-beauty… stuck on you…”
“…?”
“No—I mean. You’re pretty… No, that’s not…”
Having inadvertently voiced out loud a thought meant only for her mind, Ivyn let out a short “Eep!”, covered her mouth with her hand, and bowed frantically.
“F-forgive me!”
Who speaks like that in front of a stranger you’ve met for the first time?!
It was a new level of rudeness.
Pavella gave a soft laugh as she watched Ivyn’s face turn red enough to steam from the crown of her head.
“It’s all right.”
With practiced elegance, the Saintess set her teacup back onto its saucer and glanced aside from Ivyn’s mortified stare.
Hoo~
Ivyn puckered her lips and blew determinedly at her tea to mask her embarrassment, then—after stealing a quick look at the Saintess—hesitantly spoke again.
“The truth is… There was something I really wanted to do if I ever got to meet you.”
Pavella’s emerald gaze settled on the guest seated before her. Her expression urged Ivyn to continue.
Rustle-
Answering that unspoken cue, Ivyn pulled out a piece of paper folded into a neat little square.
Pavella studied the paper spread on the table with keen interest.
“…‘Psychological Test’?”
She read aloud the bold title at the top, then lifted her gaze with a look that basically said: What in the world is this?
“What… is this, sister?”
“Oh, I have no weird intentions, I promise!”
Was there anyone who looked more suspicious than someone who preemptively declared, “I’m not a weirdo”?
Nevertheless, Ivyn launched into an earnest explanation about the psychological test.
By the time her fervent explanation ended—
“So, in a nutshell… It’s a game to understand each other’s romantic inclinations through questions, right?”
The Saintess summarized the whole three-minute monologue in one clean line.
“Yes, that’s right.”
Hearing it from her mouth, it sounds incredibly weird and suspicious, doesn’t it?
Cold sweat trickled down Ivyn’s spine.
She wanted to meet the Saintess, said to be a fragment of goddess Flulla, to ask about her romantic preferences.
Anyone would find it odd.
Sensing the awkwardly stiffened atmosphere, Ivyn quickly added more.
“I-I really wanted to try this game with a friend my age! I’ve been sickly since I was little, and I spent most of my time alone in the countryside, so… I never had a close female friend…”
As Ivyn offered an awkward smile to the Saintess, something flashed in Pavella’s eyes as she observed her intently.
And then.
Wrrrr-
Her emerald irises widened, pupils dilating like a ripple spreading across a pond. The table between them trembled ever so slightly.
Pzzzt-
Above Ivyn’s head, a shimmering sphere of plasma began to form. Ivyn, unaware, simply blinked those big eyes and stared forward in confusion. She showed no sign of sensing anything amiss.
“…”
Snap!
The plasma collapsed into nothing, vanishing in a tiny burst of light.
A faint, enigmatic smile spread across Pavella’s lips as she withdrew her energy.
“You’re clean of heart, sister.”
“Pardon?”
Thanks to Pavella’s words, Ivyn finally realized what had just passed over her like a breeze.
Eyes of Truth. One of the divine abilities the Saintess possessed—capable of detect lies and read behind someone’s intentions.
In the original story, Saintess Pavella mainly used this ability to heal the hurt of the faithful… But she just used it on me? Why?
As Ivyn tilted her head, puzzled by the strange feeling crawling down her spine, the Saintess spoke again in her gentle voice.
“Never mind. Now, shall we try what you prepared? I hope this can help warm the memories of your childhood, sister.”
╭══ ≪ •❈• ≫ ══╮
Several days passed after the tea with the Saintess.
“What? Rejected again?”
“Yes, Milady.”
Hearing the butler’s report, Ivyn’s shoulders sagged like wet laundry.
So my grand plan hits a wall this early… of course it does.
Plip-plip-
Ivy could feel rejection letters pouring on her like rain.
Every audience request she sent to the imperial palace had been returned with a clean, decisive rejection.
That bastard Rocinel didn’t even bother sending back a flimsy excuse.
Which meant that Ivyn, who in her previous life had never once been ghosted by a man, was now experiencing her first official “left on read.”
“This won’t do. I’ll go to the palace myself.”
“That is not possible, Milady.”
The butler looked pained as he tried to stop her.
“Even as a member of such an esteemed household, you require formal permission to seek an audience with His Majesty.”
“…”
Of course. Why would he want to face me, who outright told him ‘you’re not my type’ right to his face?
Ivyn trudged back to her room with slumped shoulders.
Waiting for her there was her personal maid, Jenny.
“My lady!”
“Hm?”
“Please open this. Young Master Ron left it here as a gift for you.”
…A gift?
From Ron Kinzell?
Ivyn’s expression wasn’t exactly bright as she picked up the rather clumsily wrapped bundle.
What flashed through her mind was a snippet from the original story.
The man once carried on his back a 300 kg grizzly bear as a birthday present for his little sister.
That man had sent her a gift.
“Umm… Jenny, you open it.”
“Oh my, may I really have the honor of opening it in your stead?”
Jenny, puzzled by Ivyn just staring blankly at the gift, carefully unwrapped it to check the contents.
Rustle-
“Heavens!”
What emerged was, contrary to expectations, an adorable fur coat.
[ I caught it myself in the Ghost’s Wail Pass and had the tanner work on it. Told them to dye ’em pink to suit you, cute, right?
The weather’s getting cold, so make sure to wear this on top of your nightgown.
—Brother Ron ]
…Ghost’s Wail Pass? Isn’t that where those corrupted mutant creatures roam?
Hi hi~ it’s been so long, right? I apologize… I’m still dealing with some stuff but I’ll be updating more regularly now
