Chapter : 59
After Gabriel had left, when I was on my way to Misha’s place again to take off the dress I had tried on, I happened to run into Canna, who had just returned from her walk.
Her already round eyes widened even more, and her cheeks flushed red. It was clearly the face of someone who had fallen at first sight. It made me think that this was exactly the kind of reaction Misha had wanted from Gabriel.
“Are you an angel? Why don’t you have wings?”
Canna exclaimed in admiration, covering her mouth.
Why are all the people in our household so good at flattery? Misha’s staff were quite good at flattery too—had they been secretly trained by Misha while I wasn’t around? Well, if you want to survive beside a villainess, you probably have to act like a sycophant and put on a good show.
“No wonder Sir Gabriel couldn’t keep his composure. Even I sometimes wonder why the young lady isn’t an angel…”
“You met Gabriel?”
“Yes. He looked completely worn out when he left.”
Canna mimicked his tone and walked with a dejected posture. I felt a twinge of guilt. Maybe I had been too harsh.
Should I have just accepted it? Or at least said thank you!
It’s not like I was actually going to fall in love with him. My goal is to avoid the villainess’s death flags, so I should have just gone along with Gabriel appropriately. That way, he would have actively protected me.
And come to think of it… wasn’t that not even a real confession? I was the one who jumped to conclusions and asked if it was a confession. When I asked, “Do you like me?” Gabriel couldn’t say anything.
Was that a zero-confession, one-rejection situation? Didn’t I just jump ahead and reject him on my own? He does like me, but he never actually said he wanted to date me.
Ah! Why did I do that? I’m seriously regretting it…
I thought I had been handling things calmly since transmigrating, without emotional ups and downs, but in front of Gabriel I suddenly lost control. Not even in the middle of the night, yet I got swept up in some kind of emotional burst and ended up lashing out at the male lead who was just fulfilling his role properly. This is all because I woke up from sleep. That’s why people need to sleep properly.
Regretting it internally, I took Pudding from Canna’s arms. Even though it wasn’t time for it to sleep, being nocturnal and all, it had its eyes closed. When I scratched its chin, Pudding purred contentedly.
Ahh, this is healing. Animal therapy is the best. All the fatigue of the day just melted away. If Pudding weren’t a beastkin, I would have buried my face in its belly—but that’s a bit unfortunate.
“Canna, thanks for taking Pudding for a walk in my place.”
“It’s nothing. You were busy today, young lady.”
I had a prior engagement with Gabriel today, so Canna had taken care of the walk for me. Usually, Canna handled these kinds of errands.
Since she was the newest among the staff, external duties were usually handled by Hena and Daisy. Especially lately, Daisy, who had more experience, accompanied me often. Because of that, I think I may have been neglecting Canna a bit. I should reflect on that.
“Are you heading to Lady Schmittiana?”
“That’s right. You should come with me too.”
Hena and Daisy had already had their measurements taken; only Canna remained. If we go together, I can return the dress while Canna gets measured.
“Me as well?”
“Yes. We should have one made for you too.”
“For me?”
“I already asked them to make Hena’s and Daisy’s. When we went to the temple last time, you were treated harshly because of me, weren’t you?”
Canna seemed to recall what happened at the Great Temple and nodded, then clung to my arms. Pudding, whose space was being invaded, waved its paw in protest.
Hey, Pudding. Canna took care of you all day—at least give up a little space in my arms.
“Young laaady…”
A teary voice came from below. Wait, is she crying? Over making one dress?
This was the same Canna who, when I scattered gold coins, gave a thumbs-up saying, “Our young lady is the best!” The same Canna who remained composed even when I bought enough ready-made clothes to fill an entire carriage, calmly saying, “You must have had a hard time choosing clothes.”
So custom-made clothing really was the answer? Good. Let’s go with permanently employing Misha.
“I’ll always belong to the young lady until the day I die. Use me however you wish.”
Canna sniffled. No… I’m not going to “use” you. Saying something like that with a congested voice doesn’t sound very cool either. As expected, heroines who repay kindness go all out in devotion.
“You like me, don’t you, young lady?”
Canna looked up at me while still in my arms, her eyes brimming with tears.
There’s technically another answer, but given Gabriel’s track record… I couldn’t be harsh to someone who was crying, so I just nodded.
Come to think of it, when I read novels, I usually end up liking the female lead the most. So I guess that means I like Canna too.
Gabriel had a dream.
It was the same familiar nightmare he always had. A carriage raced violently forward, and a child was crushed beneath its wheels. The driver, furious that an accident almost occurred involving someone of high status, cursed loudly and continued driving. Someone whispered that the carriage belonged to a bishop.
“They say that high-ranking official made great contributions in capturing those so-called sorcerers. How dare that brat interfere with such a carriage? Isn’t he one of them?”
“Stay away. You’ll be cursed.”
Voices whispered. Those who had stepped forward to help, upon hearing this, pretended not to see and left.
Gabriel asked the adults for help.
“Please help me. His leg… the bleeding won’t stop.”
But those around merely watched. None dared to help the child who had nearly caused an accident involving a vessel carrying someone favored by the divine.
Gabriel carried the child on his back. He promised to find a priest and seek help. Carrying a child taller than himself made his body sway under the weight.
He went to a priest. It was the same priest who occasionally performed miracles using holy water in the slums. The priest gave the same answer he had heard over a hundred times:
“I’m sorry, but I cannot help.”
“Liar!”
Gabriel lunged at the priest but was immediately restrained. A higher-ranking figure who arrived later clicked his tongue at the scene.
“What is going on here?”
“Priest Zabania…”
The priest explained the situation and was immediately reprimanded.
“You fool! That holy water would have been used for the poor anyway—what harm would it do to give it to this child?”
“Well… yesterday, Hurut was slightly injured, so I gave the remaining holy water to him.”
“Oh dear…”
Meanwhile, the warmth in Gabriel’s back faded. His heartbeat slowed further. He felt a sense of déjà vu at the familiar rhythm. A very slow heartbeat. This was undoubtedly hers…
“I’ll help you.”
The priest Zabania’s voice soon changed into the cold, emotionless voice of Lady Evangelin.
It was the very words he had longed to hear his entire life. And also words he had occasionally heard since meeting Evangelin Rohan-son.
Gabriel reached out toward the pale, cold hand offered to him—but when he turned around, there was nothing there.
At that moment, faint voices reached his awakening consciousness.
“Captain? Are you asleep? Even during all-nighters you were fine.”
“You normally don’t doze off while reviewing documents. You must be tired today.”
“You just came back from the Rohan-son estate.”
“True. What should we do? Should we wake him?”
Familiar voices. Raphaela and Uriel, perhaps? The dream began to blur as his eyelids seemed to close again.
“Bishop Marik summoned Sir Michelle… shouldn’t we inform the captain?”
At the familiar name, Gabriel immediately snapped awake.
Yes. That carriage owner from back then had that name.
“I’m already awake. It’s fine.”
“Captain!”
Raphaela greeted him. A summons from Bishop Marik. Normally, Raphaela would have woken him without hesitation—but perhaps he looked especially exhausted today, likely due to what had happened at the Rohan-son estate. Gabriel rubbed his brow and shook off the drowsiness.
So, why had Bishop Marik summoned Michelle?
“Where’s Michelle? Did he go ahead?”
“No. He’s insisting he must inform you first and is currently holding out, refusing the bishop.”
Raphaela joked, “You’ve got quite a subordinate there.” Of course, it was also a jab at how troublesome that subordinate was.
Gabriel stood and straightened his clothes. Raphaela helped smooth out the wrinkles.
“Let me guess—Bishop Zabania has already told Marik everything about Michelle? That old man has aligned himself with Bishop Marik’s faction. Such a hypocrite with no loyalty.”
Among those who had witnessed Michelle’s situation, Zabania was the only bishop. It was likely his influence that led to Michelle’s summons. He had even sent spies disguised as tutors to the Rohan-son estate—truly doing everything imaginable.
Raphaela muttered, “Let’s kill him,” but Gabriel stopped her.
“Bishop Zabania is not as heartless as you think.”
“Not heartless? More like a self-serving old man who pretends to be kind when others are watching?”
“Raphaela, I owe Bishop Zabania a debt.”
“I’d say your contributions to him were greater. Who do you think made him a bishop?”
Gabriel had grown up in the temple orphanage thanks to Zabania’s help, escaping the slums. He had also been able to perform the funeral for the older brother he had lived with.
Though time had passed and Zabania’s benevolence may have faded, to Gabriel, Zabania had once shown him an unforgettable kindness.
Of course, that was only Gabriel’s perspective.
Raphaela saw it differently. To someone born into a ducal family, kindness was something expected. Sending a child to an orphanage rather than supporting them with holy water was simply the obvious course of action.
Since then, Gabriel had joined the knight order at a young age and now served as its captain, effectively acting as Zabania’s right hand—so his debt had long since been repaid.
Rather than argue, Gabriel chose to focus on the matter at hand.
He called out to Michelle, who was waiting nearby.
“Captain.”
“Michelle, did Bishop Marik explain why he summoned you?”
“No. But if I had to guess, it must be about the painting.”
That aligned with Gabriel’s own thoughts. The only reason to summon Michelle was that. However, it was strange that considerable time had passed since the day the painting burned.
After the priest Verga was captured from the monastery where Daisy had stayed, opinions about the painting had reversed, and people were now quiet about it as if nothing had happened. There was concern that similar incidents might spread.
That was why Gabriel had asked Evangelin to be his partner at the ball—to counteract the influence of the painting with an even greater presence.
That presence was Evangelin Rohan-son. In fact, those who had stood before the burning painting regained their senses after encountering the young lady.
One odd thing, however, was that people failed to clearly remember Evangelin herself, recalling her only as an exceptionally beautiful noblewoman. The only one who truly remembered her clearly was Michelle.
Those who frequented the temple and had seen the painting were mostly nobles and wealthy merchants. Word had spread widely, attracting many curious onlookers.
Since it was impossible to individually track down everyone influenced by the painting, they had to go where they gathered most: the social circles. Temple records included visitor logs, so they planned to attend gatherings alongside Evangelin where those visitors would likely appear.
However, rumors about Evangelin’s strange behavior were becoming an obstacle. Despite never having appeared in society, rumors about her were rampant—so much so that it seemed deliberate.
To attend as many events as possible and suppress those rumors, Gabriel accompanying her was the best solution. His public reputation was flawless, and as a holy knight, his presence would help dilute negative perceptions.
Though he had worried she might refuse, Evangelin accepted after hearing the explanation. For a noble lady her age, it was not an unreasonable decision.
Realizing his thoughts had drifted back to Evangelin, Gabriel shook himself free of them. Now was the time to focus on Michelle and Bishop Marik.
Come to think of it…
Gabriel looked at Michelle.
Canna had said she was the only one to survive that horrific scene—but Gabriel knew of another: a subordinate who had become a fervent believer.
“Michelle.”
Canna hadn’t known, of course. Gabriel had never informed Evangelin of Michelle’s abnormal behavior, and Michelle himself tended to restrain his fanaticism in front of her.
“I have a question.”
“Should I prepare a shovel?”
“I’m not joking. Back then—when the young lady splashed water on you.”
“Ah. Yes, that time?”
“What did you see then?”
Did Michelle, like Gabriel, see that extraordinary red world? Michelle’s expression turned almost enraptured as he recalled the moment.
“White.”
If white, then only one being could truly be described as pure white. Michelle continued as though in a dream.
“The world was engulfed in flames, but she alone was completely white. As if already burned down to ashes. Yes, like Donau. Ah, of course, I now understand that she and the Donau incident are not comparable.”
Unfortunately, their experiences differed. From his description, it seemed he saw Evangelin while his body was already engulfed in flames, rather than the same phenomenon Gabriel witnessed. Evangelin had been wearing white at the time as well.
“Oh, and I saw her eyes too. Not the pattern drawn in the painting, but real eyes. Maybe it was some kind of halo?”
That was the first time Gabriel had heard that.
Eyes? Could they be the same eyes he had seen?
“Why didn’t you mention this before?”
“Because everyone would think I was strange. Except the captain!”
Not strange—just changed. Michelle’s personality had shifted significantly from before. He had once been shy, quiet, and composed. Now he seemed like an entirely different person.
Yes. Michelle had also seen those eyes.
Gabriel, having momentarily tried to put Evangelin out of his mind, forgot all about it and asked:
“Michelle… after seeing that, how did you come to worship the young lady?”
Michelle replied in a dreamlike voice:
“Because she saved me.”
His reason was surprisingly simple and understandable, unlike blind fanaticism.
Come to think of it, Canna had also been saved by Evangelin when she was kidnapped by Donau Blue. Daisy, who had once been hostile, had been the same.
Then what about me?
Gabriel had missed the moment to be saved. Even if Evangelin helped him in a dream, the dead child would not return to life, and reality would not change.
Was that why he could not accept Evangelin?
For a brief moment, Gabriel pushed those thoughts aside. Even if a tide would one day engulf everything, for now he needed to face the immediate threat.
When he arrived at Bishop Marik’s residence, the attendants greeted him.
“Sir Gabriel. The bishop has been waiting for you. Please come inside.”
“Did you not summon Sir Michelle?”
Gabriel asked with a slight frown. The priest lowered his gaze under the pressure. Before he could respond, another man beside him casually explained:
“There seems to have been a misunderstanding. While Sir Michelle was summoned, it was for a post-review. That is our responsibility, not the bishop’s.”
Michelle glanced at Gabriel, sensing the situation was odd. What a remarkable subordinate, causing trouble for his respected superior.
“Haha. Post-reviews are always required, as you know, Captain.”
“Yes.”
The previously intimidated priest regained confidence and chimed in.
It had already been about a month since the Donau painting burned. As the priest said, post-reviews were typically conducted after such major incidents. Gabriel had failed to recognize Marik’s true intent due to his dulled sense of time.
Marik had used Michelle as bait.
When Gabriel had previously been summoned, he had delayed the meeting with excuses. So Marik had switched tactics. That explained why Michelle had not been told the reason—if it was a post-review, Gabriel would not accompany him.
By doing this, Marik could also avoid criticism for summoning Gabriel without proper grounds.
“Since you’ve come together, why not speak with the bishop while Sir Michelle completes his review?”
“It’s late. I cannot impose.”
“Impose? Not at all. It is my goodwill. Surely the knight captain has something he wishes to hear from me?”
As Gabriel declined, another voice interjected. Hearing the commotion, Bishop Marik himself emerged. He still wore a veil.
“Do you not even have time for a cup of tea and a conversation? I always drink tea before bed. It helps relieve fatigue and promotes restful sleep. You look like you could use some rest as well.”
It was a gentle form of coercion. The priests nearby looked enviously at Gabriel, who was being granted the honor of sharing tea with the bishop. In the end, Gabriel could not resist the persistent invitation and reluctantly agreed.
“I appreciate your kindness. I have indeed been quite fatigued lately.”
Gabriel exchanged a glance with Michelle before parting ways. He had previously explained how much could be shared with outsiders, so Michelle would remember.
Raphaela had said Michelle’s mind had “gone crazy,” but from Gabriel’s perspective, his object of devotion had simply shifted from Rachel to Evangelin. As seen in their earlier conversation, Michelle remained quite composed. He would not say anything harmful about Evangelin. That much could be trusted.
“Please come in. It’s a modest place.”
Gabriel stepped into the office.
As stated, it was a rather simple interior for someone of bishop rank. Compared to Zabania’s office, which was known for its modest luxury yet still contained several decorations, Marik’s office felt barren—almost like a monastery.
Marik had originally been a nun, so it likely reflected old habits. Sitting down, he personally brewed and served tea.
“This is the first time we’ve spoken one-on-one like this.”
After filling his own cup, Marik sat across from Gabriel.
He slightly lifted his veil to drink. Beneath it, his lower face bore burn scars where flesh had melted.
“Ugly, isn’t it?”
“No, not at all.”
“No need to be polite. I cover it because I myself find it difficult to look at my own face.”
It was well known within the temple that Bishop Marik hid her face due to burn scars. She also avoided eating meals with others, which made it surprising that Gabriel was included among the rare exceptions.
Gabriel followed her lead and sipped the tea. It was lukewarm, not particularly hot.
“So, what is it you wished to speak about?”
“You should approach people with more patience.”
When Gabriel prompted her, Marik chided him to slow down. Only after finishing her tea and covering her veil again did she begin.
“I’ve heard congratulations are in order for you.”
“For me?”
“Hmm? You look puzzled. There’s been talk that you will be the debutante partner of Lady Rohan-son.”
“Yes, that is correct.”
So that was the reason he had been called—information about Evangelin. Gabriel nodded. Rumors had spread while invitations to the Crown Prince’s birthday banquet were being distributed.
“A debut at twenty…”
“Given that the young lady had been unwell, we thought it best to proceed now that she has recovered.”
“So you’re looking after someone you favor? Well, Lady Rohan-son only has you to rely on.”
Marik’s words sounded like praise for Gabriel, but in truth they subtly mocked Evangelin’s circumstances.
“Lady Rohan-son has no mother to depend on. She has had no interaction with other nobles and is said to be estranged from her maternal family as well, correct?”
That too was a well-known rumor. In addition, even her father, Count Rohan-son, avoided staying at the household for various reasons, which only fueled further speculation.
“I didn’t expect the bishop to pay attention to rumors.”
“When one loses sight, one’s ears grow sharper.”
Gabriel examined Marik discreetly, though her gaze was hidden beneath the veil.
“Then is it true that the Countess of Toten will act as her chaperone?”
That was information known only to those directly involved. How had it leaked?
The Dolline Ponor side had been tightly sealed, and it was unlikely that servants from the Rohan-son estate had leaked it. Could Zabania have increased surveillance out of distrust? Perhaps they monitored the estate’s carriages. Or perhaps the leak came from the comparatively looser Toten side.
“However, it seems things have gone awry. Since visiting the marquis’s estate, the Marchioness of Toten has been in seclusion and has not appeared in the temple either. She likely will not be taking your calls.”
How much did she know? Did she even know about Gabriel’s arrangement with the Marchioness of Toten? And why was she deliberately revealing that to him?
“Shall I take on the role of chaperone?”
Gabriel froze in surprise. Marik sat upright, composed. Without any discernible habits or expressions, it was impossible to read her thoughts.
“Lady Rohan-son’s circumstances seem rather unfortunate.”
“You are aware that I prefer not to engage in social circles, are you not? I cannot impose such burdens on you.”
“I am suggesting this as part of my own interest. It is the banquet of the Crown Prince, the future glory of the Empire. The temple should also make an appearance. I have also been invited and intend to attend.”
Future glory… Everyone knew the Emperor still held onto the throne, unwilling to pass it to his son. Yet Marik spoke as if it were already established truth.
“If not the Marchioness of Toten, then I will serve as her chaperone.”
Gabriel felt as though the eyes hidden beneath the veil would gleam.
