Tilda passed by Kales and walked toward the escort. She took the blue diamond ring from him.
“You didn’t carry out my order properly, so you’re not worthy of this ring.”
Instead, Tilda handed the ring to the wife of Viscount Douglas, who was still trembling on the floor.
“With the value of this ring, you should be able to support yourself.”
The woman stared at Tilda in a daze before silently accepting the ring.
Tilda turned her body and finally looked at Kales.
“Since you saved a poor woman, the goddess Valinnea will surely bless you.”
Tilda praised him in a tone devoid of emotion.
Nevertheless, Kales flashed a charming smile, seemingly unbothered.
“Just saving the woman has already renewed my faith. I don’t expect any further grace.”
“Is that so…”
“But if the lady wishes to reward my efforts, I wouldn’t refuse.”
At his mischievous demand, Tilda barely suppressed a frown.
“Didn’t you just say you weren’t expecting a reward?”
“I wasn’t, but a good negotiator wouldn’t pass up an opportunity that fell into their lap.”
Tilda could feel the wrinkles on her forehead deepen at his smooth response.
‘This is why I didn’t want to run into him.’
Kales was one of the most powerful individuals in the empire, possessing great divine power. He had endured ten years of rigorous training as a priest, including his time at the seminary, eventually rising to the position of High Priest.
He had neither family backing nor influential connections.
He achieved the title of High Priest solely through his talent and effort, and he was not only proficient in divine matters but also in swordsmanship and politics. As such, a High Priest held a status equal to a Duke within the empire.
If Tilda’s grandfather, the Pope, were asked to name an indispensable person in the empire, he would undoubtedly choose the man standing before her.
Yet, Tilda harbored a grudge against Kales due to his attitude.
Priests, by tradition, were meant to be modest, quiet, and calm. These were the virtues and customs of the old temples.
In this sense, Kales was a heretic.
The only thing about him that fit the image of a priest was his neat robe and silver hair. His direct way of speaking often seemed rude or arrogant.
Above all, the priests of the goddess were required to maintain their purity.
The only exception was the Pope, who, as head of the Valinnea family, needed to continue the bloodline. Any priest other than that who broke that rule would lose all their divine power.
‘But this man…’
For some reason, his eyes seemed to gleam with a kind of desire.
It wasn’t a simple lust, but something hot enough to burn and corrupt, a desire that stirred dark thoughts just by looking at him.
In short, there was something indecent about him.
However, if he truly were such a man, he would have long since lost his divine power and been stripped of his title as High Priest.
Though her mind knew this fact better than anyone, Tilda sometimes felt a strange sense of danger when she looked at him, a feeling that she should avoid him.
Of course, her dislike of him wasn’t solely based on this intuition.
The two of them were fundamentally incompatible in many ways. As the heir of the Valinnea family, whenever she attended the temple council and exchanged opinions with him, it was like oil and water; they never mixed.
It often felt as if he was deliberately picking a fight with her. Even when she tried to ignore him or mock him, he rarely showed any signs of displeasure. He would simply rest his chin in his hand and smile that unpleasant smile of his.
Kales interrupted Tilda’s thoughts.
“The ring you gave that woman—isn’t it your wedding ring?”
At the mention of “marriage,” Tilda’s tone grew cold.
“I don’t see why I should answer that.”
“As a reward for saving the woman, allow me to hear your answer.”
He always knew how to ask the difficult questions.
Tilda felt her expression sharpen as she struggled to maintain control over her face.
“If you want a reward, I’ll ask my grandfather to commend your actions today.”
Despite her icy reply, Kales burst into laughter.
“As always, you leave no opening at all.”
“Is there any reason I should?”
Kales dropped his smile and answered,
“Of course not.”
“Then I’ll take my leave.”
As Tilda said this, Kales placed a hand on his chest and bowed his head.
“May the holy flame of the goddess be with you.”
He only looked like a devout priest in moments like this, when he offered a formal farewell.
━━━━━ ∙ʚ(✧)ɞ∙ ━━━━━
By the time Tilda arrived at the Belmont Duchy, her maternal family’s estate, she was already exhausted.
Technically, her family name was Valinnea, and it would have made sense for her to go to the Papal Palace where her grandfather resided. But she didn’t.
She felt uncomfortable.
When she’d told her grandfather she had nowhere to go after her divorce, she feared the cold reception she might receive from him, who treated her like she didn’t exist.
Though her grandfather was currently visiting another continent, she had no desire to return to the papal estate.
With her father having died in an accident a year ago, the Belmont estate no longer felt like home to her either.
“Did you hear? Lady Tilda is about to get divorced.”
Even overhearing such things didn’t surprise her anymore.
The maids hanging the laundry chirped on, oblivious to the fact that Tilda was listening somewhere in the estate.
“It’s finally happening?”
“That’s the word. Honestly, it’s sad. What’s the point of having a mother from the Valinnea holy family and a father who’s a Duke of Belmont? She has nothing left.”
“That’s true. Come to think of it, her life’s worse than ours. Where will she live after the divorce? Do you think she’ll come here?”
“That wouldn’t be easy. Since the Duke passed away, the title went to Lady Aclea. What reason would she have to stay here?”
Tilda rested her chin on her hand at the window of her old room, listening to their conversation.
The maids’ gossip wasn’t far from the truth.
It was true that her situation was no better than theirs, and it was also true that she had no right to stay at this estate anymore.
The estate had long passed to her stepmother, Aclea, making it her property.
“Lady Aclea must be in a difficult spot. She wouldn’t refuse if Lady Tilda wanted to return. She’s always so kind to everyone.”
Aclea, Tilda’s stepmother, was only five years older than her.
After her biological mother had died in a tragic accident, Tilda’s father had turned into a wreck, drinking heavily and wandering through seedy back alleys.
Then one day, he nearly died in a carriage fire on his way home. Aclea had thrown herself into the flames to save him and his coachman.
Though she had saved his life, the burns on her right arm had taken years to heal.
Even then, it hadn’t fully recovered; her right thumb’s nail never grew back.
The thumb without a nail had become something of a badge of honor for her.
People praised the young, beautiful woman for her bravery in saving a life from the fire.
Tilda’s father had done the same.
Impressed by Aclea’s beauty and bravery, he had fallen for her and couldn’t turn down her advances. Eventually, he married a woman only five years older than his daughter.
And Aclea quickly took control of the ducal family.
It was Aclea who had proposed Tilda’s marriage to the Winston family, as well as the idea of aligning with the Valinnea family to secure Tilda’s future as a successor.
Since her father had no siblings, Tilda knew that the inheritance and succession rights to the Belmont duchy would pass to her stepmother, Aclea. Yet, she did not refuse.
She considered it a form of atonement.
“By the way, doesn’t Lady Tilda give you the creeps sometimes?”
“She’s breathtakingly beautiful, but that’s exactly what makes her even scarier. How could someone so angelic have caused her own mother’s death?”
The maids’ words were true.
The one who caused her mother, beloved by all, to die was none other than herself.
Her eyes, resembling a serene lake, now grew murky, like muddy water.
In the past, Tilda had been born with an unprecedentedly powerful divine ability. The divine power to heal people and vanquish monsters was a privilege of the Valinnea bloodline.
But young Tilda couldn’t endure that immense divine power and suffered from sacred fever every day.
When the fever struck, it felt like her entire body was on fire. The agony was so intense that her toes would curl, and her back would arch as if she were a hunchback.
The one who saved Tilda from this was her biological mother. As a Valinnea herself, her mother absorbed Tilda’s divine power every night, cooling her fever.
Thanks to her mother, Tilda could sleep peacefully, and during the day, she could run through the fields like the other children.
To Tilda, her mother was nothing less than a lifeline.
But then, she died.
‘It’s a very precious fruit that ripens only once every ten years. They say once you taste it, you’ll never be able to eat other fruits again. I’m giving it to you specially.’
It happened when she was ten, on the day they went on an outing.
After eating a mysterious fruit given to her by a stranger, Tilda’s divine power exploded that night. Her mother, in the process of absorbing Tilda’s power, couldn’t withstand it and passed away.
People whispered.
“Tsk tsk, what a poor child.”
“Poor? She killed her own mother.”
“She didn’t know. She’s just a child. How could she have known that the fruit would cause her divine power to explode?”
“Still…”
“Being young doesn’t mean you can be excused for everything.”
Those words were etched deep into Tilda’s heart, never to be forgotten.
Though the fruit was rare, if she had studied theology more diligently, she might have known about it.
That’s why she understood the whispers. This tragedy was a man-made disaster caused by her ignorance and negligence.
What made it even harder for Tilda to forgive herself was that at her mother’s funeral, the emotion she felt wasn’t sorrow, but fear.
She couldn’t fully mourn her mother’s death at that moment, instead, she feared the recurring pain.
Without her mother to absorb her divine power, she worried that she would now suffer from the sacred fever every night.
That moment haunted her for the rest of her life, crushing her with guilt.
Even though her angelic mother had died because of her, what she had feared most was her own pain, making her feel like a despicable demon.
“Though now, even that cursed divine power has disappeared.”
The maids, who had been hanging the laundry, had long since left.
Instead, a four-wheeled carriage bearing the crest of the Belmont Duchy was entering through the front gate.
Aclea, who had been out, had returned.
[ Hi! Readers just pick up a new project, hope you like it and let me know what you think about this! As always, thank you for the support♥]
