Chapter 59
After Gabriel left, on my way back to Misha to take off the dress I had just tried on, I ran into Kanna, who had gone out for a walk and returned.
Her round eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed bright red. It was exactly the reaction Misha had wanted from Gabriel—the face of someone smitten at first sight.
"Are you an angel? Why no wings?"
Kanna covered her mouth in admiration. Why are people in my house so good at flattery? Misha's staff had been pretty good at it too—did they take a crash course from her while I was away? Well, to survive next to a villainess, you have to grovel like a sycophant.
"No wonder Sir Gabriel lost his wits. Even I was wondering why you're not an angel…."
"You met Gabriel?"
"Yes. He left looking utterly exhausted."
Kanna mimicked him, slumping as she walked. My conscience stabbed at me. I was a bit too harsh with my words.
Should I have just accepted it? Or at least said thanks!
I'm not really in love with him anyway—my goal is dodging the villainess's death flags, so I should just play along moderately with Gabriel. That way, he'll actively protect and escort me.
And realizing too late, it wasn't even a real confession, right? I jumped the gun asking if it was one. When I asked 'Do you like me?', Gabriel couldn't say a word.
Is this a 0-confession 1-rejection? Did I rush ahead alone and reject him? He does like me, but he never asked to date or anything.
Argh! Why did I do that? I regret it so much….
I thought I'd been handling things without emotional ups and downs since possessing, but I impulsively freaked out in front of Gabriel. Not even dawn, yet I immersed in dawn moodiness, venting at the male lead just performing his role well. This is all from waking up mid-sleep. That's why people need good rest?
Beating my chest inwardly in regret, I took Pudding from Kanna's arms. Not even nighttime for a nocturnal cat, yet it's got its eyes closed. Scratched its chin, and Pudding purred contentedly. Ugh. This is healing. Animal therapy is the best. All today's fatigue melted away. If Pudding weren't beastkin, I'd bury my face in its belly—too bad.
"Kanna, thanks for walking Pudding for me."
"No. You were busy today."
I'd scheduled with Gabriel today, so Kanna covered the walk. She usually handled such chores.
Kanna had the least seniority, so Hena and Daisy always helped with outside duties. Lately, she often went with experienced Daisy. I'd been neglecting Kanna a bit. Time to reflect.
"Going to Ms. Schmitiana?"
"Yeah. Come with."
Daisy and Hena probably got measured already—just Kanna left. I'd return the dress, she'd get measured—perfect.
"Me too?"
"Yeah. Gotta make yours too."
"Mine?"
"Already asked for Hena and Daisy's. You heard nasty talk at the Grand Temple because of me last time."
Kanna nodded, recalling the Grand Temple incident, then hugged me. Pudding, territory invaded, swatted a paw. No, Pudding—Kanna cared for you all day; yield a bit of my lap.
"My lady…."
A sniffle came from below. Crying? Over a dress?
Our Kanna, who cheered 'Our lady's the best!' thumbs-up when I showered gold? Our mentally tough Kanna, who calmly said 'Gotta pick carefully' when I bought cartloads of ready-mades?
Custom-made was the answer after all? Good. Hire Misha forever.
"I'll be yours till I die. Use however you like."
Kanna sniffled. No… I won't use it. Sniffly voice kills the coolness? Heroines repaying favors always go overboard in devotion.
"You like me, right?"
Kanna looked up from the hug, eyes brimming. Answer elsewhere, plus Gabriel precedent. Can't be cold to a crying person, so I just nodded.
Truthfully, I always liked the heroine best in novels. So I like Kanna too.
Gabriel dreamed.
The familiar nightmare he always had. A carriage races wildly, a child crushed under its wheels. The coachman, furious at nearly crashing a noble's carriage, spews curses and keeps driving. Whispers say it's Javania Bishop's carriage.
'That high-up made big contributions catching sorcerers. Getting in his way? That kid's a sorcerer too?' 'Stay away. You'll get cursed.' Murmurs rose. A few stepping up to help heard and ignored it, leaving.
Gabriel begged adults.
"Save him! His leg—blood won't stop."
But onlookers just watched, not daring help a kid who nearly overturned a divine favorite's carriage.
Gabriel carried the child. Hold on a bit more—he'd find a priest for help. Head much bigger than his own, body swayed.
Gabriel sought the priest who occasionally used Holy Water on slums for miracles. The priest repeated the same line heard hundreds of times: 'Sorry, can't help.'
"Liar!"
Gabriel lunged, but was subdued. A higher-up arrived late, clucking at the mess.
"What's this?"
"Bishop Javania…."
The priest explained, got scolded.
"Fool! Holy Water for slums anyway—could've given to the kid!"
"Yesterday... gave the last to hurt Harut."
"Damn…."
Meanwhile, warmth faded from Gabriel's back. Heartbeat slowed further. Familiar pulse—déjà vu. Very slow heartbeat. Surely hers….
"I'll help."
Bishop Javania's voice turned cold, flat as Lady Evangeline's.
The words longed for lifetime. Often heard since meeting Evangeline Rohanson. Gabriel expected her pale, cold hand—but nothing behind.
Then faint waking mind heard voices.
"Commander? Asleep? You handle all-nighters fine."
"Never dozes over papers—tired today?"
"Just back from Rohanson Mansion."
"True. Wake him?"
Familiar voices. Raphaella and Uriel? Dream blurred, eyelids seen.
"Archbishop Marik called Sir Michel... Tell the commander?"
Gabriel snapped alert at the name. Right—that carriage's owner.
"Already up—fine."
"Commander!"
Raphaella greeted. Marik's call. Normally she'd wake him without hesitation—must look extra tired today. Rohanson Mansion's effect. Gabriel rubbed brow, shaking sleep.
So why did Marik call Michel?
"Michel? Gone ahead?"
"No. Insists tell commander first—brushing off the bishop."
'Great subordinate.' Raphaella joked, mocking the headache.
Gabriel rose, straightening clothes. Raphaella brushed wrinkles, assisting.
"Javania Bishop spilled on Michel? That old fox rode Marik's coattails. Hypocrite without loyalty."
Only Javania saw Michel's state. Surely his influence. Spy as tutor to Rohanson, now this. Raphaella ranted kill him; Gabriel stopped her.
"Bishop Javania isn't as heartless as you think."
"Acts nice only in public, chasing gain?"
"Raphaella, I owe Bishop Javania."
"I think your help outweighs. Who made him bishop?"
Young Gabriel escaped slums to temple orphanage thanks to Javania. Buried his brother too.
Time faded Javania's kindness, but unforgettable grace then.
Just Gabriel's view.
Raphaella downplayed it. Born duke's heir, favors routine; orphanage natural, not Holy Water gift.
Now Gabriel commanded knights, used as Javania's pawn—grace repaid manifold.
Always split on Javania, so Gabriel focused urgent instead of arguing.
Gabriel called Michel lurking near office.
"Commander."
"Michel, reason Archbishop Marik called?"
"No. But guess: the painting."
Gabriel agreed. Only reason, but odd timing—weeks since burned.
Post-Berga arrest from Daisy's convent, painting opinions flipped; all hushed as if never praised. Feared spread spawning more Bergas.
Thus Gabriel asked Evangeline as ball partner. Erase painting's hold needed greater influence.
Evangeline Rohanson. Those enthralled before burning painting normalized facing her.
Oddly, memories of her vague—only stunning beauty recalled. Only Michel remembered clearly.
Grand Temple visitors: nobles, rich merchants. Many came for rumors.
Can't check each; target social circles where they gather. Temple logs visitors' banquets—plan attend with Evangeline.
Her influence key, but weird rumors hindered. No debut, yet rampant—deliberate leak?
Max banquets, quash rumors: Gabriel escort best. His spotless rep pure; holy knight pairing dilutes her rumors.
Worried refusal, but she accepted post-explanation. Wanted act ordinary noble age—good choice.
Gabriel snapped thoughts drifting to Evangeline. Focus Michel, Marik now.
Come to think….
Gabriel eyed Michel.
Kanna spoke as sole survivor of horror; Gabriel knew another. Zealous fanatic subordinate.
"Michel."
Kanna unaware naturally. Never told Evangeline of Michel's symptoms; he restrained before her.
"Question."
"Prepare shovel?"
"Not joking. When Lady Rohanson splashed you."
"Ah. Then?"
"What'd you see?"
Michel too saw unnatural red world? Recalling, he beamed ecstatic.
"White."
White: pure white suited one being. Dreamily, Michel continued.
"World aflame, yet she alone pure white. Like ash post-burn. Yes, like Donau. Oh, know now she's above that."
Regrettably different. Sounds like flames engulfed body, vision flickering—saw Lady Rohanson then. She favors white; wore white at temple.
"Ah. And eyes. Not painted motifs—real eyes. Halo maybe?"
New info. Eyes? Gabriel's eyes?
"Why not tell?"
"They'd think me weird. Except you, Commander!"
Not weird thought—weirder post-change. Shy, quiet, calm before. Personality flipped.
Yes. Michel saw the eyes too. Gabriel forgot shelving Evangeline thoughts, questioned.
"Michel, how'd you end up worshiping Lady Rohanson after?"
"Endure, loved. She envies you."
Kanna's words echoed. Endure to be loved. Shaking intrusive lady-thoughts, Michel spoke entranced.
"Not important actually."
"What?"
"She just saved me? I revere for that."
Not blind thrall as thought—secular, convincing.
Like Kanna. Saved from Donau kidnapping. Daisy too, initially hostile.
'Then me?'
Gabriel missed salvation. Dream-Evangeline help won't revive dead child; reality unchanged.
Why can't accept her?
Worrying brief; Gabriel shook thoughts. Tsunami coming someday—face beast now.
Heading Marik's quarters, aides greeted.
"Sir Gabriel. Archbishop awaits. Enter."
"Called Sir Michel?"
Gabriel frowned slightly; priest averted eyes. Priest stammered no excuse; another man quipped.
"Misunderstanding? Called Michel for post-incident thanks. Our duty, not hers."
Michel sensed oddity, eyed Gabriel. Great subordinate per Raphaella—dragging boss down.
"Haha. Post-incident thanks routine—you know, Commander."
"Yes."
Scared priest now bold, chiming.
Month since Nofedi painting burned. Per priest, serious cases get month-later thanks. Gabriel's date-sense dulled—missed Marik's intent.
Marik used Michel as bait.
Delayed her call with excuses; lured with honey trap. No reason given—knew Gabriel wouldn't accompany for routine thanks.
Such ploy dodges blame summoning without cause.
"Join till Michel's done? Chat with Archbishop?"
"Late—can't impose."
"Impose? My favor. Don't you want talk too?"
Gabriel refused; new voice. Marik emerged from door commotion. Veiled as always.
"No time for tea chat? Drink before bed always. Relieves fatigue for sound sleep. Busy Commander looks sleepy—tea'll help."
Soft coercion. Aides envied sharing tea with her. Gabriel relented to persistence.
"Thanks for favor. Accumulated fatigue lately."
Eye-nodded Michel farewell. Explained external limits before—won't forget.
Raphaella called him brain-dead; Gabriel saw mere faith-shift Rahel to Evangeline. Recent chat: coldly rational. No harm to her. Trustworthy there.
"Modest, but enter."
Gabriel entered office.
As said, spartan for revered archbishop. Javania's modest but ornate; Marik's barren—like convent.
Ex-nun habit. Sat; Marik brewed, poured.
"First alone chat with Commander."
Refilled own, sat opposite.
Marik lifted veil slightly to sip. Exposed lower face scarred melted.
"Unsightly?"
"No."
"No platitudes. I hide too—dread own face."
Marik's veiled burn-scar famed in temple. Rare public meals.
Didn't expect inclusion. Gabriel sipped following. Lukewarm, not hot.
"What to discuss?"
"Ease with people."
Gabriel urged; Marik scolded patience. Drank fully, recovered veil, to point.
"Congrats, Commander."
"Me?"
"Haha. No guess? Much talk you're Lady Rohanson's debutante partner."
"Yes."
Wondered reason—Evangeline info? Gabriel nodded. Rumors spread securing crown prince invite.
"Debut at twenty…."
"Lady Rohanson frail; now recovered, better late than never."
"Caring for your beloved? Makes sense. Only you for Lady Rohanson."
Praised Gabriel's diligence? Actually mocking her isolation.
"No mother, no kin. No noble ties, cut maternal family?"
Famous rumor. Even father Count avoids home; fueled her scandals.
"Didn't expect Archbishop heeds gossip."
"Blind, ears sharp."
Gabriel composedly eyed Marik. Veiled eyes unreadable.
"So Marchioness Toten chaperones?"
Only parties knew. Leak source?
Dolliné silenced; Rohanson staff tight. Distrust Javania pawn? Extra surveillance? Or loose Toten side.
"But issue. Post-visit, Marchioness seclusion—no temple, ignores you."
How much known? Gabriel-Toten deal? Why flaunt?
"Me chaperone?"
Gabriel froze. Marik sat rigidly. No tells—impossible guess.
"Lady Rohanson pitiable."
Marik's voice kindly.
"Don't you shun society? Can't impose."
"Mutual. Crown prince's banquet—temple greets future glory? Invited, attending."
Future glory. All know emperor clings throne hating heir. Marik's lies masterful.
"Not Toten, I'll chaperone."
Gabriel imagined eyes flashing under veil.
