Chapter 119….
Embers
“When this is over, I plan to return to the estate. So next time, Saint, come visit us.”
Bella waved lightly in farewell, then grabbed Ridel’s arm as he stood there dazed and pulled him out of the room.
Soon after, Hael—who would be accompanying them as the temple’s representative—placed a hand over his chest and bowed to the Pope. When he removed his hood, the knightly uniform he had concealed beneath came into view.
“That suits you much better, Hael.”
“I will protect Bella and return safely.”
“Good.”
After the exchange, Hael quickly followed after Bella. By then, Bella and Ridel could already be seen some distance down the corridor.
“When did you become so close to His Holiness, anyway?”
“Well… it feels like it’s been that way almost from the beginning.”
At Ridel’s question, Bella tilted her head and replied nonchalantly.
“More importantly, are you really planning to enter the palace disguised as the Saintess?”
“Yes. In any case, only the Saintess can lift the curse, and the last thing I can do for Chey is to show him his ideals.”
As Hael listened to their conversation, he drifted closer and gently lifted the hem of Bella’s long, trailing dress. Ridel’s gaze briefly landed on Hael—then slid away.
“Can’t this be done outside the palace? The atmosphere right now is ominous. Even if you don’t move, it feels like the royal family will collapse on its own.”
“What choice do I have? It’s not like we can send the real Saintess.”
“Why not?”
“Because only she would be able to lift Chey’s curse.”
Bella smiled faintly and climbed into the carriage. Hael, now accustomed to her ways, followed without questioning her words and boarded after her.
Amid this series of natural movements, the only one left concealing his confusion was Ridel.
Perhaps it was because, more than Hael, Ridel knew Bella better.
The fact that Bella had prepared Ryan’s grave at the Frelload estate, and the way she moved without regard for danger for the sake of Chey’s ideals—
It felt like the instant just before a flame went out, when it flares up all at once in a brief flash.
“Bella.”
“Yes, Ridel? Hurry back and keep an eye on the estate. And protect the Saintess, too. Of course, if you’re busy, you don’t have to go. Sean will do fine.”
“Bella.”
“……”
At being called again, Bella’s expression stiffened. She had read the anxiety in Ridel’s voice.
And as expected of someone who had spent his life in trade, Ridel was adept at reading others’ thoughts.
“Come back. You’re the only one who can lift the Duke’s curse.”
“……That’s right. As long as Chey’s wish is to have the curse lifted, I’ll make sure that wish comes true.”
“That’s a relief.”
Only then did Ridel close the carriage door with a face full of relief and send Bella off.
He must have thought this:
That because Chey was precious to Bella, as long as Chey did not disappear, Bella would never do anything reckless.
But there was one thing Ridel didn’t know.
Bella felt that her usefulness to Chey was nearing its end.
In a way, the reason she had stubbornly held on to the conditions for lifting the curse and dragged things out until now might have been a sliver of fear—fear of becoming someone completely useless to him.
“Hael. Take this.”
“What is this?”
As the carriage drew close to the royal palace, Bella handed Hael a small note.
Hael, with his guileless expression, accepted it and was about to unfold it, but Bella’s hand stopped him.
“Don’t open it now. If I can’t make it out of the palace… deliver this to the Saintess.”
“What… do you mean by that?”
Hael’s face hardened. It wasn’t difficult for him to guess what the note contained.
Most likely, the conditions for lifting the curse.
And then her intention in giving it to him was clear. This mission was one where Bella could truly meet a terrible end—and Bella herself knew it.
“Please. You’re the only one I think would listen honestly.”
With a bitter look, Bella pulled the veil she had lifted back down over her face, as if trying to hide all her emotions and turmoil.
“Open the gates!”
At the guard’s shout, the gates opened, and the carriage finally entered the lion’s den.
The entrance was dark enough that even Hael swallowed his dry saliva in tension.
In an empty room, the curtains swayed softly.
Creak—
With an unpleasant metallic sound, the doorknob turned again and again, only to return to its original position.
It looked as though someone were trying to open the door.
“What was that?”
Hearing the rattle of the knob, Sean stiffened and stared intently at it.
But the doorknob lay still, as if it had never moved.
“That’s strange.”
Sean tilted his head and resumed his watch—when a faint click sounded. Startled, he shifted back into a guarded stance and turned again.
Once more, the doorknob was unnervingly quiet.
Feeling foolish, Sean rubbed the chilled nape of his neck and forced an awkward smile.
“Am I just too tense?”
He had reinforced the watch at the window as well. If an intruder had come in through there and tried to open the door, the outside would have been in an uproar already. Besides, a doorknob couldn’t move on its own.
Just as he was about to turn away, convinced he’d misheard—
Creeeak, creak, creeeak—
The doorknob turned slowly, the skin-crawling metallic sound ringing in his ears.
As Sean stared at the knob turning by itself, it paused again for a moment—
Clunk, clunk!
“Gah—!”
Startled by the violent rattling, Sean staggered backward and placed a hand on the hilt of his sword.
“Cheyre!”
At that very moment, the Saintess—who had been watching for any chance to check on Chey’s condition—shoved Sean aside and twisted the doorknob hard.
A gust of wind rushed in, finally revealing the room.
It was silent and empty, with only a few sheets of paper fluttering about the floor.
“There’s no one here, so how in the world… Could it be a ghost?”
Sean scanned the room as he asked, but no answer came.
“Do you see something?”
“Yes.”
The Saintess’s gaze was fixed on a single point. At her reply, Sean narrowed his eyes and looked around again, but he still saw nothing.
Standing still as she stared toward the window, the Saintess slowly took a step forward.
She could see it—an extremely faint, blurry soul, so insubstantial that even the slightest approach would scatter it like smoke.
“How did you manage to take form again? There shouldn’t have been anything left for you to recover your strength.”
“Bella. Where is Bella?”
The smoke-like form wavered, and a fragile sound escaped it, like the whisper of the wind.
To expend such a weakened soul just to ask that. The Saintess let out a cold, incredulous laugh and shook her head.
“She stepped out for a bit. It’ll probably take a few days.”
“Why?”
“I haven’t known Bella for very long, but she’s gone to do something that only she can do. For you, Cheyre.”
“I miss Bella….”
As if echoing Chey’s emotions, the form distorted again, like a mirage.
Something was wrong. This wasn’t how he spoke, nor was it his voice. He was not someone who laid his emotions bare.
Confusion spread across the Saintess’s face.
“Cheyre? Wait—your condition… Do you remember who I am?”
“Why did she leave this estate? As long as she’s inside, she’s safe.”
“Cheyre! Pull yourself together!”
The murmurs, close to soliloquy, were directed toward Bella. The voice laid bare an obsessive longing.
The Saintess’s face twisted.
Yet Chey continued, swaying lightly like a truly weeping ghost, pouring out his feelings in a whispering voice like the wind.
“Then I have to wait for you again. I have to wait endlessly… for someone who might never come back.”
The clump of soul drifted and lingered by the window.
At the spot where he had always waited for Bella—where the carriage was most visible when it arrived.
The Saintess’s eyes trembled. To have lost all power, had no contact with the living, and still formed himself to this extent on his own—
“Don’t tell me, Cheyre. You gave everything you had to nothing more than an ordinary woman?”
She asked in a voice filled with disbelief.
It wasn’t really a question. There was only one possible answer—this was certainty.
“Bella. Bella Oschick.”
Still pitiful, the soul wept and called only one name, as though it knew nothing else.
When the Saintess reached out her hand, the soul scattered with a soft paff.
“You truly gave your soul to Bella. No wonder my binding failed.”
“Bella….”
What Chey had handed over to Bella by giving her his name was his very soul itself.
A soul that already had an owner would not move at anyone else’s command—so naturally, the Saintess’s necromancy could not work.
“Cheyre. You already knew everything, didn’t you?”
That her plan would fail.
