Chapter 7
Early in the morning, Dorothy came to her room.
“Didn’t you say there’s no Saint Ellen?”
“Yes. She even pushed me away, telling me to leave, which made me suspicious. So I even took a few days off and volunteered at the temple. Ugh, I ended up doing an enormous amount of dishwashing…”
“So? What happened?”
“The trainee priest said… well, apparently Saint Ellen ran away after locking eyes with a man. And recently, she was found dead under a stone bridge in the slums.”
For a moment, a ringing sound seemed to whirl through Ellen’s mind.
“That’s a lie… you’re lying again.”
“It’s true. Even the temple is hush-hush about it because they don’t want the scandal of a saint to spread…”
“No. That can’t be.”
Dorothy insisted it wasn’t a lie, but Ellen sent her away. She didn’t want to hear any more.
“No. Absolutely not.”
Her repeated muttering gradually disappeared without a trace.
With her mind completely blank, Ellen stared into the empty air for hours.
A maid, who had somehow entered her room, roughly set down breakfast in front of her.
“Eat.”
“I’m not hungry. Take it away.”
“The Duke insisted you must eat.”
The maid glanced over her body and snickered. Then, as if to show off, she raised her chin proudly and fed her the soup with just the tip of the spoon. Well, “poured” would be a more accurate description.
“Hurry and eat.”
“Ugh!”
“Why are you spilling it like that? Do you want a bib?”
Glancing down at the soup that had spilled onto her pajamas, Ellen answered in a resigned voice:
“Yes, since it’s gross, go ahead.”
“You’re really troublesome.”
The maid snorted in displeasure and continued shoveling spoonfuls before it even reached her mouth.
Even though Ricio had scolded her over the bath incident, this was excessive. After all, Anais was a noblewoman, the Duchess.
‘There must be a mastermind behind this.’
Her eyes lazily shifted toward the maid. The maid, meeting her gaze, let out a snicker.
“Isn’t it time to stop eating? You’re not moving, and if you keep eating, you’ll just gain weight.”
What she had eaten was only soup, and she had spilled over half onto her pajamas.
Before she could respond, the maid yanked away the pillow supporting her.
She ended up hitting her head on the headboard.
‘If there’s a mastermind, what can I do now?’
No, why should I even do anything? My body to return to my own is gone—does it even matter that the back of my head aches?
The thought of having to live in this body was something she hadn’t anticipated, and darkness settled over her vision.
Seeing her neck bent, the maid only hummed a tune.
She even poked at Ellen’s legs.
In truth, Ellen could only guess what the maid was doing based on the body’s movements. She didn’t have the strength to care.
“Really, you feel nothing?”
“Yes.”
“Even now?”
“Yes.”
Ellen suspected the maid might be harming her, but it didn’t matter. After all, it didn’t hurt.
‘Ha… I don’t know what to do.’
Ellen closed her trembling eyes like a spasm.
“Are you sleeping again, lazy girl?” the maid’s sharp voice called, but it didn’t reach her in her confusion.
Other maids entered and bathed her, changing her clothes.
Not as blatant as the morning maid, but the treatment was the same—she was regarded as a piece of luggage.
No, not luggage—she was a doll. Dazed, she seemed like a lifeless doll, with vacant eyes staring at nothing.
By evening, Ricio came to her room.
“How was your day?”
Perhaps because she didn’t answer, Ricio stopped unbuttoning his sleeve halfway and sat beside her.
“Are you unwell?”
His large hand rested on her forehead. She wasn’t running a fever, so his hand felt warm.
“Just… tired.”
She closed her eyes, avoiding him.
“What’s this?”
His voice sounded ominous, and she opened her eyes again.
He pulled back the sheet and examined her body thoroughly.
“What are you doing!”
Her face reddened as she shouted, and Ricio lifted her calf, holding her leg.
Several bruises were visible on her leg. Clearly the maid’s doing.
“How would I know? I can’t feel anything.”
It didn’t matter if the body was injured or torn.
‘Anais, you’re in my body…’
Damn it! Ellen bit her lip and closed her eyes again. But as her body was lifted, she had to open them once more.
“How far are you going to look?”
“Everything.”
She frowned sharply at his hands scanning her body.
“Stop it!”
“Since you don’t know, I have to.”
“I told you to stop!”
“You know who did this, and you’re lying to me. I need to know what’s happening.”
“Enough! You’re no different, Duke!”
Ricio’s hands froze. His expression, stiff and blaming, made her feel wronged.
“I told you several times not to touch me, yet you’re doing it!”
“I…”
Perhaps it was just venting. She wanted to scream until her throat tore.
She wanted to cry hard. But crying would be admitting she had to live in this body forever, so she clenched her teeth and held it in.
Her pain was like swallowing fire. She couldn’t endure it without saying anything.
“Don’t pretend to care out of sympathy. I’ll find a way to leave this hell, no matter what.”
“You mustn’t speak of hell or leaving, Anais.”
His voice, heavy and low, sounded ominous.
No, he probably just didn’t want to hear her whining nonsense.
She was angry at a strict figure, someone who had tried to help her, without realizing he didn’t know she was possessed. She felt ashamed of herself.
“You wouldn’t understand anyway, Duke. Just leave me alone.”
Ellen turned her head, avoiding him.
Was he angry? The sounds of Ricio leaving and the door closing followed.
Now everyone in the Duke’s household hated her.
‘This is the worst.’
She stared at the ceiling without moving. Her eyes were red, but she didn’t shed tears.
As the sunset light poured through the window, the room turned red, and Ricio returned.
Ellen pretended to be asleep.
Hearing a heavy object being set down, she peeked and saw a large glass jar filled with candy on the desk.
‘I’m not a child. Why bring this…’
It only made her feel more guilty.
Her chest ached as Ricio slowly brushed her hair back.
She couldn’t even open her eyes, and whispered in a small voice:
“I’m sorry for being angry.”
Perhaps he was giving her mana. She felt his warmth around her hands as her senses returned.
“It’s okay.”
His low voice stirred a faint glimmer of holy power within her.
Honestly, she wasn’t sure if it was holy power or something else. She had no idea.
After that, the two remained silent. Not that they needed to speak—they already understood each other’s hearts without words.
After breakfast, Ricio said:
“Starting tomorrow, the High Priest will come personally to heal you.”
“The High Priest?”
If there had been anyone in the temple who could heal her, she would have asked for them long ago.
‘Not in the Holy Kingdom, maybe, but in the Empire? No.’
The High Priest? Just a money-minded merchant. They often fasted and denied food, yet filled Ricio’s table lavishly. Meanwhile, priests and saints imposed strict, frugal lives in the name of faith.
‘No wonder I’ve never had candy.’
Candy wasn’t even expensive. She had only ever had it once in the slums.
The High Priest must have been drawn by Ricio’s overwhelming wealth. Ellen’s eyes sparkled hungrily at the sight of the candy.
“No. Cancel it. It’s just a waste of money.”
“I don’t care how much it costs. You just focus on recovering.”
Ricio must have known it was pointless—he could have done other things with the money.
Suddenly, a thought struck her. Why hadn’t she thought of this before? There was someone trustworthy!
“Then, call Paladin Rohan.”
Urgency laced her voice
