Crowds of people swarmed in and around Saint Medela Clinic, all chattering noisily.

“They say that woman’s child died yesterday after taking the medicine prescribed here.”

“Oh no. My child also took medicine from here yesterday.”

“We should have known better the moment the priestesses claimed they could treat illnesses. Who knows how many more might die?”

As the people’s voices grew louder, Cordelia slowly approached the grieving woman.

The woman had collapsed onto the floor, weeping and crying out her child’s name.

‘Shartiel, you call yourself a Saintess? Do you think I would ever believe that?’

Cordelia did not believe Shartiel’s claim of receiving divine revelation.

Perhaps others who had studied astrology and astronomy also secretly doubted that Shartiel had done her calculations in proper elliptical orbits.

Still, they all kept silent, not wanting to make enemies with the academy’s headmaster.

“My, you must be so heartbroken. But to say such things, doubting the Saintess and the priestesses…”

Cordelia met the woman’s gaze with a gentle smile, all the while turning her eyes toward Shartiel.

Shartiel was holding the trembling Bibi close, trying to comfort her.

“No, it isn’t true. The medicine I prescribed was only a simple remedy for anemia. There’s no way it could cause that.”

Bibi’s tearful voice trembled as she spoke from Shartiel’s embrace, but her words were drowned out when the woman once again cried her child’s name.

“So, these inexperienced priestesses claimed to heal and ended up k*lling an innocent child.”

While the grieving woman paused to catch her breath, Cordelia muttered as if to herself.

Several people around them nodded vigorously, trying to draw agreement from others. At that moment, Shartiel stepped forward to stand before Cordelia.

“Lady Cordelia, words must always be carried with responsibility.”

Even in such a chaotic, bewildering incident, Shartiel did not lose her composure. Cordelia suppressed her irritation and rose to her feet.

“Address me as Young Countess. And yes, actions also come with responsibility. A child has died from medicine made at this free clinic. Surely you must bear that responsibility, Saintess.”

Cordelia cast a fleeting glance at Carleon’s party, who were merely observing the matter, and felt reassured.

After all, this was not some trivial affair but a death. Even Carleon could not blindly defend Shartiel in this situation.

“It is unjust! I will take this medicine myself and vomit blood, so that the truth will be revealed!”

Just as Carleon took a step closer to Shartiel, the woman pulled out the remaining pills from the packet.

“Ahhh!”

Startled, the woman let out a scream when Shartiel swiftly twisted her wrist and snatched the medicine away.

Clearly, she had never imagined that the delicate-looking Shartiel would have such strength.

Ignoring the woman’s shrill cries, Shartiel carefully inspected the folded packet she had seized.

‘It’s folded exactly the way Bibi does. It hasn’t been tampered with.’

Bibi always drew a butterfly doodle so children might feel a little happier when taking their medicine.

That little butterfly mark was still there.

“I will take this medicine myself.”

“Saintess! No! That medicine should be taken by me!”

When Shartiel signaled with her eyes, the Saint Knights pinned the woman by her shoulders so she could not move.

“Shartiel.”

Carleon strode forward and grasped Shartiel’s wrist just as she began opening the packet.

His deeply furrowed brows showed clearly how reckless he thought her action was.

Bibi, who had always worn a fresh, bright smile, now sobbed uncontrollably and shook her head violently.

“Saintess, no… Please don’t take it… Shartiel…”

Her trembling voice wavered even more than the hands that had been shaking with outrage moments ago.

Even the dignified High Priestess shook her head, saying there was no need to go so far.

The other priestesses, their faces filled with worry each time their eyes met Shartiel’s, also shook their heads. And at the sight of this, Shartiel almost laughed inwardly at the irony of the situation.

‘The very people who once acted far more recklessly than I did, now telling me I’m being reckless?’

These were the people who had joined her in an outrageous plan to become Saintess.

Who had dared deceive the emperor, and even dared sell the name of the gods alongside her.

And now they dared to call her reckless?

“I trust Priestess Bibi.”

Shartiel brushed away Carleon’s hand from her wrist and swallowed the medicine in one gulp.

She trusted Bibi.

She trusted the priestesses who had believed her words and willingly joined in her reckless plan.

“Ahhhhh!”

The medicine packet slipped from Shartiel’s hand, hitting the floor just as a red liquid spread across her white dress. The crowd screamed.

“The Saintess took the medicine, but it’s that woman coughing up blood?”

“Exactly. And the bleeding already stopped. How could she possibly die from that?”

The very same people who had looked upon the woman with pity now sneered coldly.

The woman who had claimed her child died covered her mouth tightly with both hands as blood gushed out.

Her eyes darted around desperately as if seeking someone to help her, but the crowd only stepped back further, widening the distance.

“Saintess, I will fetch you another dress immediately. There’s a spare one in the carriage.”

Shartiel calmly looked down at the blood staining her dress.

Instead, it was Erica, flustered and frantic, who dashed off to the carriage to bring a replacement dress.

“Commander, get the woman on her feet.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Shaking with fear under Carleon’s chilling aura, the woman barely managed to stand with the support of the Saint Knights.

“Bring the child’s body here. We’ll perform an autopsy to uncover the truth.”

Carleon’s eyes glinted with k*lling intent as he glanced at the blood staining Shartiel’s dress.

Shartiel, who normally detested having anyone’s blood on her, looked even more furious because the dress she wore today was the same color as the one from that stormy day.

“T-the child has already been cremated.”

“You mean the child was cremated immediately after dying from the medicine yesterday?”

“Y-yes, that’s right. Poor folk always do it that way.”

The woman stammered incoherently, her eyes darting wildly under the crushing pressure of Carleon’s aura.

“Rashid.”

“I will confirm it immediately, Your Highness.”

When Carleon slightly turned his head toward Rashid, Rashid left the infirmary with several knights who had followed him.

Cordelia gazed at Shartiel’s back as she went to change clothes with Erica, who had brought her dress.

‘Shartiel actually took the medicine!’

Cordelia bit the soft flesh inside her mouth.

That woman had, in fact, been one arranged by Cordelia’s maid, Dora.

She had been practicing quack medicine on the poor, and with the free infirmary depriving her of livelihood, she had held much resentment.

In preparation for someone possibly checking the prescription paper, she had taken another drug that made her spit blood—but that had instead backfired.

A short while later, Shartiel returned after changing into her dress.

“Are you all right?”

Carleon, erasing the icy aura he had just been exuding, strode quickly toward her.

“I am fine. It wasn’t even I who coughed up blood. I am only sorry to have shown you such an unpleasant incident.”

“Sorry, you say?”

Even after witnessing her roughly twisting the wrist of a common woman, Carleon still treated Shartiel as though she were a crystal doll.

Irritated, Cordelia sharply turned her head away.

‘That seat is mine! I am the Young Countess Nion!’

Seeing how Carleon acted so tenderly toward Shartiel, the other ladies who had accompanied him stared in astonishment—making Cordelia grind her teeth even harder.

She had stolen everything from Shartiel.

‘Then why! Why is everyone still looking at Shartiel and not me!’

Cordelia straightened her back, trying not to lose her elegance.

She refrained from even swallowing her saliva for fear that the veins of fury in her neck might bulge, and calmly let her gaze wander around—until her eyes met Shartiel’s.

‘Cordelia seems to be in a very foul mood.’

Shartiel slowly approached her.

‘It is suspicious that the maid who was always stuck to Cordelia’s side isn’t here today.’

So that was why the woman earlier had been glancing around—it must have been to look for that maid.

‘She never thought I would actually take the medicine.’

Standing right beside Cordelia, Shartiel only turned her head slightly and gave her a faint smile.

Bibi had said it was merely an anemia remedy.

With only the most basic medicines available, there hadn’t even been any strong drugs with dangerous side effects brought in yet.

‘It isn’t as though there are so many medicines that make one vomit blood immediately upon taking them.’

Seeing Cordelia’s jaw twitch ever so slightly at her composed smile, Shartiel shifted her gaze to the other nobles.

“There was a brief disturbance, but I shall continue guiding you through the rest.”

Under the High Priestess’s direction, Shartiel calmly finished the tour of the Saint Medela Clinic, which had quickly regained order.

***

The tour ended only after an hour had passed.

When the other ladies each departed in their carriages, Melissa, who had remained, approached Shartiel.

“Saintess, you were quite impressive today.”

“I hope that what impressed you was not the unfortunate incident, but rather the medical service offered by Saint Medela Clinic.”

Shartiel replied warmly to Melissa, whose black eyes gleamed like a cat that had discovered a new toy.

‘The only daughter of a house that commands the northern army. A candidate to be Carleon’s wife. Cordelia’s rival-to-be.’

Making an enemy of Melissa would be of no benefit, neither to Carleon nor to herself.

“I will come visit you again later, Saintess. Next time, I shall bring my acquaintances with me. They are all very curious about you.”

“Anyone you bring, my lady, will be most welcome.”

‘Curious about me?’

Though doubtful of Melissa’s words, Shartiel nonetheless bid her farewell with a flawless smile.

The moment Melissa’s carriage departed, Carleon slipped an arm around Shartiel’s shoulder.

“Will you return to the palace?”

The only ones left now were Carleon’s closest aides and Cordelia.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Shartiel glanced at the hand resting on her shoulder, and was about to brush it off—until she noticed Cordelia secretly peeking at them, and so she let it be.

“Then ride with me.”

“On horseback?”

“Ahem, no. I brought a carriage.”

“You never ride in a carriage, though?”

Shartiel looked at Carleon with surprise.

Just then, a carriage arrived before them—so lavishly adorned with gold it was blinding to the eyes.

Normally, neither Shartiel nor Carleon would ever set foot in such an excessively ornate carriage.

It even bore the emblem of a dragon.

“Get in.”

Carleon personally opened the carriage door and extended a hand toward Shartiel.

Secret escort knights had once demonstrated that this was how one was supposed to assist a lady into a carriage.

‘Again! Again with those curt words!’

Shartiel shot Carleon a glare.

“Then please take me all the way to the Purple Palace, where my chambers are, Your Highness.”

She deliberately spoke loud enough for Cordelia, who was stiff with fury, to hear clearly—then stepped into the carriage.

***

Carleon sat facing Shartiel.

Then, from a box placed on the carriage seat, he drew out a single pink rose.

“Take it.”

He stretched out his arm and casually thrust it toward her.