“The temple event…?”

“Sacred Flame Day.”

At his words, Tilda suddenly remembered something she had completely forgotten in the chaos of recent events.

Sacred Flame Day—the day the goddess Vallinea first gifted the world with holy fire.

The Great Temple had declared it a sacred holiday, marked each year with a great celebration.

On this day, the Temple opened its doors to royalty, nobility and commoners alike. Food was shared, blessings were offered through consecration, and the whole city joined in a communal feast.

With everyone in one place, it was also a momentous occasion – politically, socially and spiritually.

“Judging by your face, I was right. You’d forgotten.”

“You didn’t have to drag me all the way back here just to remind me.”

“We’re not exactly in a position to talk about these things in public, are we? No one knows about our relationship.

‘Our relationship.’

Calles said it with a slightly lewd smile on his lips.

He was utterly blasphemous – just his look and presence could make someone feel physically touched.

Tilda couldn’t stand it any longer. She had to come out from behind the curtains.

“If you’ve said what you had to say, I’ll go…”

Just then, Calles pulled at her hand.

With a sharp tug, Tilda’s body spun around.

She opened her mouth, ready to snap at him, but then she noticed that Calles was staring intently at her hand.

His gaze was fixed on a spot on the back of her hand, deep and penetrating.

“You’re injured.”

The scar was self-inflicted, carved into her skin in the Outer Temple on the day she made her vow to fall.
She had cut deep—on purpose—ensuring the wound would never heal cleanly. It left a lasting mark.

“I believe I mentioned that I could heal even minor injuries like this.”

“There’s no need.”

She had deliberately left a scar as a reminder of her determination. If the scar faded, she feared she’d forget what she’d sworn that day.

Besides, she could already guess what Calles might try to do under the guise of healing.

“But it doesn’t suit you, not on such a pale, delicate hand.”

And then, without warning, Calles bent down and ran his tongue over the scar.

Slk.

Tilda gasped, taken completely by surprise by the indecent gesture.

Calles chuckled, his shoulders shaking slightly.

Another vulgar tease.

Tilda jerked her hand away violently and glared at him.

“If you look at me like that, it only turns me on more.”

Tilda didn’t even have the energy to call out his vulgarity – it wasn’t worth the breath.

She brushed aside the curtain to leave first, but Calles’ voice followed her from behind.

“You were amazing today.”

“…”

“But don’t shine too brightly.”

‘What on earth did that mean?’

Without looking back, Tilda left the chapel quickly, not wanting anyone to see her there.

***

From that day on, Tilda kept busy. The Day of the Sacred Flame was approaching and there was much to prepare.

First she checked the list of attendees.

It was a big celebration and almost every noble in the realm was expected to attend. Naturally, both Aklaire and Windsor were on the list.

She had no plans to take action against them on the day itself, but it was important to confirm their attendance – to show them that she had returned and was no longer the same.

After that, she made it a point to attend every meeting in the Grand Temple, no matter how small.

Even if they seemed trivial, these gatherings were the easiest way to understand how power was distributed within the Temple, how people spoke of her, and who really held influence behind the scenes.

As far as she knew, apart from her maternal grandfather – the Pope – the three High Priests naturally held the most power within the Great Temple.

However, with neither Calles Moin nor Ross Port showing much interest in Temple politics, the most influential figure in practice was undoubtedly Glenn Godleaux.

Ever since she had pointed out Glenn Godleaux ‘s scientific errors at a recent meeting, she had noticed small cracks forming in his support base.

After all, much of his authority came from his theological knowledge.

It didn’t take long for her to learn that Glenn Godleaux, thoroughly enraged, was planning to cause serious trouble during the upcoming Sacred Flame Day celebrations.

‘Good.’

She could already see exactly what he was going to use against her, and the trap he’d set would become his own execution platform.

There was no way she could allow someone like Glenn Godleaux – someone who colluded with Aklaire – to remain in such a high position within the Grand Temple.

With this thought in her mind, Tilda glanced back at the report on her desk.

It contained information on Glenn Godleaux gathered from Calles’ network of informants.

They were all Turin – an extraordinary group of shadows.

In truth, it was rather surprising that Calles had shared such key personnel with her at all.

“If you want to know something, use my informants.”

‘He wouldn’t ask for anything in return, would he?’

Tilda could never let her guard down with Calles – not even over something small. He had a natural talent for cunning negotiation.

But instead of the usual sharp glint that could see right through someone’s soul, there was a playful gleam in his eyes now, as if he was amused by something interesting.

‘Not that I’d stop you if you wanted to offer something in return,’ his look seemed to say.

“Just one kiss – I’m sure it’s worth not only my informants, but this entire villa.”

‘Absolutely disgusting.’

Although their exchanges were often distasteful, Calles had given her permission to use his informants without further comment.

His agents picked up on the smallest things – details that others would never notice – and reported them to her.

Thanks to them, she now had plenty of arrows to aim at her prey.

‘Glenn Godleaux.’

The greedier a man, the more carelessly he leaves traces of himself – and fortunately those traces made it easier to predict his next moves.

And as Tilda continued to investigate Aklaire and Windsor, she stumbled upon something curious.

‘Viscount Douglas.’

A loathsome man – one she remembered beating his runaway wife in the street without a shred of remorse.

She would never have guessed that he was involved in Windsor and Aklaire’s affairs.

Windsor often held parties and welcomed a variety of guests to the estate, but not once had he ever introduced Viscount Douglas.

‘So he knew he was an embarrassing connection.’

Douglas was Windsor’s secret errand boy—the one who took care of the dirty work behind his business ventures.
But because they shared confidential dealings, Windsor made sure he was well compensated. That’s how Douglas managed to purchase his title of viscount.

‘It must’ve been Aklaire who introduced Douglas to Windsor.’

If that were true, then it was likely that Windsor and Aklaire had been intimately involved for quite some time.

Even after learning the truth, Tilda felt neither shocked nor hurt. She was simply sick to her stomach from the filth of their sordid affair.

After burning the informant’s report in the fireplace, Tilda called for a messenger and handed him a letter.

“Who should I deliver this to?”

Tilda glanced down at her now bare ring finger and said.
“To the Viscountess Douglas.”

***

“…Who sent this letter?”
Viscountess Alice Douglas stared at the message in surprise, then instinctively looked up at the messenger again.

“Lady Tilda Vallinea sent it.”

‘Lady Tilda Vallinea…?’

Alice still felt dazed, as if her soul hadn’t caught up with her body. But before she could ask anything more, the messenger had already passed through the front gate and disappeared.

‘Why would someone so noble send a letter to me?’

Alice harbored a special feeling toward Tilda.

It had begun two months ago, when she had left home in a fit of despair, only to be caught in the street and beaten senseless by her husband.

Just when all seemed hopeless, the High Priestess had appeared like a hero and saved her.

It was the first time they had met.

Tilda gave her a blue diamond ring.

“With the value of this ring, you could live on your own anywhere.”

Even without having it appraised, Alice knew it was real.

Given the woman’s status and reputation, there was no doubt – it was a genuine blue diamond, one of the rarest.

But Alice never sold the ring.

Instead, she hid it deep in her wardrobe.

She knew that if she sold it, she could escape to a faraway place and survive on her own – but she was too scared.

If she ran, Viscount Douglas would surely take it out on her family.

She knew exactly who was behind him. And that was why running had never really been an option.

The day she had run away had been one of the most impulsive moments of her life.

Her body was covered in bruises, every joint throbbed with pain.

And like a crushed insect twitching in desperation, she had simply run out of the house.

It hadn’t ended well, of course…

But she had met an angel that day.

If anything could be called a consolation, that was it.

Nothing had changed since then – but somehow that alone was enough to keep her going.

Just knowing that someone in this world could so easily offer a priceless diamond ring to a stranger – the very thought warmed her heart.

And now that angel had suddenly reached out to her first.

‘Tilda Vallinea.’