The scenery of the front yard was monotonous.

The grass had dried up harshly, and the low-trimmed shrubs had lost their green color.

Far from adding vitality, they made the gray castle appear even more desolate.

Though the cold wind pleasantly cleared the stuffiness in her lungs, it offered little visual enjoyment.

Still, this time was precious beyond measure because she could breathe the fresh air.

It was also fun to feel the grass crunching beneath her feet.

She was smiling as she watched the tips of her shoes peeking out from under her dress and then disappearing back in, when:

“Is that the one who’s marrying the young master?”

“Be quiet. Let’s go quickly, I’ll tell you inside.”

Maids carrying wooden tubs of laundry under their arms whispered to each other.

Lucilia slightly moved her eyes sideways to observe their expressions.

The maids jumped in shock, their bodies flinching.

One of them even dropped her wooden tub to the ground.

Her heart felt heavy, thinking that the incident of reading Bessie’s thoughts must have spread quickly, creating fear.

If she had met the Baron first, she wouldn’t have pressured Bessie.

The image of the Baron lying in his sickbed making his earnest request overlapped in her mind. Despite his severe illness and struggle, he had not hesitated to speak frankly for the sake of his family.

‘It’s too open here, I’ll keep catching people’s attention.’

Though she hadn’t harmed anyone, rumors of a witch sighting would circulate and eventually reach the Baron’s ears.

She could clearly imagine how the story would be exaggerated with each retelling.

It seemed better to leave, but her room felt suffocating, and she wasn’t inclined to hide away immediately.

“That’s right. She said I could go to the greenhouse, didn’t she?”

Her previously gloomy face brightened.

Lucilia turned westward, seeking a place to hide.

Just as Karen had said, there was indeed a glass greenhouse on the western side of the building.

While she was half-entranced by the structure beautiful enough to make her jaw drop, someone approached and greeted her.

“It’s… my first time meeting you.”

Seeing a planting trowel in the man’s hand, he appeared to be a gardener.

Lucilia considered turning back but decided to speak to him.

“Am I perhaps interfering with your work?”

“Ah, no! Of course, I should be the one to make way for you.”

The gardener waved his hand while still holding the trowel, then quickly put it down when he realized what he was doing.

Clearly flustered at encountering the protagonist of such ominous rumors, he rambled incoherently.

“You seem to be heading to the greenhouse.”

“I thought I’d take a look…”

“I see. I heard the late Baroness loved flowers very much. They say the Baron put tremendous effort into building this greenhouse in her memory. Well, that was before my time. I didn’t see it myself, just heard about it. Yes.”

After his disorganized introduction, the gardener opened the greenhouse door for her and then made way.

Indeed, the interior was as magnificent as its impressive exterior. Various trees and flowers filling her field of vision seemed to have transplanted spring itself.

Imagining the mistress’s soul lingering with memories made her somewhat afraid to step inside.

A saint afraid of such a thing?

Anyone who heard would point fingers, saying she had become cowardly since she was no longer a saint.

Lucilia first peeked her face through the open gap.

The fragrant scent of grass moistened her nostrils first. Inhaling the aroma made her constricted heart feel much more at ease.

The bleakness of the outside scenery wasn’t felt at all here.

Lucilia pushed her body the rest of the way in, her eyes shining with curiosity.

The greenhouse was impressively large, enough to make her eyes widen.

Having bought their title by paying a price, they probably couldn’t have dreamed of building such a luxurious greenhouse.

They wouldn’t have had the luxury to accumulate wealth.

However, as if to rebuke her hasty judgment, the evidence of lavish investment was clear.

The autumn sunlight penetrated the transparent glass, sending down warmth.

After taking about twenty steps, she removed one outer garment, pushed by the warmth enveloping her entire body. With the cloak draped over her arm, a gentle smile bloomed fully on Lucilia’s face.

“Wow! There are so many flowers here!”

With no one around to be mindful of, her voice naturally rose brightly.

Lucilia headed toward the flower bed, excited like a rabbit frolicking on a hill.

The sight of colorful chrysanthemums blooming in clusters was extremely pretty.

She remembered the chrysanthemums she had once offered at Saint Benica’s grave.

When she had carefully selected the most beautiful flower to offer, she had received an oracle from Apera, the “Goddess of Enlightenment.”

“Back then, everyone called me a blessed being. The saint among saints who could read God’s mind… It feels like a distant past now.”

Benica was Caldman’s first saint.

For a hundred years after Benica, no new saint had emerged.

This was because those who wielded transcendental abilities were considered heretics by the Papal Office and executed.

Only those confirmed as God’s people through proper procedures were appointed as saints.

That’s why Lucilia’s emergence was enough to cause a sensation throughout the Kingdom of Caldman.

People must have hoped that the journey of the second saint in history would last long, but it had faded away so futilely.

If she had the ability to predict the future, she wouldn’t have set foot near Saint Benica’s grave in the first place.

The time when she was filled with happiness, like this place overflowing with chrysanthemums, felt like a distant dream.

Lucilia crouched down and gazed at the garden infused with spring’s mood for a long time.

After being immersed in memories, she rose with a groan and began to walk again.

From somewhere, a faint sound of water could be heard.

The refreshing tone wrapping around her earlobes naturally opened her heart.

“There must be a pond.”

She ran toward the sound of water, beating her stiff legs with her small fist.

Indeed, there was an artificially created pond in the center of the greenhouse.

Flat aquatic plants floated on the water, and small fish swam beneath.

As Cannia flowers swayed on the gentle waves, she suddenly felt an impulse to touch them with her hand.

Memories of boating by the river at the royal palace bubbled up hazily.

Intending to feel vicarious satisfaction by the pond, she stood on the stone placed like a fence at the edge.

“Oh, I can’t reach it.”

She lowered her body and stretched her hand as far as she could, but fell short by a couple of spans and couldn’t touch the flower.

The Cannia flower, seemingly within reach yet not quite, melted her heart with anticipation.

It seemed she could touch it if she got just a little closer.

She firmly grasped her flowing skirt and moved to another stone.

Just as she placed her foot on the stone, trying to get closer to the water:

“Ah!”

The stone that had seemed firmly embedded suddenly wobbled, causing her to lose balance and fall backward.

For a brief moment, the thought crossed her mind that she might crash down and hit the back of her head. But in that short gap, there was nothing she could do.

Fear and resignation instinctively rushed in simultaneously.

As she was about to let her vision flip over in dismay:

A rough force suddenly grabbed her arm, and before she could realize it, her body floated upward.

“Kyaa!”

Her feet seemed to touch the ground, but then her body dragged across the dirt like a slave being pulled by a running horse.

“If you want to waste the life I saved, do it outside of Tudra.”

She didn’t care about her dress getting dirty; her mind was solely focused on wondering where Aaron had appeared from.

His condemning voice was as merciless as thunder, making it impossible to deny his presence.

It seems he also thought she would die falling backward.

Anyway, though she didn’t die thanks to his help, she was puzzled why someone who should be at the temple was here.

Lucilia, roughly set upright by Aaron, twisted her wrist.

Aaron then let go of her hand abruptly, as if dusting off his hands.

After staggering from the recoil and just as she regained her balance, frost descended.

“Did you not hear my father’s words?”

“…I did.”

“And yet such a person acts without caution?”

“That’s why—”

‘That’s why I’m here like this, not going to the temple because everyone dislikes me!’

Lucilia held back her rising irritation and paused for a beat.

Aaron’s demeanor was so fierce that she couldn’t bring herself to continue her protest stuck in her throat.

As she tried to swallow it down, a question with a different tone from before was heard.

“Didn’t you say walking was uncomfortable for you?”

“Ah…”

She wasn’t sure if it was criticism or concern, but she decided not to misinterpret.

Since she had told Karen that her body hadn’t fully recovered, in Aaron’s eyes, she must have appeared to be dragging her ailing leg around stubbornly.

Lucilia slightly twisted her body away from Aaron, who was staring at her legs, and timidly retorted.

“This much distance is manageable. The head maid said it was fine to walk in the front yard and greenhouse.”

“Whatever the reason, people judge based on results. Isn’t that why your previous reputation became a bubble in an instant?”

“Are you saying I shouldn’t even leave my bedroom?”

She had tried to be patient to the limit, but her anger boiled over as he found fault with everything she did.

“I’m trying too. So if you could just understand a little— Eek!”

Before she could finish her sentence, a massive shadow fell over her.

Aaron had lifted her into his arms in one swift motion.