That evening, Aaron didn’t enter the room until bedtime.

Nothing much had changed except for a desk and chair brought into the reception room so he could handle official business. The long sofa was still in its place.

But that was all—there were no sentimental decorations for the newly married couple. The atmosphere remained clean to the point of emptiness.

Lucilia curled up at the edge of the bed so Aaron could sleep comfortably when he returned late.

“If you keep not using the bed, I should request a cot.”

It was right to voluntarily step back since she needed proper sleep to endure. If he wouldn’t allow a cot, she could sleep on the sofa in the reception room.

Promising herself she would yield this vast bed anytime, she pulled up the blanket.

Aaron’s scent wafted from the blanket pulled up to her nose. He must have wrapped it around his body and rubbed it against his bare skin.

Lucilia quietly lowered the blanket that would have touched Aaron’s face and n*ked body. Somehow it felt like he was on top of her.

Her imagination naturally drifted to when she encountered Aaron n*ked in the bathtub. For an instant, she had the illusion of winter’s charm wandering across her entire body.

“Ah really, why do I keep having such lewd thoughts?”

If she actually knew a man’s body properly, she wouldn’t say anything, but knowing nothing, she kept sinking into vague pleasure whenever she thought of Aaron.

Shame spreading to her crown, she covered her face with both hands.

“I’m so embarrassed… Stop imagining and just go to sleep.”

With a penitent heart, she made the sign of the cross and closed her eyelids. She deliberately focused on different subjects.

“Just think about the letter.”

She could only hope that the letter she had sent to Aaron through Karen would safely reach the capital.

The sound of her quietly murmured prayers filled the air.

* * *

The territory’s people showed deeper interest in their new mistress than expected. Most worried she might bring ominous energy, while some wished to see the saint in person.

What governed Aaron’s decision was, as always, the peace of his territory.

He quickly concluded what needed to be done for the land’s tranquility: meet them directly.

So this afternoon, he decided to invite merchants, farmers, and officials to the castle to hear their opinions.

They wanted to meet Lucilia.

Whether she was an ominous presence or not, whether a saint or not, they wanted to confirm her existence with their own eyes.

Aaron fell into unexpected anguish.

While he needed to show that he perceived Lucilia as a seductress, she was nonetheless his wife, so he had to guarantee her minimum safety.

After considering various ways to present Lucilia to his people, he returned to his quarters with an uneasy feeling.

Today again, he roughly calculated when Lucilia would fall asleep before going up to the second floor late.

Though he had sternly told her to stay within his sight, ironically, he was the one avoiding her.

Occasionally, he found himself swayed by Lucilia at unexpected moments.

Each time, he didn’t realize how unseemly he appeared. He was so perplexed that he didn’t know what expression to make.

It was largely due to the collision between self-loathing and temptation.

Self-loathing for harboring all sorts of base thoughts about her, and temptation urging him to assert his rights as a husband—these two forces clashed.

He kept his distance, thinking that if she were out of sight, this illusion would also disappear.

But here he was at square one again.

What instantly broke his resolute will was, pathetically, the air infused with Lucilia’s scent.

When he first entered the reception room, the scent was so faint he wasn’t sure. But as soon as he crossed the boundary connecting to the bedroom, it completely dominated his senses.

D*mn it.

Even trying not to imagine, the image of her lusciously swollen br*asts kept filling his mind.

How rich would her scent be in those plump flesh, what taste would they have if he took a bite.

What would the texture be like, how much elasticity would they have…

Enough!

“Huu…, tsk!”

Before the tightening sensation could devour his reason, he shook off his thoughts.

Perhaps he should sleep in the reception room tonight?

Without going anywhere near Lucilia, he turned to leave immediately.

Just as he was about to cross the boundary again:

“Sa-save me, please. Please…”

If he hadn’t misheard, she was clearly begging to be saved.

Who would dare infiltrate Aaron Artnal’s bedroom unless they had lost their mind, but the pitiful voice was so unusual he couldn’t ignore it.

He almost mistook it for someone threatening her with a knife to her throat.

“I really didn’t do anything wrong. Please don’t kill me.”

Even knowing it was a misperception, his body instinctively moved forward.

Aaron gripped the dagger at his waist and lowered his stance. As if his large frame had no weight, he nimbly kicked off the floor.

In an instant, he approached Lucilia’s side and checked her face first.

Naturally, she was alone, lying in bed without any trouble.

As soon as he confirmed this, self-deprecating frustration washed over him.

“You stupid bastard. What an idiot.”

Being stupid was one thing, but this woman…

“Haa… what nightmare is she having?”

“Let me see the King… please. Sob, I beg you. Sob.”

Was she dreaming of the day she was chased from the monastery?

The tear marks on her face, pale as moonlight, were clear.

She was sobbing continuously in distress.

She looked pitiful yet beautiful, like a deer caught in a trap.

If he ignored her now, would she curse him for being heartless?

When he went to rescue Lucilia from the monastery, he didn’t feel an ounce of compassion.

Far from feeling guilty, he was so angry that he couldn’t stand to look at her face.

But now, just watching her made him feel guilty.

Even though when she opened her eyes, he would have to treat her coldly as if he had never indulged in such sentiments.

Still, she was asleep now, so she wouldn’t remember anything.

Aaron awkwardly reached out and patted her trembling shoulder.

“It’s much better when your eyes are closed.”

It was good to observe her expression without worrying about their gazes meeting.

Her face, tinged with fear, was sadly contorted.

Tears that had carved paths pooled stickily as if they had nowhere to return.

He wanted to wipe her tears, but his pride wouldn’t allow it, so he refrained.

There was nothing more hypocritical than showing kindness after resolving to be cold.

Despite his brusque touch, Lucilia quickly calmed down.

He quickly withdrew his hand lest she open her eyes.

However, his feet wouldn’t step back, as if blocked by a barrier.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she breathed evenly.

No, it was more like he felt somewhat regretful.

Aaron leaned against the wall and folded his arms.

The moonlit space was very quiet. Quiet enough to hear her breathing.

She didn’t seem to be dreaming now.

Seeing her peaceful countenance suddenly reminded him of her days as a saint.

Serenity without worldly worries, composure beyond life’s hardships.

The aura surrounding Lucilia had definitely transcended the realm of ordinary people.

He already knew intuitively that she had been falsely accused. So she was still a saint…

What kind of saint is this?

“You’re just an inevitable human too. Who would call you a saint seeing you like this?”

Since her near-death experience, she hadn’t been able to hold her head high.

Being cautious had become her daily life, and guarding herself had become a habit.

She had abandoned her lofty dignity and fallen to the level of an ordinary human.

Looking at her now, it seemed that environment really does shape a person.

Mind-reading ability?

That was nothing if one simply avoided eye contact.

If the other party avoided her, she couldn’t exert her holy power in the first place, making it useless.

It wouldn’t be difficult to explain to the territory’s people that she posed no threat at all.

The headache was spreading publicly that she was a seductress to blind the Pope’s eyes.

What should he do next?

For the first time in a long while, he faced an unclear proposition.

He was usually decisive in everything and didn’t dwell on concerns. Lucilia, who had changed his trajectory of life, was a strange person the more he thought about her.

As she said, he could send her back to the capital.

But if he did, she was destined to be stoned to death on the way.

Since he had to inspect everything that passed through Lucilia’s hands, he had read the letter himself.

She asked why this calamity had befallen her overnight. She also asked what would be best to do going forward.

The letters she wrote, saying she wanted to return to her father’s home, that she missed him, fully conveyed her ignorance of the ways of the world.

She was always like that.

He had often been irritated by the innocence on her youthful face.

Like a rose blooming in a flower garden, her surroundings were always splendid.

It contrasted with him, who had desperately fought against the world’s hardships.

Now that she had fallen to the lowest place, he should feel relieved, but it was inexplicably heartbreaking.

“Believing you could go back… If that were possible, I wouldn’t have brought you here in the first place.”