The knight commander tilted his head skeptically.

Could a saint marry?

“Wife…? Who are you referring to?”

“Just now, His Majesty the King has just issued a marriage permit for the daughter of Marquis Teneri.”

So those words meant that this man truly intended to take the saintess as his wife?

Until now, the king had not involved himself in the conflict between the Pope and the marquis.

Both sides wielded immense influence, so he had been cautious about revealing his intentions.

Regardless of how the rivalry between the Pope and the marquis played out, he had maintained a position of neutrality on the surface.

But this time, it meant he had sided with the marquis.

The commander, judging that deeper involvement could backfire, tightened his gauntlet. It was humiliating, but it was time to retreat.

If they captured the young lord, the king would hold them accountable, leaving no other option.

The commander raised his hand and shouted.

“Everyone, return!”

The sound of hooves pounded irregularly against the ground.

Lucilia was still surrounded by knights, gasping for breath.

She didn’t understand what was happening.

What was this about marriage and being a wife?

An absurd situation had unfolded before her, just after she had narrowly escaped death.

Even she, the person directly involved, didn’t know how to accept this news that was completely new to her.

She understood that Aaron was the savior she had been told would be at the end of the road, but the fact that he would become her husband was hardly reassuring.

As she stood there, completely dazed and unfocused, Aaron walked toward her.

“Let’s go.”

“W-where to?”

“First, we’ll go to the estate.”

“The estate…? Do you mean Isend, the marquisate?”

“No. Tudra.”

They were heading to Tudra, a small territory governed by Baron Artnal, though it was part of the marquisate.

And it was located on the outskirts.

Having achieved consecutive victories, Aaron often stayed in the capital under the king’s orders, but his residence was still Tudra.

The urgency of leaving for there immediately made her anxious.

“Does my father know?”

“It was His Excellency’s command. He demanded the loyalty that a vassal must uphold to protect his precious daughter.”

It was clearly sarcastic.

Aaron’s tone, mixed with self-derision and resentment, made his knights stiffen their expressions.

They seemed very displeased to acknowledge a witch as their master’s companion.

With nothing left to say, Lucilia glanced back at the narrow path that had just been the jaws of death.

At least she wasn’t going back there.

The relief of being alive was short-lived, as she felt ashamed that Aaron was forced into an unwanted marriage because of her.

Her father was a selfish and coercive man. Yet, because he was her father, he had approached the king to plead for his daughter’s life.

And that storm had directly struck Aaron.

“I’m truly sorry.”

Had she ever bowed her head to apologize to anyone while living as a saint?

She had always received adoration from the faithful with her noble presence.

Now, seeing her with a guilty expression, the knights exchanged glances.

They showed no signs of embarrassment. It seemed they agreed that it was only right for the one who had ensnared their master in a contract to adopt a humble demeanor.

A cool voice fell at the feet of Lucilia, who had her head bowed.

“Please get into the carriage.”

Regardless of her apologies, Aaron pointed to the carriage prepared behind him.

Would this be the last time? She felt troubled about leaving without saying goodbye to her family.

“Is it possible… for me to see my father before we go to Tudra?”

“Do you think that’s possible? After you just escaped death?”

Embarrassingly, she had thought it might be.

Thanks to the king granting her father’s request, she believed she had escaped danger.

While they couldn’t sit together and share a farewell, she thought she might at least be able to see his face, but that seemed to be a misconception.

Aaron looked at her with a pitying expression, as if she were a naive young lady.

Lucilia, who had caused trouble for so many, could only keep her mouth shut.

Frankly, she wanted to know the whole story behind what had happened today.

She didn’t even know why she had been accused of being a witch.

It was so absurd that rational thought seemed to float away. She had fled here in a daze, like someone lacking common sense.

She should have been jumping up in indignation, but her head felt stiff, preventing her from taking the next step.

For now, she would have to do as Aaron said, right?

Though she hadn’t chosen to become a saint, habits were powerful. She had to maintain her composure at all times and know how to control her emotions.

If she insisted on her way here, she would surely be scolded for actions unworthy of a saint.

As she exhaled with resignation, he urged her again.

“We have a long way to go, so please get in quickly.”

His polite command was sharper than any drawn sword.

Suddenly becoming a burden to Aaron, Lucilia felt no right to show reluctance and quietly moved toward the carriage.

Now that she looked, there was no baron’s crest on the carriage.

The situation was clearly so urgent that they had hastily obtained this vehicle…

Her face flushed with embarrassment for complaining unnecessarily.

“Depart!”

The carriage, just as cold as Aaron, moved without hesitation.

The knights turned, waving flags adorned with the birch leaf pattern, the symbol of Tudra, as they left the capital.

* * *

It would take two weeks to travel northwest from the capital to Tudra.

Riding horses would be faster, but the carriage limited the mobility of the otherwise agile knights.

Lucilia had to shoulder the burden of guilt without even having the luxury to enjoy the relief of escaping death.

Because of her alone, the entire knight order suffered, and Aaron’s entire life was wasted.

‘I need to send a letter to my father as soon as we arrive in Tudra.’

No one explained anything clearly, and her insides burned with anxiety.

The person who knew the most about this matter and had orchestrated it all was her father.

She intended to ask why the once benevolent Pope had changed his mind overnight, what grounds there were for her to be branded a witch, and whether her marriage to Aaron could be annulled.

As her thoughts organized, the pain she had been holding back surged. Her knee throbbed, and her expression twisted involuntarily.

Lucilia lifted her skirt to inspect her knee.

“Ugh… it’s torn quite badly.”

Flesh had split open where sharp stones had struck, and a significant amount of blood had flowed.

Clotted blood and dirt clung together, making a mess.

It hurt too much to touch, so she blew on it softly.

“I wish I had healing powers instead.”

What a useless divine power she had.

What kind of divine grace was it to pry into someone else’s heart?

The power granted to her as a saint had only made everyone uncomfortable.

She had become a saint after identifying those among the king’s close aides who were plotting treason.

At that time, she had rejoiced in the glory of being chosen.

She had often been intoxicated by the gazes of admiration. Each time, she had been startled by her own pride and cried in repentance.

That damned glory had collided with reality, leading to self-loathing.

No one wanted to meet the eyes of a saint.

Even those who had done no wrong shrank back in fear. Before the saint, everyone became a sinner.

The more power one held, the worse it was.

Even the king had withdrawn, which said it all.

Were those who served the divine any different?

Nuns, monks, knights, priests—none dared to show any malice for fear of revealing their wicked intentions.

Even the Pope, respected by the kingdom’s people, always covered Lucilia’s head with thick cloth to prevent any situation that might harm him.

As a result of the fear that disrupted human relationships, she had naturally become isolated.

She had only clutched at a hollow honor, and was nothing more than a solitary figure.

Though she received the utmost hospitality, she could not live like a human.

But now they wanted to kill her?

The more she mulled it over, the more her insides twisted.

“Haah, haah…”

It felt as if bitter water was flowing back up, burning her esophagus.

Lucilia, sweating coldly, clutched her stomach. She bent over, slowly inhaling and exhaling.

But no matter how she regulated her breathing, there was no sign of improvement.

Feeling like she might vomit inside the carriage, she opened the window connected to the driver’s seat.

“Please stop the carriage for a moment.”

“What’s the matter?”

The knight holding the reins asked curtly.

It seemed he was annoyed that they were already moving slowly and now she wanted to waste even more time.

“If it’s not urgent, it would be better to stick to the schedule.”

“I’m feeling unwell. I’ll speak directly to the young lord myself, so could we stop for a moment?”

She could no longer sit still, feeling nauseous.

Lucilia barely raised her pale face to look directly at the knight.

After swallowing a sigh, the knight placed two fingers between his lips and signaled. Then another knight nearby, hearing the situation, turned his horse and moved ahead.

Before long, the speed slowed.

Just as she was about to catch her breath, the carriage door suddenly swung open.

“Go ahead. Say what you wanted to say to me.”