He couldn’t allow access to the mansion when they were likely looking for opportunities to frame Lucilia.

By now, the priest was probably excited at the thought of freely roaming the mansion where Lucilia lived, but that wasn’t going to happen.

Feeling reassured, Rombon added cheerfully, even humming a tune:

“They might come to perform the purification as soon as tomorrow, taking advantage of our absence. That’s why I firmly instructed them to complete everything today.”

After passing through the southern gate of the castle, the main road leading to the village appeared.

Near the entrance of the main road was land owned by the baron’s family, where Aaron had ordered a temporary prayer room to be set up.

No one would know its purpose yet, but it would soon be revealed.

Not only would they be turned away at the door, but the purification ritual would be held in a public place where villagers could glimpse it as they passed by—how awkward this would be for the priest.

Aaron had calculated that this would ease the villagers’ aversion to the “witch” while ensuring Lucilia’s safety from the Pope’s schemes.

Rombon wagged his tongue with an admiring expression.

“As expected, Commander, you’re a step ahead of me!”

“Just a step? You’re simply inferior.”

“Is that so… That sounds like the same thing, but it somehow feels offensive. Why does it feel bad…”

Aaron shook his head and spurred his horse.

Behind him, the sound of hoofbeats erupted simultaneously, raising dust.

* * *

The priest adjusted the corners of his white coif covering his neck and raised the corners of his mouth.

“What does it matter if they’re husband and wife? Just looking at her would give you goosebumps—even if you wanted to roll around n*ked with her, your member wouldn’t rise due to disgust.”

He expressed his regret as if Aaron were sitting in the mirror.

A deeply insulting laugh mixed with his heavy sigh.

“Sigh… powerless people like us have no choice. No matter how many military achievements the young baron accomplishes, the fact that he’s Marquis Teneri’s dog remains unchanged.”

He cackled, imagining Aaron frowning and protesting right in front of him.

“You say that’s not true? You have no relationship with the Marquis anymore? Haha! How childish… Fine, let’s say that’s true. Can you also claim you’re not the King’s lackey?”

The priest widened his eyes at the mirror.

“Anyway, these uneducated fools make a lot of noise. Boasting without knowing they’ll pay the price for backing the wrong king!”

His triumphantly raised eyebrows settled down gently with a languid breath.

It was because Sister Bonizella’s voice was heard along with a knock.

“Father, it’s time to depart.”

“I’ll be right out.”

The priest firmly pressed the corner of his mouth, which was stained with an arrogant smile, with his index finger. Instantly, a cover woven with benevolent light was put on.

* * *

The procession from the temple stopped in front of a hastily constructed wooden building without even crossing the castle gate.

“W-what are we supposed to do here?”

Their plan to enter the mansion first to assess the internal situation and atmosphere shattered into pieces.

The priest was visibly disappointed but quickly masked it with a kind expression as soon as Sister Bonizella gave him a look.

The priest repeatedly confirmed with Hans in a solemn tone:

“Did he really order us to proceed here?”

“Why… do you ask?”

Hans tilted his head, his expression showing he didn’t understand why such a question was being asked.

He clearly seemed to be asking whether the prayer room prepared by the baron’s family looked shabby to the priest’s eyes.

And that wasn’t all—the aura of the soldiers surrounding the prayer building was quite intimidating. It seemed they would punish anyone, priest or not, who misspoke.

Unable to compose himself from the bewilderment, the priest smiled awkwardly as Sister Bonizella stepped forward to confirm on his behalf.

“We were under the impression we would be visiting the castle.”

“Is that so? From what I heard from the young master, he never said he would welcome you inside the castle. He gave direct orders on the morning he departed for Demre, so I don’t think I’m mistaken. If you need confirmation, I can urgently send someone to the young master.”

“No… that would delay the schedule, which would be inconvenient. We must have misunderstood.”

Judging by their brazen attitude, it seemed futile to argue as they wouldn’t open the south gate anyway. The priest, quickly coming to his senses, interrupted their conversation.

“Where is the young baron’s wife?”

“She has already arrived and is waiting inside.”

While they were lingering outside exchanging greetings, one of the nuns entered the prayer room.

The interior, equipped with only the necessary worship items, was not just neat but sparse.

Lucilia, who had been anxiously pacing around the cold prayer room, quickly turned around as soon as she heard movement.

The nun who possessed her father’s token had indeed appeared.

Lucilia’s expression immediately brightened.

She approached the nun with an excited expression. Once again, what caught her eye was the distinctive rosary.

“That rosary, who gave it to you?”

Anxious that people might barge in at any moment, she asked the question abruptly without preamble.

The nun, equally urgent, immediately answered what could have been an impolite question.

“His Excellency Teneri.”

“I thought so.”

As soon as she confirmed the nun’s identity, Lucilia slipped her index finger into her sleeve and pulled out a small piece of paper as if scratching it out.

Then, as she walked toward the entrance, she discreetly placed it in the nun’s hand.

Just as Sister Mannea concealed the paper, the door opened.

Lucilia naturally addressed the priest:

“We meet again. While I’m sorry for the inconvenience, I’m grateful that you’re willing to perform this purification ritual for me.”

“Not at all. It’s my duty to serve the parish under my care—how could I consider it an inconvenience?”

Sister Mannea, who had made contact with Lucilia, pretended to be preparing for the ritual by lighting candles on the altar, as if she had been doing so from the beginning.

Having officiated countless purification rituals during her time as a saint, Lucilia was familiar with the process. She knelt on the thick mat in front of the altar on her own.

Soon, the ritual began.

The priest maintained a consistently dark expression. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being deceived by the young baron.

He had wondered why permission was granted so readily, only to end up in a power struggle.

He felt like setting fire to the witch before him wouldn’t be enough to satisfy him. But imagination remained just that—he couldn’t act on it.

The soldiers surrounding the outside were formidable, and the butler was no pushover either. Above all, he couldn’t commit the foolish act of betraying the Pope’s expectations.

He decided to focus on the smooth path that would unfold in the future.

As requested by the young baron, after delivering the sermon, he drew a horizontal line on Lucilia’s forehead with ash from burned Bfuni tree fruit, a symbol of purity.

Afterward, he recited prayer texts set to melodies, seeking God’s mercy.

As the sequence progressed, Lucilia felt a sense of vitality flowing through her.

She knew this ritual was being performed because she was considered impure. However, at some point, her negative thoughts began to fade, gradually turning into anticipation.

Looking at it from another perspective, the temple was actually helping her.

By coming directly to erase the malevolent energy, they were preventing seeds of discord from sprouting.

No matter how much she proclaimed her innocence, people wouldn’t believe it until they saw proof with their own eyes.

Having a priest publicly perform the purification ritual seemed like the best mediation possible.

They would remove the risk factors from Tudra Castle’s new mistress, and this could be an opportunity for her to try something as well.

For instance, the “duties of a lord’s wife” that Aaron had mentioned before.

* * *

After the purification ritual, Lucilia found a new goal.

Being rejected like this blocked her exit path, so she had no choice but to work hard.

From that day on, Lucilia strove to become a member of the baron’s family.

Was her ambition too great from the start? Everything she attempted was rebuffed.

On the way back to the mansion, she gathered her courage and told Hans she wanted to understand the castle’s finances.

“Since I haven’t received any instructions from the young master, it’s absolutely forbidden. There’s nothing more sensitive than finances. I’m sorry, but please understand my position.”

Having no choice, she turned her attention to Karen.

She enthusiastically reaffirmed her commitment to fulfilling her duties as the mistress of the house, but…

“I’d like to see the number and list of servants assigned to each area within the castle.”

“I don’t think this is something I can decide on my own. I’m sorry, but please consider my position and wait until the young master returns. Once you receive permission, I’ll inform you anytime.”

Her happily elevated enthusiasm plummeted instantly.

The feeling of her hopeful heart soaring to the sky only to crash to the ground was quite devastating.

If she hadn’t tried to do well from the beginning, would this cloud of gloom have appeared?

She encountered Bessie on the stairs as Bessie was coming up to the second floor to change the bedding. As Bessie carelessly lifted her face, their eyes met before Lucilia could avoid it.

Bessie instinctively flinched, and in that moment of realization, lost her balance and tumbled down the stairs.

Various parts of Bessie’s body hit the stairs, making dull thuds.

“Kyaah!”