“You… do you truly mean to stand against the temple?”

“If I must.”

Luise quietly set the ink bottle aside. Never once had she drawn upon black magic for her own gain. She had always known too well how perilous it was, and so she had wielded it only when standing against Dietrich.

But for Eve’s sake, she was ready—ready, at last, to become a true villain.

For the first time, Giselle felt the cold edge of a predator emanating from Luise. Her face had always been meek, gentle—so much so that even Giselle had nearly forgotten. Yet if Luise chose now to unleash her strength, there was no one alive who could stand against her.

At that moment, Giselle understood. The outcome of the negotiations rested entirely with Luise. It was guilt alone that bound her to a path of penance and made her endure loss in silence. Giselle was still alive and had the chance to speak only because of Luise’s mercy.

Moistening her dry lips, Giselle asked,

“…So, what is it you want?”

“Bestow the Saint’s Token of Protection upon Eve.”

Luise’s answer came without a moment’s pause, as though she had long prepared it. The Saint’s Token was an indulgence engraved with holy power, granting freedom from sin in the eyes of God for an entire lifetime. Thus the church granted it only to the most exceptional souls, worthy of sainthood itself.

And yet, to give such a token to Eve?

“That’s impossible.”

Giselle shook her head. To grant a token required the pope’s sanction and the approval of the high priests. None would ever consent to bestow it upon a three-year-old child.

But Luise’s face did not flicker with the slightest trace of doubt.

“You must make it possible. Saint Giselle Marlhein.”

Her green eyes fixed squarely on the holy sigil engraved over Giselle’s heart.

“As if whining like this would—!”

“Whining? No. It’s a clean bargain, isn’t it? I’ll accept the punishment that fits my sins, and in return I’ll claim a reward befitting my merits.”

Her fingertip tapped lightly against the ink-darkened teacup, and Giselle flinched.

Yes—Luise had earned her merit. She had struck down the demon Dietrich, laid the foundation for his seal, saved countless lives, and averted the empire’s ruin. Were it not for the brand of demon burned upon her, she would have been hailed as a saint for her deeds.

“Desidera, the holy knight who sealed Mephisto, is still remembered and revered. A cathedral was built in his honor, and even in this temple stands a statue raised to him.”

In the distance stood the temple’s main sanctuary, its bell tower rising high. Luise’s gaze lingered there for a moment before drifting back slowly to Giselle.

“I’m not asking for such honors, am I?”

At that, Giselle bit her lip and sent up a silent prayer. She had no desire to entertain such a brazen threat—but Luise was not wrong. Her deeds had saved Faradel, the Empire, perhaps even this entire era and its future.

‘Did Luise Ideana always have this side to her?’

Giselle thought as she looked at the woman looking at her so steadfastly. She had believed her to be a meek, obedient young lady. But no—it was not so. Perhaps this was her true self.

A faint, thin laugh slipped from Giselle.

“Fine. If you follow the temple’s guidance, I will see that promise kept, no matter what it takes.”

Even if it meant invoking the name of House Marlhein, Giselle gave her word. She knew it was a reckless promise, yet it was also her penance for the temple’s negligence—the last shred of compassion and conscience she could still offer.

Dietrich’s research, Luise’s sacrifices, Eve’s innocence—knowing all this, yet still condemning Luise to hellfire—this was Giselle’s final act as high priestess, a desperate attempt to ease the crushing weight upon her conscience.

“But I won’t be able to inscribe Eve’s name into the Book of Saints.”

“…It’s all right.”

The Book of Saints was nothing more than a matter of honor. What she truly wished for was Eve’s absolution—her child’s safety and peace.

“When everything is ready, I’ll let you know.”

With the promise of this last inheritance for Eve, relief spread across Luise’s face. To Giselle, her reaction felt strangely unfamiliar. She seemed worried for Eve, yet at the same time, there was a sense of release—like someone who had finally completed a long, burdensome task.

🌺⟡───⟡🌺 🌺⟡───⟡🌺

“In a few days, Eclas will arrive. Say your farewells to the child—unless you intend to let your daughter see you sealed away.” 

Luise recalled the words Giselle had left behind. According to her plan, once Eclace arrived, Eve would be entrusted to him. After receiving the symbol of protection from the Pope, Luise’s sealing would begin.

She slowly closed her eyes. The end was truly drawing near—the end she had always known she would one day face.

‘I wanted to hold on, at least until Eve was grown.’

But it had come sooner than expected.

For a fleeting moment, she wished she could ask for more time. Yet she knew well the temple would never allow it. The symbol of protection would have to be enough.

With a dry gaze, Luise turned to look out the window.

She lingered for a moment before turning the latch and opening the window. A rush of air swept in through the wide gap. Perhaps because it had rained, the breeze against her cheek was all the colder, all the clearer. Leaves were falling to the ground. The chill brushing her skin felt sharper than ever today. It was the pure sensation of being alive.

“Mommy!”

The clear voice struck her chest with a resounding thud. Turning her head, she saw Eve running toward her. Luise spread her arms wide, ready to receive her. The small body flung itself into her embrace. Warmth, the soft touch, the way she fit so perfectly in her arms—everything imprinted vividly on her senses. Luise tried to carve that feeling deeper into memory. Her chest swelled, as though a hot, heavy tide were rising inside her.

“Mommy, are you better now?”

Eve looked up at her with wide, earnest eyes. Every detail of her small features filled Luise’s gaze. She stared at her daughter without even blinking.

“Yes.”

The word escaped, choked and trembling. Thankfully, Eve didn’t seem to notice. Her round cheeks, still full with baby fat, puffed up, ripening with a rosy glow. Then her small lips pressed a gentle kiss against her mother’s cheek. The soft, tender sensation lingered on her skin. Luise bit down hard on her lips as the sudden swell of emotion threatened to spill into tears.

“Mommy, what’s wrong?”

Eve frowned with worry. Luise shook her head.

“I’m just happy.”

She forced her lips into a smile, but somehow it felt incomplete. Instead of answering with a wavering voice, she pursed her lips toward Eve. Laughing, the little girl kissed her mother again. Luise savored the lingering warmth of the touch. Then she kissed her daughter’s lips, her cheeks, her forehead, and the bridge of her nose in turn. Eve burst into giggles at her mother’s playful affection.

Her daughter’s pure, untainted laughter drew a smile from Luise as well.

“I love you, Eve.”

“I love you too, Mommy!”

Eve buried her face into her mother’s shoulder, wrapping small arms tightly around her neck. Luise held her close, rubbing her back, caressing her tiny feet, and breathing in her warmth with all her heart.

Then Eve held her tighter and whispered.

“Mommy, you mustn’t die.”

Her daughter’s voice pressed down on her chest like a weight of stone. The words broke into her heart so suddenly that she nearly burst into tears.

“…Why would you say that, Eve?”

“I thought you were going to die.”

Eve mumbled in a petulant voice, recalling her mother lying sick in bed. Her arms clung to Luise as though she never wanted to let her go.

Her child’s words felt like her heart was being carved out. Not even when her father had stabbed her chest, not even when Dietrich had torn her apart—none of it had hurt as much as this. The resolve she had tried so hard to hold wavered.

‘Should we run away together, Eve?’

The thought surged from the depths of her heart and rose all the way to her throat. They would spend their lives as fugitives, hunted by terrifying people—but if she protected Eve, wouldn’t that be enough? Wouldn’t it mean she could stay by her side a little longer?

Her lips pressed tightly together, trembling.

‘Mommy doesn’t know. I don’t know what the right choice is. I don’t know which path could bring you even a little more happiness. Having already passed my misfortune onto you, could I ever be a good mother to you?’

“Don’t be sick, Mommy.”

At those words, the tears she had been holding back finally broke free, spilling beneath her lashes. She buried her face, clutching Eve tightly in her arms, biting her lips so her child would not see her cry. The tears that streamed down her cheeks fell onto the arm that held her daughter.

“Mommy’s not sick.”

Her voice shook as she answered, and the little girl nestled against her gently patted her back. Luise swallowed down the hot breath that rose within her, undone by the comfort of a child who had grown up far too soon.

She swallowed back her tears time and again, wiping her damp face with her sleeve. Time was running out. She did not want to waste any of it on weeping.

Feigning composure and praying that her reddened eyes would not give her away, she lifted her head.

“Eve, Uncle Egon is coming.”

Luise smiled brightly, baring her white teeth. At once, Eve’s face lit up with joy.

“Really? He’s coming here?”

When Luise nodded, Eve cried out in delight.

Luise took it all in with a smile: her excited voice, the way she tilted her head, her golden hair swinging with each movement, and her rosy cheeks. She took in her daughter’s small teeth peeking out when she laughed, her plump cheeks puffing up like fresh bread, her eyes sparkling with curiosity, her bright, innocent voice, and the warm fragrance rising from her soft skin.

Luise etched all these sights into her heart, committing them to memory down to the faintest downy hairs, so that she would never forget.

‘If, even in the torment of hell, I could summon the memory of that face, perhaps then I might find a breath of air.’

She thought how fortunate it was that Eve’s eyes and hair resembled hers. It was also fortunate that her daughter’s eyebrows, smile, and striking nose resembled his. Because of that, it would be easier to remember her child and summon her image to mind. Perhaps she could even imagine the girl grown up: lovely, beloved and bearing traces of them both.

Luise stroked her daughter’s cheek for no reason at all, smiling faintly.

Just then, the door opened.

Because the window stood wide, a gust of cold wind rushed in, spilling toward the doorway. Luise’s gaze followed the direction of the draft.

“Bad man Uncle!”

Eve, who had turned toward the door before Luise, spotted Shed and greeted him brightly.

But Shed, despite the child’s welcome, only clenched his jaw and fixed his gaze on Luise.

In the emotions clouding those eyes, Luise understood at once.

No doubt… he had already heard the decision handed down by the temple.