“I’m fairly certain I mentioned that I’d be borrowing a few servants from House Lester.”

“…”

“So, are you going to just stand there in the doorway?”

She asked again, her smile warm and inviting.

Looking at his clever fiancée, he easily guessed her true intentions in inviting Liana here.

“Liana. Wait outside.”

Shed ordered coldly. Behind him, Giselle smiled again.

“Why don’t you get some more tea and cake? We haven’t prepared anything to welcome Lord Lester.”

“Giselle Marlhein.”

“Please, take a seat, Lord Lester.”

The air in the small office felt thick and suffocating.

Liana wondered how she was supposed to act amidst the tense atmosphere.

“I’ll prepare some refreshments, Deputy High Priestess.”

She said softly, bowing before turning to leave. As she stepped out of the office, she could feel Shed’s sharp gaze burning into her back. It felt like she was fleeing from it as she left, taking a moment to steady her emotions.

A cool breeze brushed her cheek as she walked along the corridor connected to the courtyard. With one side under construction, there were no traces of holiness here—no statues of angels, no paintings of angels spearing demons. Only rough, plain stones underfoot.

Between the cracks in those stones, a lone, scruffy dandelion had taken root.

That was what she was—Liana thought.

She might signal the arrival of spring for a moment, but she was a mere passing distraction, destined to bloom and wither quickly.

She was unable to decorate a garden, was often mistaken for a weed and was stepped on without a second thought.

Swallowing a bitter smile, she walked around the dandelion and went to the kitchen, where she boiled some water and measured out some sugar.

She plated up the lemon meringue tart that the maids had prepared earlier.

When she returned to the corridor with the expensive tea and tart, her gaze was once again drawn to the dandelion.

She paused in front of it for a moment before moving on.

The worn-down heel of her old shoe crushed the dandelion as she walked by.

That was the nature of dandelions. No matter how often you notice them, they’re just something you can trample underfoot and forget.

The crushed dandelion wore a calm face as it knocked softly, then opened the door.

As Liana entered, Shed’s brow furrowed—as if he’d hoped she wouldn’t return.

Unfazed by his gaze, Liana placed the refreshments on the table.

She poured the tea with practiced ease, filling both cups, then stepped quietly back to stand at a respectful distance.

“You’ve trained her well, haven’t you? Her tea-making skills are excellent…”

Giselle remarked as she took a sip.

“Was it you who personally requested her, Deputy High Priestess?”

“Yes. Of all the maids in House Lester, she stood out immediately.”

“She stood out?”

“With such a pretty face, she’s bound to catch the eye.”

Giselle said with a smile. Shed’s face turned frosty.

“Did you expect the Deputy High Priestess to make such compliments?”

“I’d say it’s simply an objective assessment, wouldn’t you agree? Don’t you think so, Lord Lester?”

Her golden gaze flicked briefly to Liana before returning to Shed.

Shed did not touch the refreshments. His voice was low and tense.

“…It seems you and the maid have grown rather close.”

“She’s proven to be a very pleasant conversational partner.”

Giselle’s smile widened as she took in the look of displeasure on his face. Her fiancé held his head higher than usual, his lips set in a stubborn line. This made him seem all the more imposing, but Giselle knew what it really meant.

That rigid posture was her way of showing that she was on edge.

“Does a deputy high priestess truly need a maid like her for conversation?”

Giselle had plenty of maids. Even if not, she was always surrounded by people of her own station who could be her equal in conversation. So why, of all people, did she choose Liana?

“The temple is open to all. If you wish to understand the world God intended, you must speak with people from every walk of life.”

Shed watched his fiancée’s calm expression.

‘You must be more bothered by Liana than I thought. To see the proud and lofty Deputy High Priestess go to such lengths—setting the stage and beating around the bush, just to probe for answers. That’s not like Giselle Marlhein at all.’

“So why have you called me here today? Are you planning to lecture me on the ‘truth of the world’ that you discovered through the maid?”

“Of course not.”

Giselle arched her brow with a little smile at Shed’s pointed remark.

“With the temple renovations nearly complete, I thought it might be fitting to hold a festival for the reopening.”

“A festival?”

“It just so happens the Holy Feast Day is coming up.”

Giselle said, handing him a proposal for the festival.

Shed regarded her with a stony expression.

“Do you really think Faradel is in any condition to host a festival, Deputy High Priestess?”

While heretics still lurked outside, the process of settling people in was in full swing inside. The sudden influx had overwhelmed them, leaving them with the tasks of building houses, finding jobs, and establishing systems to control disputes and maintain order.

A festival, under these circumstances?

“The barrier is complete and Faradel’s internal security is stable. I don’t see why it can’t be done.”

“Holding a festival when things aren’t yet stable will only cause more chaos, Deputy High Priestess.”

She countered. He thought Giselle’s idea was naive. If she had really walked these streets, she would never have suggested something as frivolous as a festival.

When the duke rejected her proposal outright, Giselle glanced towards Liana, who stood quietly at a distance.

“And what do you think?”

Liana’s head snapped up at the unexpected question.

“This isn’t a matter for a maid’s opinion.”

Shed cut in sharply, slicing through Giselle’s question.

But Giselle only picked up her teacup, unbothered.

“When making decisions for the domain, it’s important to listen to the thoughts of its people as well.”

She took a small sip of tea, golden eyes peering at Liana over the rim as if urging her to answer.

“How could I possibly presume to speak on matters above my station?”

The wise maid bowed her head deeply.

Giselle set down her fork, as if bored by the back-and-forth.

“I told you, it’s important to hear from those below us, too.”

Her gaze made it clear she wouldn’t be satisfied until Liana spoke.

Finally, Liana glanced quickly at Shed for approval, then cautiously opened her mouth.

“It may be presumptuous of someone as lowly as myself, but I don’t believe a festival is simply an excuse for extravagance or indulgence.”

As Liana echoed Giselle’s point, Shed’s gaze snapped toward her.

“Events like festivals are a welcome rain for parched hearts.”

Liana continued, “They weren’t just excuses to party — they brought communities together and helped unite scattered people.”

Perhaps, she thought, a festival might be just what was needed to bring the wary and competitive newcomers together; they had only just arrived in this place.

“And the temple is the one place people are longing for most right now.”

Many had come to Faradel for the barrier’s protection, so their gratitude and hope for the temple were immense. To them, it was a place of true significance.

“So on the day we celebrate the reopening of the temple—the Holy Feast Day—I only hope that God’s mercy and blessings will overflow.”

It wasn’t about drinking, feasting, tossing petals, setting off fireworks or holding lavish balls. Rather, it was about cleaning the streets and decorating them with flowers, sharing what was needed, giving thanks for divine grace, praying for peace and showing warmth and care for one another.

Just as the saints had once done, the temple became a place where charity was given to the poor and a helping hand was offered to the suffering.

In other words, the Holy Feast Day would be a chance to purify and uplift a still-chaotic Faradel.

Giselle smiled at Liana’s words.

“Isn’t she admirable, Lord Lester? When even a maid thinks so deeply about the domain, how can we possibly fall short?”

She smiled triumphantly, as if to say the maid was wiser than the duke.

Shed looked at Liana with eyes as cold as ice.

Liana met his gaze without flinching.

Of course, she understood there was truth in Shed’s position. As a pragmatic lord, his judgment was likely more reasonable. But sometimes, people needed a way to escape reality, even just for a moment.

The two of them refused to look away, locked in a silent tug-of-war.

Watching their tangled gazes hang in the air, Giselle’s eyes narrowed slightly.

And then—

Thud.

The fork Giselle had been lifting slipped from her fingers, and the lemon meringue tart on her plate tumbled to the floor.

“Oh, dear.”

She frowned slightly as she looked down at the tart that had splattered onto her white shoe. The meringue had been crushed and the lemon filling had smeared across the gleaming leather.

Raising her lashes, Giselle looked up at Liana. Her golden eyes were gentle as she glanced at her maid, then pointedly at the fallen tart.

She didn’t say a word, but her meaning was clear — clearer than any order.

It was a maid’s role, and Liana Serpens was exactly the kind of clever servant Giselle could trust to act without being told.

Liana took out the handkerchief she always carried, moved toward Giselle, and knelt to lower herself.

At that, a flicker of agitation passed through the duke’s eyes.

Liana quietly wiped the tart from Giselle’s shoe, cleaning it with calm, practiced motions.

There had been a time when she would have found the thought of Shed seeing her on her knees cleaning someone’s shoes unbearably humiliating.

But now, having been seen at her lowest point, she felt nothing at all.

Her hand grew dirty as Giselle’s shoes became clean, and she found this to be as natural as the order of the world itself.

And then—

“Stand up. Liana.”

That cold voice pierced her ear.

When she looked up, she saw that Shed was glaring at her with clenched jaw.

She saw the sunlight reflected in her eyes. It was a beautiful light, yet there was a hint of sorrow beneath its radiance, as if tears were lurking just below the surface.

“…I still have plenty of things to regret.”

Her quiet voice drifted into him, soft but piercing as a blade.

“So I wish you’d let this go now.”

🌺⟡───⟡🌺 🌺⟡───⟡🌺

Eclace closed his dry eyes, then scrubbed his face with both hands to shake off his fatigue. The books he’d read through the night were piled up beside his desk. Not only books, but scrolls, loose-leaf files—scattered messily about.

Half the stack concerned the Vitel Merchant Guild, half was related to the Ideana project, but a few of the documents were intensely personal.

Right now, he was holding a book with scrawled handwriting so messy it was almost impossible to read—a book about Lupus.

‘To think I’d find myself researching Lupus ruts…’

He couldn’t help feeling a bit ridiculous.

He wasn’t a Lupus, and he certainly wasn’t interested in embarrassing topics like ruts. For most people, the problem of Lupus ruts was something filthy, barbaric, even dangerous—nothing to do with people like him.

Most didn’t know the first thing about the subject, not even what was considered common knowledge among Lupus themselves.

But if he was going to continue doing business with Shed Lester, he had to understand Lupus and their ruts.

If nothing else, he needed to be able to anticipate—or at least manage—the unpredictable variables of his business partner.

Besides—

‘Luise Ideana. I can’t help worrying about her, too.’

He planned to take her away with him, but the timing was uncertain. If, by chance, Shed’s rut came first, things could get complicated.

Thinking this, Eclace took his lucky gold coin out of his pocket and let out a wry chuckle.

‘…Maybe I’m just making excuses.’

The truth was that he never wanted Liana to get involved with Shed over something like this again.

If he found out more about Ruts, he might be able to exploit Shed’s own nature to create more distance between him and Liana.