The first thought that crossed Vienny’s mind upon seeing the High Priest was the color white.

It was a pure, pristine white, even more immaculate than the frost that sometimes forms at dawn – and it evoked a sense of awe. It was the whitest white she had ever seen, and she found herself staring at it for a moment, lost in wonder.

Then, jolted back to reality by the harsh shouts of the priests, she lowered her gaze. Above her, she heard a soft laugh—a clear, gentle, and soothing voice.

Vienny began to understand why the Kaeronians were so in love of the High Priest. With his snow-white hair, he looked almost like an angel descended from heaven.

He appeared to be no more than in his twenties, perhaps early thirties at most, and his beauty was so otherworldly that it was almost overwhelming. The brief laughter she heard echoed like a melody, as if played by a musical instrument. With such looks and a voice like his, there would be no one who wouldn’t bow their head in his presence.

Someone pressed down on the back of Vienny’s head, forcing her to bow even lower. Her awkwardly bent head struck the hard stone floor, causing her forehead to thud painfully, but the pressure didn’t let up. She bit her lips to stifle a groan.

“I have heard that the Great Witch has been striving for six months to atone for her past sins. The Divine embraces all who repent with mercy, so do not harass her like this,” said the High Priest.

“But, Your Excellency, the Great Witch is a devil who betrays her kind without hesitation to save herself! We must remain vigilant at all times!” protested a priest named Brown.

“Oh dear, Brother Brown. Your piety is well noted; now calm yourself,” the High Priest replied with a smile, leaving Brown speechless.

“I want to see the face of a noble penitent who will help us in our purification efforts to save her kind. Let her raise her head.”

At the High Priest’s words, the pressure on her head eased. Instead, a rough hand gripped her hair and pulled her head up.

When she looked up again, the High Priest remained as white and beautiful as ever. His blue eyes sparkled like a clear lake, and his lips, curving into a gentle smile, radiated warmth.

When the High Priest saw Vienny’s face, he let out a soft sigh. Even the slight furrow of his brow made the surrounding priests uneasy, unsure of how to react.

When the High Priest, who had been seated, stood up, several people moved to assist him. However, he gestured for them to stop and gracefully stepped forward toward Vienny on his own.

Kneeling with her head forcibly lifted, Vienny watched the High Priest approach her, her body stiff. Before anyone could react, he knelt in front of her, carefully reaching out to touch her forehead.

A cool hand rubbed against her skin, and the pressure caused a stinging sensation. It was only then that Vienny realized her forehead had been slightly cut, likely from being forcibly pushed down earlier.

Despite the shocked gasps from the surrounding priests, the High Priest wiped away the blood on her forehead without hesitation, using his bare hand. Seeing her own blood on his pale, slender fingers sent a wave of tension through Vienny.

The High Priest was the one who had permitted Pepin to experiment on her.

Vienny had never forgotten that, not even for a moment.

“Please step back. It’s dangerous.”

A cold voice cut through the air like a splash of icy water. McClart, who had been standing with his hands clasped behind his back, silently watching the High Priest’s actions, had intervened.

Brown, the priest, bristled at McClart’s tone, finding it rather impertinent, and pointed out his rudeness. But he agreed with the warning of danger, and tried to gently persuade the High Priest with flattery.

The High Priest smiled at their reactions, slowly rising from his kneeling position.

“Though she was once seduced by the devil, she is now one who strives to follow the will of the divine. How can she be purely dangerous?”

“The devil is deceitful and will use any form or opportunity to tempt people. It is only natural to be cautious.”

The High Priest laughed softly at McClart’s words.

“It reassures me to see you follow the Divine’s will so faithfully.”

Despite the High Priest’s praise, McClart’s expression remained unchanged. Instead, it was the other priests nearby who seemed moved, whispering excitedly among themselves at the exchange.

Vienny found the almost blind devotion of the priests somewhat amusing, but she was fascinated by how McClart stood out among them – a blemish in the midst of purity.

It was clear to her that McClartt did not really follow the High Priest, and it was obvious how his behaviour affected the others. Perhaps part of the reason the priests disliked McClart so much was because of his attitude.

Of course, McClart himself seemed completely indifferent to the opinions of those around him.

“If you’ve seen enough, I’ll take her away now.”

“Is the inquisitor personally overseeing the Great Witch’s safety?” the High Priest asked.

“She’s dangerous.”

“I heard you’ve put her in an unusual place.”

McClart’s expression turned cold, and Vienny noticed how Brown’s face twisted in satisfaction upon seeing it. Lowering her gaze, she realized that, as she expected, her confinement in McClart’s private chamber had become quite a topic of interest for those outside.

It was likely those self-satisfied priests who had mentioned her situation to the High Priest. Would he order her to be sent back to the cell?

Vienny doubted it. The High Priest’s interest in her seemed greater than necessary—a curiosity that went beyond practicality. She bit her lip tightly.

“I do not doubt your judgment, but I believe it would be best if I personally examined the Great Witch,” the High Priest said.

“What do you mean by ‘examine’?” McClart asked coldly.

“I mean, I’d like to speak with her privately.”

It was the priests who gasped in shock at that statement. Clearly, they had expected the High Priest to order the filthy witch back to the cell. Brown and his followers seemed frozen in disbelief. McClart gave them a faint, mocking smile before answering curtly.

“I will be present.”

“I have no intention of making this troublesome. Simply waiting outside will suffice,” the High Priest replied.

“As I said, it is dangerous,” McClart responded.

“Then explain to me exactly what is so dangerous,” the High Priest said calmly.

McClart’s gentle reply faltered. The High Priest was still smiling softly, his calm eyes seeming to suggest that he already knew exactly what McClart was thinking.

When McClart’s silence dragged on, the High Priest let out his distinctive clear laugh, gesturing for the soldiers holding Vienny to lift her up. Forced to her feet, Vienny stumbled slightly, trying to steady herself as her breath caught in anxiety.

“Prepare some food in my chamber. Does her frail appearance not inspire pity? To treat someone who leads the effort to cleanse Tempe like this – surely even the Divine would sigh in sorrow.”

Someone quickly bowed in response, acknowledging the High Priest’s orders.

“Have her forehead treated as well.”

“Right away, Your Excellency.”

Pepin, who had been standing among the crowd, stepped forward to respond. Vienny swallowed nervously, glancing around. McClart remained expressionless, his tightly pressed lips showing no sign of opening.

The High Priest had made his intentions clear and there was nothing McClart could say to change them. He stood in silence and looked at Vienny. Catching his gaze, Vienny jumped and quickly looked away.

Was it just her imagination? McClart’s gaze seemed unusually fixed on her, almost relentless.

“Well then, shall we proceed with what I’ve asked?”

The High Priest dismissed everyone from the room. Vienny, dragged out by the soldiers, glanced back over her shoulder.

The High Priest, smiling brightly, was watching her intently.

* * *

The lavish feast laid out on the table made Vienny feel nauseous rather than whetting her appetite.

Under the pressure of the High Priest’s benevolent yet watchful eyes, she reluctantly picked up her utensils, but none of the food tempted her to take a bite.

After some hesitation, Vienny dipped her spoon into the stew in front of her. As she stirred it, the ladle lifted a generous portion of vegetables and meat. Even before being captured, she had never eaten a stew this rich. The stew alone felt more than extravagant.

“Don’t tell me you lack the strength to even lift a spoon?”

At the High Priest’s question, Vienny spooned a bit of the broth and brought it to her lips. The warm, rich broth, flavored with meat, tasted good—but it still failed to stir her appetite.

“It seems my presence makes it difficult for you to eat comfortably. Have them serve you separately later.”

The relief of not having to force herself to eat made Vienny exhale softly. She carefully set the spoon down, placing her hands awkwardly in her lap.

The High Priest called someone to remove the entire meal from the table. Within moments, the lavish feast was gone, leaving Vienny seated across from the High Priest, alone in the room. He seemed completely at ease being alone with a witch, leaning back casually against the sofa.

With his hand resting on the armrest and his eyes fixed on her with a curious expression, he suddenly sat up. Vienny, already on edge, flinched at the unexpected movement.

The High Priest glanced at Vienny, who was tense and rigid, then calmly walked over to a shelf on one side of the room. It seemed he had already instructed someone to bring it, as there were elegant glasses and a bottle of wine on the shelf. He filled a glass with practiced ease.

“Take this.”

“…What?”

A strong smell of alcohol wafted toward her from the glass he offered. Vienny looked at it uncertainly. The glass, delicately crafted, seemed as though it might shatter at the slightest touch, and the red wine inside swirled gently.