Fairy Tale: With Sin Of Pride

Halfway through their walk, Cinderella began sharing bits and pieces of her past, her words laced with subtle hints.

She talked about how stingy her stepmother was, and how cruel her stepsisters had been. Day after day, they loaded her with endless chores, while never even sparing her a decent dress to wear.

Though she didn't outright call her stepmother and stepsisters "vicious," the implication was clear. She painted herself as a resilient sunflower, blooming against adversity, a symbol of optimism in a world that seemed dead set on dragging her down.

Now, if Rhodes had been some chivalrous knight or righteous prince, he might already be feeling a strong distaste for Cinderella's stepmother.

Once a bad impression takes root, it's like a mountain in the mind, immovable. The truth could scream in someone's face, but once they've cast someone in a bad light, all virtues start to look like deception.

And Cinderella? Over the years, she'd built up a sweet, strong image for herself—a character who only added weight to the image of her "wicked" stepmother and stepsisters.

"A remarkable performance," thought Rhodes as he looked at Cinderella. With her gentle, strong demeanor, she really looked like an angel of perseverance.

"If this girl lived in the 21st century," he mused, "she'd make a killing as an actress."

But he'd seen her true colors—the "innocent" woman who could make anything sound angelic while, in reality, she was pure "green tea." The type who'd say, "Oh, big brother, big sister, you're not mad, are you?" but with all the innocence of a snake.

Good thing his Commandments weren't always active. Otherwise, he'd have shown her a few harsh truths about reality right here and now.

Cinderella grew frustrated as she noticed Rhodes' silence. She'd been acting her heart out, and he just sat there, unbothered. When they finally reached the main hall, Cinderella quickly stopped.

"Master Mage, please wait here," she said, lifting her skirt delicately as she trotted off inside.

"Cinderella, is everything arranged?" Mrs. Termani, seated at the table, asked as she dabbed her mouth with a napkin.

"Yes, the arrangements are made. But... there's someone who wishes to thank you personally," Cinderella murmured softly, her gaze lowered.

"Tell him there's no need. He should just leave early tomorrow," Termani replied with a sigh. Meeting a man so late at night wasn't fitting, especially since her household lacked a male head. Even if her daughters were around, the etiquette of high society frowned upon such things. Besides, he was just a commoner.

Cinderella's eyes gleamed for a brief moment. If her stepmother refused to meet the mage, that left her with a better chance to get close to him herself.

Even if that meant offering herself for some late-night "company."

After all, her mother had always taught her how to approach different types of men. The young, brash, and straightforward types? You keep them at arm's length, then reel them in slowly, making them think every little thing is a "privilege." But Rhodes? He was clearly a different breed.

When subtle seduction failed, there was always the direct route.

And with her looks and charm, she'd never met a man who could resist. No one could compete with her allure. Once he got a taste, he'd be ensnared, addicted, completely wrapped around her finger.

It wasn't just her beauty—it was a special talent, an ability passed down in her family. Anyone who shared an intimate connection with her would find themselves deeply, irrationally obsessed, slowly turning into a puppet of desire, bound to her.

That's how her gambler father had managed to win over Mrs. Termani. A well-kept family secret.

And her ambitions? They went far beyond mere survival. She was aiming for something much grander, planning to climb her way out of this pit and become the empire's brightest pearl.

Baron? Viscount? Earl?

No.

She intended to use this mage as her stepping stone, climbing until she stood at the pinnacle of society, as the empire's mistress.

The flame of ambition blazed in her heart. She hid it well, keeping her head down, pretending to be harmless—a gentle, kind girl, the kind no one would ever suspect.

"Even if he's a commoner, don't be rude," Mrs. Termani reminded her.

Though their family had once held noble status, that was ancient history. They were barely above commoners now, and an attitude too haughty would only earn them scorn.

That is, unless they were dealing with other nobles. Nobles and commoners lived worlds apart, after all. Nobles could house commoners in a barn and still receive thanks.

"No need for all that trouble," a calm voice interrupted. A figure strolled into the hall.

"What's the point of giving thanks if it's not face-to-face?"

Hearing his voice, Mrs. Termani frowned. This was quite rude—entering without permission. "These commoners really lack manners," she thought.

But then, Rhodes stepped into view, his attire and aura practically glowing with a noble radiance. Anyone with half a brain would know he was either rich, powerful, or both.

She glanced sharply at Cinderella. This was the "commoner" she spoke of?

"A pleasure to meet you," Rhodes said with a soft smile, settling gracefully into a seat beside Mrs. Termani. "I am Rhodes, heir to the Kingdom of Francis and a humble legendary mage."

With one leg crossed over the other, he leaned back, radiating an effortless, unapproachable arrogance, even as he smiled.

A legendary mage?

Mrs. Termani was momentarily speechless. Had his words not been so laced with gravity, she would have dismissed him as an arrogant guest.

Yet "legendary" was no small term. In common circles, that word meant a being of immense, nearly untouchable power.

A true legendary mage was the peak of power in their world.

To say this was akin to His Majesty the Emperor suddenly knocking on one's door asking for a bed for the night. It was almost unbelievable.

But then Rhodes drew out a silver-white badge, and Mrs. Termani's doubt evaporated. This noble's badge, carefully crafted from silver and blessed by the Holy Church's pope himself, was impossible to forge. Any follower of the God of Glory would feel the sacred energy within it.

It was an earl's badge—a symbol of true nobility. The heir to a noble house would have such a badge, denoting them as the future successor.

"Thank you for allowing me a place to stay. Here, a small token of my gratitude." Rhodes tossed a heavy bag onto the table, the golden coins inside gleaming as they spilled out.

The room fell silent, all eyes fixed on the pile of gold. For a fallen noble family like theirs, this bag alone was more than all their assets combined.

Mrs. Termani's face paled. She couldn't even look directly at the gold coins.

This man wasn't just a noble. He was a true powerhouse—a legendary mage.

"N-no, Lord Rhodes, please, you jest!" Mrs. Termani stammered, the urge to bow almost overpowering her. Just moments ago, she'd told her stepdaughter to prepare a side room for this guest.

Such an insult, and yet, he was a legendary mage! A single misstep with him, and no one would even bat an eye if they were wiped from existence.

A legend was not to be disrespected, let alone a legendary mage with noble rights.

All the upper-class manners she'd ever learned vanished in the face of this overwhelming status. The only thing keeping her from outright kneeling was her last shred of pride.

"How could I place someone of your status in a side room? I'll have the main suite prepared immediately!"

Turning, she whispered urgently to her daughters, "Anastasia, Tricia—prepare the best room, quickly!"

The two hurried upstairs, nerves frayed.

"Relax, I'm not a monster," Rhodes said, flicking a gold coin in his hand as he looked at Cinderella, who stood trembling.

"What's wrong? You look terrified. Something you'd like to share?"

Cinderella's face paled, but she managed to keep her composure. "It's just... I was surprised by Lord Rhodes' identity."

"Oh? Is that all?"

Rhodes leaned forward, his gaze piercing, making her feel completely exposed, as if he could see right through her pretense.

After a moment, he chuckled softly. "You'll get used to it."

Then he turned to Mrs. Termani. "I'm tired. Please, show me to my room. And don't forget to take care of my servants. Some of them... don't handle offense very well."

He smirked. "Especially one in particular—a legendary mage named Yulia. If she's provoked, and this manor ends up... incinerated, well, I won't be compensating you."

Mrs. Termani's eyes widened, nearly dropping to her knees in terror.

Another legendary mage? And... as a servant?

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