Thiendavis – For The Perfect Salvation

Chapter 5. The Reason for Becoming a Saintess

“Alright, it’s done.”

Upon hearing the astrologer’s words, young Evie opened her drowsy eyes.

She then exclaimed loudly, seeing the clear view in front of her.

“I can see so well!”

Evie felt her head lighter and shook it side to side.

Her braided hair swayed with it.

The bangs that always poked her eyes were gone, and the messy, unkempt hair was tidied up.

Amazed by this transformation, Evie tried hard to look at the ends of her hair.

The astrologer, observing her amusement, laughed and then, as if remembering something, pulled out an item from his pocket.

“Oh, and there’s this too.”

It was a blue ribbon.

It seemed like something nice even at a glance, and Evie’s eyes widened with curiosity.

Meanwhile, the astrologer used it to decorate Evie’s hair.

Once the ribbon was tied in her hair, Evie touched it awkwardly, muttering.

“This doesn’t suit me.”

“It looks pretty to me.”

“What’s the use? It’ll be snatched away soon anyway. The bad guys around here take anything valuable for themselves!”

Evie retorted roughly to the compliment, then decisively removed the ribbon from her hair.

Yet, she continued to fiddle with it, not returning it to the astrologer, as if reluctant to part with it.

The blue ribbon had a pleasant texture and a beautiful color.

However, as soon as it touched Evie’s hands, it quickly became dirty.

Startled by how it got dirty, Evie dropped it and nonchalantly remarked.

“Things like this are for the kids who live in Thienda. Those nobles who don’t have dirt on their hands.”

While Evie spoke, the astrologer simply chuckled, causing Evie to feel reassured.

She then lay on the astrologer’s lap.

From there, with the hood pulled deeply over the astrologer’s head, she could see both his chin and the base of Thienda that blocked the sky above.

Evie smiled brightly at the sight of her favorite things in one view and picked up the ribbon that had landed on her knee.

“Still, I’ll keep this. I’m going to Thienda someday, and I’ll use it there. By then, it’ll definitely suit me!”

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Eight years passed since she declared that, and it had been three days since Zion Laurel, the count, visited Evie’s residence.

Those three days were the time during which Evie had confined herself, using repentance as an excuse, and during which rumors had spread throughout this expansive yet compact Thienda.

“Okay then.”

Carrying a box into the study, Evie dumped it directly onto the silver tray on the desk.

The box scattered sheets of paper everywhere.

These palm-sized papers contained the daily concise reports from anonymous allies working all over Thienda.

Evie regularly collected and checked these notes to gauge her reputation.

‘Let’s see…’

Although it was a weekly routine, Evie opened the notes with a more tense expression this time.

Just as expected, the stories about Evie entering this week mostly revolved around the banquet held at Laurel Palace.

―It was a surprise to see Evie Ariate stand up like that, truly unexpected.
―Strong opinions that someone without manners should not be chosen as a saintess.
―Compliments on Evie Ariate’s courage to stand up to a grand noble.
―Curious speculations about why Count Laurel even looked at Evie Ariate.

“… It’s not as bad as I thought?”

Opening the notes with nervous anticipation, Evie blinked at the surprisingly moderate reactions.

As she expected, the nobles gathered in groups were eager for tales about Evie and the count.

Nevertheless, the consensus that Evie Ariate needed to be stoned for challenging a grand noble wasn’t present among the populace.

Although there were a few negative stories, they were similar to the usual level.

The more Evie checked the notes, the more certain she felt that her tenaciously elevated status hadn’t crumbled with just one scandal.

Instead, everyone seemed curious, wondering ‘Why did the usually graceful Evie Ariate act that way?’

‘Phew, that’s a relief, really…’

Realizing this, Evie heaved a huge sigh of relief.

She had no idea how uneasy she felt over the past three days because of this.

Every night, she dreamt of returning to the depth of despair, and she kept waking up.

But the nobility’s feedback was surprisingly lukewarm, which greatly relieved Evie.

Momentarily freed from her worries, Evie lit a candle to burn the notes she had reviewed and then looked through the remaining ones.

―Some jokes suggesting it was Evie Ariate’s retort to Grand Duke Laurel. The fool.
―Many opinions suggesting Count Laurel also dislikes Evie Ariate.
―Runners of curiosity about Laurel being unexpectedly quiet about such a serious issue.

Evie propped her chin on her hand as she read through the notes written repeatedly mentioning Laurel.

‘Come to think of it, why is Grand Duke Laurel still so quiet? Normally, he should be blinded with rage and demanding that I be locked away.’

To be honest, Evie thought she might be confined to the tower for the chaos she caused at the banquet.

Getting shut up in a tower was the most severe punishment that Thienda’s high nobility could sentence Evie to receive.

If Evie’s past had repeated itself where another commoner, laboring as a servant or merchant in Thienda, had insulted Count Laurel as she did, they would probably be imprisoned, exiled, or, at worst, executed.

But Evie was different.

Evie belonged to the Manyanya Tower, and she could only be disciplined by the Tower Lord, which even Grand Duke Laurel couldn’t directly intervene with.

Therefore, by now, the Grand Duke should be making a stir with the Tower Lord, but there’s a strange silence on that end too.

‘Could it be that the Count is mediating?’

Pondering it, she recalled the proposal Zion Laurel made three days ago.

―So, I plan to look after you from now on, as best as I can.

―But there is a condition. Abandon the idea of becoming a Saintess..

Surprisingly, the Count uttered those words, and Evie had to ponder day and night whether the cup offered by the Count was a celebratory drink or a poisoned chalice.

If those words were sincere, perhaps the Count had intervened to prevent her punishment.

Of course, even if it was deceit, it could still be the case.

It was possible that the Grand Duke and the Count were in cahoots, trying to assuredly convince her with sweet words to prevent a mere commoner from daring to aim for the saintess’s seat.

All sorts of speculations and doubts flitted through her mind, but Evie quickly shook them off and reiterated the conclusion she had reached earlier.

‘Whether it’s sincere or a trap, it doesn’t matter, because I’m going to decline it anyway.’

Evie had already decided to decline the Count’s proposal, as she couldn’t accept the condition of giving up becoming a saintess.

Even if the Count promised to act as her patron instead of merely wiping her feet, it made no difference.

Evie had to become a saintess no matter what, rendering the Count’s proposal ineffectual and merely a burden that added to her refusal.

‘Come to think of it, it’s tomorrow.’

The day the Count would come for an answer, and simultaneously, it would be the day the purification ceremony would be held at the Manyanya Tower.

Already stressed over the next day, Evie burned the note in her hand with a weary spirit.

However, the next note only added to her fatigue.

―Widespread speculation that Zion Laurel and Evie Ariate have known each other before.
―A nobleman passionately insists they didn’t act like they were meeting for the first time and insists they must have met in Vis, making me want to knock out their front teeth.
―Suspicions that the two are in a romantic relationship or that the banquet incident was a lover’s quarrel are modest.
―Rumors spreading that Zion Laurel visited Evie Ariate’s residence cause suspicion to grow.

‘A romantic relationship, seriously, who…’

Evie laughed without any humor.

She expected such rumors to surface.

It’s always juicy when emotions are involved.

However, she didn’t expect them to craft such a detailed backstory that they met in Vis.

Amused and bewildered at the same time, Evie found herself downright laughing at the note, yet her laughter halted abruptly when she read the next one.

―Frustration from some young ladies stating Evie Ariate doesn’t suit Zion Laurel.

In itself, it was something to laugh off, but the specific phrasing in the note reminded her of the Count’s words.

―Above all, it does not suit you. The title of a saintess, not at all.

Three days ago, the Count had stated this impassively, as if asserting a timeless truth beyond any doubt.

Back then, while she didn’t show it, Evie felt quite offended.

‘I know, it’s unfitting.’

Holding back bitter memories, Evie bit her lip.

The Count was right.

She was indeed the most probable candidate for becoming a saintess, yet it was merely a role she managed to earn by acting out what others wanted a saintess to be.

Innately, Evie’s nature and true feelings were far from the ideal of a saintess that remained as noble chimeras.

For two painstaking years, she twisted herself into that mold, but with discriminatory non-binding offers, the Count tossed out such thoughtless comments.

―If you’re so sick and tired of struggling, being my ward instead of a saintess might be a better choice.

And so he put it.

‘Ridiculous, he doesn’t know anything.’

Evie chuckled hollowly at the Count’s arrogance.

The Count seemed to believe he was offering some grand blessing, but it was quite the magnanimous misconception.

What the Count promised in exchange for the willingness to give up being a Saintess were things Evie could obtain on her own if she so desired.

Now that Evie was twenty, multiple noble younglings had already proposed marriage to her.

Some were pathetic, driven by her popularity or abilities, yet others were earnest, sincere youths who truly admired her.

With an extended hand for the left ring finger, Evie could join a noble family at any moment.

However, she wouldn’t.

It would be meaningless if she couldn’t become a saintess.

Five years ago, Evie, who lived in Vis’ orphanage, had been taken by surprise one day when she caught the eye of the Tower Lord at the age of fifteen and brought up to Thienda.

Yet it was not until two years ago, at eighteen, that Evie first stepped onto Thienda’s social stage.

For three years prior, the place Evie found herself wasn’t some comfortable mansion in Thienda’s realm but the deep, underground chambers of the Manyanya Tower.

While Evie imagined Thienda would only be a paradise, the destination she reached was more harrowing than the slums or orphanages she strayed from.

Nevertheless, even after realizing her misstep, it was too late.

Evie was imprisoned in the Tower’s underground and had to be treated like a laboring slave for Thienda’s nobles.

All her youthful efforts to escape the dark slums and orphanages had ironically led to an even more hellish underground existence.

Still, Evie refused to kneel.

She clamored relentlessly to be the one she loudly declared to be as a child, a revered person, and she staked everything she owned.

―You wish to become a saintess?

―Amusing, alright, go ahead. If you succeed, I’ll release you as per your wish.

―But if you fail, you will live forever in this pit, with that tattered dog alongside you.

The Tower Lord indulged Evie’s proposal, charmed and amused by the boldness of a child daring to wager with nothing in hand.

For the Tower Lord, it was a trivial whim, but for Evie, it was the only chance she would ever have in her lifetime.

For Evie, becoming a saintess held such deep meaning.

Her yearning to be revered meant, in her own language, that she wanted a life dignified, something befitting a human.

‘Alright, enough of thinking.’

With that resolve, Evie slapped her own cheeks with her hands and, brushing away the heavy mood, again opened the stack of notes energetically.

―Evie Ariate is flirting openly with the Count, lacking any elegance—it’s obvious she hails from Vis! remarked one envious young lady.

“Hmph.”

Evie burned that note the moment she saw it, and not stopping there, she torched the remaining notes on the tray.

Ahaha, burn it all away!

Seething at the world’s ugliness, the saintess candidate Evie Ariate ultimately committed arson upon the tray.

With a merry bonfire rising, a reproach came from the doorway unexpectedly.

“Acting like that at your age, messing with fire.”

Hearing the fatigued voice, Evie glanced back.

There stood Diez, clad in a black coat, who had returned unnoticed.

“Oh, you’re back?”

Evie’s hands flailed in an attempt to extinguish the desk fire, albeit uselessly.

Seeing her earnest but futile attempt, Diez approached, shedding his gloves.

He covered the burning tray with its matching lid, taming the blazing scene.

Once the fire abated and the smoky scent lingered, Evie turned conversational to soften her embarrassment.

“How did the investigation go? Did you find out anything?”

During the past three days, Diez had been absent from the estate to investigate the curse upon Evie.

Now, Evie looked at Diez with anticipation-filled eyes, awaiting his reply as the competent butler gave a rather pleased response.

“I’ve made considerable progress. We are tracking the individual who placed the curse.”

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