“You want to meet the Saintess, don’t you?” Ravenna said smoothly, her voice ced with confidence.

  Eugene's breath hitched for a moment. "You… Where did you—?" He struggled to find the words, his thoughts racing. He had spent years searching for the Saintess, combing through every lead, every whisper in the underworld, but she had remained elusive. For Ravenna to so casually dangle this information in front of him—it was completely unexpected.

  He clenched his fists beneath the table. He needed the Saintess. If he had any hope of stopping the Witch of the West from reviving the Absolute Being, the Saintess’s cooperation was crucial.

  Ravenna leaned back in her chair, watching him like a cat pying with its prey. "I told you," she said, her voice ced with amusement, "I’ve been keeping a very close eye on things." She took a slow sip from her tea before setting the cup down with deliberate grace. "So, let’s make a deal. Take care of the invading Conley forces for me, and in return, I’ll arrange a meeting with the Saintess."

  Eugene’s eyes sharpened. This was a trap, an intricately woven web that he had just walked into.

  If Ravenna was telling the truth, it meant she not only knew where the Saintess was but also had the means to orchestrate a meeting. That in itself was absurd. From his memories of his past life, he knew that the Saintess would eventually surface in the Herptian Main Church on the western continent, years down the line. Her appearance there would trigger an international conflict over which faith she truly belonged to, leading to a war between the Solious and Herptian Churches.

  But beyond that? Her past was a mystery.

  The only thing he did know was that she had been present at a sve auction in the capital at some point. In his previous life, he had missed his opportunity to rescue her—someone else had taken her before he arrived. That was his biggest regret.

  And now, here was Ravenna, ciming she had a way to arrange a meeting?

  His jaw tightened. She’s lying. Or at the very least, she wasn’t telling him everything.

  "And how do I know you won’t go back on your word?" Eugene finally asked, his voice carefully neutral.

  Ravenna’s lips curled into a smirk. "I can sign a contract, notarized by the Solious Church if that would ease your mind."

  Eugene’s eyes narrowed. There it is. A clever move, but not clever enough.

  "The Herptian Church," he countered without hesitation.

  Ravenna chuckled, clearly anticipating this. "We can have it notarized at both churches if that would satisfy you."

  Eugene silently assessed her. She had chosen Solious first on purpose, knowing full well that, as a Herptian Apostle, she would be unaffected by its divine contract. A blessing from Solious could be denied by her effortlessly. But he was no fool—he saw through her game the moment she pyed it.

  Likewise, as the Solious Apostle, he could not be bound by a contract notarized by the Herptian Church.

  A dual contract was the only fair solution.

  "You don’t seem surprised," Eugene said slowly, his sharp gaze fixed on her, "that I know you're a Herptian Apostle."

  Ravenna let out a soft, amused ugh. "And you don’t seem surprised that I know you're a Solious Apostle. It seems we both have quite an extensive information network, don’t we?"

  She rose gracefully from her chair, her regal demeanor never faltering.

  Outside the Audience Room, West Wing, Imperial Pace

  The moon had begun its slow ascent, casting a silvery glow over the grand corridors of the Imperial Pace. The marble floors reflected its light, making the pace seem ethereal under the night sky.

  Vice Captain John stood tall, his posture disciplined as he kept guard at the entrance to the Audience Room. His shift was nearly over, and he could already hear the distant echoes of approaching footsteps in the corridor.

  Turning his head slightly, he saw Dame Aisha approaching, her armor glinting faintly under the moon’s embrace. She stopped beside him with a small smile, her sharp eyes gncing at him knowingly.

  "I heard from the others that you're meeting Katrina’s parents tonight?" she asked, taking his position as John stretched his tired muscles.

  "Yeah," John exhaled, rolling his shoulders. His armor gleamed under the pale light as he continued, "I’m hoping to marry her before the Imperial Wedding concludes. That way, I can take her with me to Jo when we depart."

  Dame Aisha nodded, arms crossed over her chest. "That’s a wise decision," she mused. "Her Highness doesn’t seem like she intends to stay in the capital much longer after the wedding, so it makes sense to act fast."

  John chuckled lightly, "Exactly. I don’t want to risk deying things."

  Aisha smirked. "Well, congratutions in advance, then. When Captain Hughes meets you again, he’s going to be shocked to find out he missed your wedding."

  John waved off her words, a casual air in his tone. "It won’t be a grand event. I don’t have a family, so it'll mostly be Katrina’s retives and maybe a few knights."

  Aisha let out a soft chuckle. "Still, best of luck convincing her parents."

  John merely raised a hand in farewell as he walked away, his boots echoing against the polished floor.

  As he made his way through the West Wing, his gaze naturally drifted towards Marie’s quarters. The sight that greeted him made him pause.

  A group of Imperial Knights stood stationed outside, along with the usual presence of Jo’s knights. That was unusual.

  Marie had only recently arrived in the capital. She shouldn’t have any connections here—so why did it look like she was entertaining guests?

  Just as this thought crossed his mind, the door opened, and two figures emerged.

  Princess Grace and Marie stepped out, their soft giggles filling the corridor.

  "Alright then, I’ll meet you tomorrow, Lady Marie," Grace said warmly.

  Marie curtsied lightly. "I look forward to it, Your Highness."

  John watched as Princess Grace disappeared down the hall before turning his attention back to Marie. His brows furrowed slightly.

  "Lady Marie," he called out. "What was that about?"

  Marie turned to him, her expression lighthearted. "Oh, Ser John. It’s nothing. Her Highness Grace merely wished to have tea and get to know me better." She smiled, then added, "She invited me to a training session for the high nobles tomorrow. Don’t worry, I’ll inform Master before I go."

  John studied her for a moment before giving a short nod. "As long as Her Highness Ravenna is informed, then it’s fine."

  Satisfied with her response, he resumed his walk out of the West Wing, his thoughts briefly lingering on the unexpected connection between Marie and the Princess.

  Whatever the reason for this newfound friendship, he had a feeling it would soon prove significant.

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