Don't Pick That Flower (2 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 16
If the outside world of the greenhouse garden was a cold late autumn, the inside was a warm spring day.
It’s hot. Irene took off her thick cashmere shawl and looked around the greenhouse garden.
Forgetting the season, the brightly blooming flowers, the indoor garden, and the clear chirping of birds from somewhere made the greenhouse garden, which she was visiting for the first time, both beautiful and full of wonders.
“It seems you like this place.”
Irene, unable to take her eyes off the greenhouse garden, nodded.
“Yes. It’s such a beautiful place.”
“That’s good to hear. Don’t just stand here, go inside and take a look.”
Only then did Irene turn to look at Carlos.
“Is that okay?”
“Do you think I’d tell you to do something that’s not allowed?”
Carlos said as he took the shawl Irene was holding.
A small, pale hand flailed in the air, startled.
“I’ll hold it.”
“No need.”
Carlos firmly refused and pointed with his chin to a table on one side of the greenhouse garden.
“I’ll be sitting over there, so go explore.”
“Really… is it okay if I explore alone?”
If the priests might be watching from somewhere, wouldn’t it be better to walk together?
That was the reason she came to the greenhouse garden with him in the first place.
When Irene asked with curiosity, Carlos tilted his head slightly.
“Do you perhaps want to explore with me?”
“Yes, what?!”
At the unexpected question, Irene jumped back in shock, as if doused with cold water while sleeping.
He had asked to tease her, but her extreme reaction made him feel a bit annoyed. Carlos frowned.
“It seems you dislike me that much.”
“No, that’s not it!”
Irene shook her head in a fluster.
“It’s not that I dislike you; I was just surprised because I didn’t expect you to say that.”
It was sincere. From the moment Irene first met Carlos, she had only thought of him as a frightening and intimidating presence, not someone she disliked.
Disliking someone, after all, stemmed from a foundation of affection.
“Then it should be fine to walk together.”
His response somehow sounded relieved.
Irene blinked slowly and asked back.
“Weren’t we supposed to walk together anyway?”
“What?”
“Since the priests might be watching from somewhere, wouldn’t it be better to show them a proper date scene…?”
…Now that she mentioned it, he had said something like that.
Carlos finally understood Irene’s reaction, but at the same time, he wasn’t pleased and furrowed his brow.
He turned and sat down on a chair. With his arm propped on the table and his chin resting on it in a slouched posture, he clearly looked displeased.
“Did I do something wrong?”
From Carlos’s reaction, it seemed like she had, but the problem was she didn’t know what.
So, Irene fidgeted nervously, watching Carlos cautiously.
Carlos, who had been quietly observing her, finally spoke.
“The priests can’t spy on us here, so go explore freely.”
Her anxious golden eyes fixed on Carlos. At her gaze, as if asking if it was really okay to go alone, Carlos nodded.
Only then did Irene, looking relieved, give a faint smile and lightly bow her head.
“I’ll be back.”
Carlos watched Irene disappear into the depths of the greenhouse garden and snapped his fingers.
At that moment, the long shadow stretching at his feet gained depth and suddenly rose. It resembled a pitch-black puppet.
“Protect her.”
If they were sane, no one would dare touch what was his in his own territory.
But the priests were an exception.
He could never let his guard down until the moment they left the Esper Territory.
*
Normally, nobles would offer guest rooms and lavish banquets to treat the priests visiting their territory with utmost hospitality, but the Esper family was different.
Far from being treated, the priests who were driven out of the castle grumbled and cursed Carlos.
“No matter how much he dislikes the temple, this is unacceptable.”
“Exactly. To treat us, the faithful servants of the Lord, so poorly! No wonder there are rumors that he has the blood of a demon!”
“It might not just be a rumor. Think about those eerie purple eyes. Does it make sense for a human to have purple eyes?”
“…Enough, brothers.”
Trope glanced toward the alley and cautioned the priests.
“You mustn’t forget that this is the Esper Territory.”
He was warning them that their words could reach Carlos’s ears.
Understanding the hidden meaning, the priests fell silent one by one, looking around cautiously.
One of them carefully asked Trope.
“What will you do now? It seems Grand Duke Esper has no intention of handing over that witch.”
Another priest joined the conversation.
“To me, it looks like he’s already bewitched by the witch. Otherwise, why would he protect her so fiercely?”
“Exactly. Before that witch turns not only Grand Duke Esper but others into puppets, we must deal with her quickly.”
“We should meet Grand Duke Esper again and warn him of the witch’s danger…”
“Enough, enough.”
As the priests started to raise their voices again, Trope raised his hand to cut them off.
“I understand your feelings, brothers, but as long as Grand Duke Esper stands so firmly, dealing with the witch is impossible.”
“Then are you giving up?”
“Regrettably, it seems we must. We don’t have the power to bend Grand Duke Esper’s will.”
Having faced Carlos directly, the priests nodded in agreement with Trope’s words.
“No way.”
Except for one.
When someone spoke firmly, Trope and the priests turned to look at him.
Soon, the priests wore puzzled expressions.
Was there such a person in their group?
Just as Trope, equally confused, was about to ask who he was, the man’s eyes momentarily changed from brown to purple.
Meeting those purple eyes, Trope and the priests’ doubts turned to certainty.
Right. This man is part of our group.
The man’s eyes returned to ordinary brown. He scanned the priests, who were staring at him as if entranced, and spoke firmly.
“A witch is a vile being that defies God’s will. As faithful servants of God, we cannot let this pass.”
Trope, troubled, countered.
“I fully understand your feelings, brother. I, too, want to deal with the witch, but with Grand Duke Esper so resolute, there’s nothing we can do.”
Another priest nearby chimed in.
“Exactly. Anyone can see she’s a witch, but he demands evidence, so what can we do…?”
“If evidence is needed, we can provide it.”
At the man’s casual remark, Trope’s eyes widened like saucers.
“You have evidence?”
“No. There’s no evidence right now, but we can create it.”
“What does that…?”
As Trope asked in confusion, the man smoothly curled the corners of his lips into a smile.
“Let’s hold a witch trial.”
*
“A witch trial?”
Dewey nodded and continued.
“It has been confirmed that a telegram was sent to the office in Kaman Territory, which handled the fire incident at Baron Silas’s residence. They requested information about the culprit and the investigation details.”
“Before that, they sent a telegram to the Great Temple as well.”
“Yes. The telegram to the Great Temple was sealed with divine power, and since we don’t have anyone planted inside, we couldn’t confirm the exact reason for it… but given the circumstances, it’s highly likely they’re preparing for a witch trial.”
A witch trial. A unique temple procedure where a suspected witch is questioned, interrogated, or even tortured to determine if they are indeed a witch.
As innocent victims often suffered in the process, the imperial family ordered that witch trials be conducted under a responsibility system.
“If it’s proven that the lady is not a witch, the priest who requested the trial will face severe punishment under the responsibility system. I don’t understand what they’re thinking, trying to hold a trial.”
Carlos, sitting at his desk, responded.
“What the doves want isn’t to prove whether she’s a witch or not.”
“Then what do they want?”
“Her death.”
Dewey looked puzzled.
“Why would the doves want the lady’s death? What benefit does that bring them?”
“There’s someone else who wants it.”
“What… oh.”
Realizing who Carlos was referring to, Dewey let out a short gasp.
Carlos looked at Dewey and asked.
“Are you sure this matter has nothing to do with that guy?”
Dewey bowed deeply and answered.
“I’ll look into it again.”
As Dewey left, Carlos sank deep into his chair.
He had expected the priests wouldn’t back down easily, but to think they’d prepare a witch trial. It was an unexpected move that made him let out a hollow laugh.
Well, the outcome would be the same anyway.
Just in case something like this happened, tipping off His Royal Highness the Crown Prince in advance was a stroke of genius.
“I should let her know.”
Since she’d be startled if she suddenly found herself on trial, it would be better to inform her in advance. Carlos headed to the parlor where Irene was.
*
Currently, Irene was in the parlor meeting with the dressmaker to have winter clothes tailored.
When Carlos arrived at the parlor, Irene was surrounded by fabrics and dressmaker staff.
“My, your fair skin suits any color so well.”
“Every design looks good on you. Just thinking about you wearing my creations makes me happy already!”
“We should pick out accessories in advance too!”
The dressmaker and staff looked delighted, but Irene seemed uncomfortable in the situation, her expression awkward. She also appeared a bit overwhelmed.
“I get it.”
Having experienced this himself, Carlos immediately understood how Irene felt.
But he didn’t step in. If he did, he might end up caught by the dressmaker too.
For the same reason, he thought it best not to stay and was about to leave quietly when the dressmaker spotted him and called out cheerfully.
“Lord!”
Not Lord or His Serene Highness the Grand Duke, but Lord?
At the unfamiliar title, Irene looked at Carlos with curiosity.
Carlos glanced at her before turning to the dressmaker.
“It’s been a while.”
“I was just thinking you hadn’t contacted me even though it’s past time to tailor winter clothes. Since you’re here, would you like to get fitted as well?”
See? She’s trying to rope me in. Carlos took a step back and answered.
“No. I’m busy now, so I’ll do it later.”
“Are you… very busy?”
At the cautious question, his steps, which were about to turn away, stopped.
Carlos turned his head to look at Irene. Her slightly trembling eyes seemed to wish he’d stay.
She probably wanted the dressmaker staff’s attention, which was focused on her, to be diverted to him.
Carlos found Irene’s audacity to use him both bold and not entirely unpleasant.
“…I can stay for a bit.”
At some point, his body had fully turned toward Irene.
Male lead reborn without memories — but he still falls for her.
The person he finds displeasing in this life turns out to be his cherished wife-master in previous life…
Xie Zhi and Fang Xianxing who had known each other for less than three days through a blind date sat in the same car in front of the civil affairs bureau. They had a disagreement and failed to get married.
Xie Zhi immediately took out his phone, slid through his contacts, and randomly selected the next marriage candidate.
The woman snatched his phone and hung up. Looking at his phone wallpaper, she awkwardly changed the subject: “An ancient painting, eh? It looks pretty good, it’s just that the person in the painting looks a bit like me.”
When he heard this, he sarcastically mocked her for being so delusional, completely unaware that, the person in front of him was the reincarnation of Wen Ru, the famous prime minister of Yuan Shun whom he most admired…
The female CEO who doesn’t want to get married with a divorce agreement in hand × The male archaeological researcher who will only get married if he’s sure he can get divorced
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