At first, it was merely an act to compensate for the insufficient healing power due to Latieana Merigold’s absence.

That’s simply what Saintess candidates were.

Completely unlike me, who possessed noble and perfect healing power—pathetic, worthless things that vanished like dust carried away by the slightest breeze.

After all, even if it wasn’t me, they were destined to die insignificantly anyway. Wouldn’t it be better for them to sacrifice themselves and offer their meager strength to me, the Grand Saintess?

Initially, that was the reason. The next was anxiety.

Fear that others might notice the weakening of my own power.

Fortunately, not long ago, I had once again absorbed Latieana’s power.

Thus, for now, I was not lacking in healing strength.

Yet, the reason Ivy Violet brought the Saintess candidates’ healing power again tonight was…

“Pleasure.”

It was purely for enjoyment.

Moonlight poured down sacredly over her bare, beautiful, smooth skin.

Ivy smiled gently and closed her eyes, recalling the past.

We were orphans in the same helpless situation.

Except that Latieana Merigold stood out a little more.

A rural backwater.

Not even a small town—no paved roads, barely any population, truly a tiny countryside village.

The place where Ivy and Latieana lived was an orphanage converted from an old school, funded by donations from several exceedingly generous and wealthy nobles in the capital.

I didn’t know how much money the nobles contributed, but the greedy headmistress was certainly no kind person. In summer, bugs made our whole bodies unbearably itchy; in winter, the cold made us feel we’d freeze to death.

In that place, Ivy and Latieana grew up together.

Among roughly ten children, they were the only peers of the same age.

“L, Latieana, where are you going?”

“I’m being called by the village kids. Want to come?”

“A, ah, no. I, I’m fine.”

Though the same age, they weren’t close friends.

Latieana was often summoned by village children rather than staying at the orphanage.

Still, Ivy believed she was more popular than Latieana.

Because she assumed the village kids called for Latieana only to bully her.

She’d always refused their invitations to play, yet secretly followed from afar—and saw that Latieana was constantly being mocked.

“Hey! Latieana! There’s a caterpillar on your head!”

“Aaaah! Help me!”

“Pffft—just kidding. You idiot fell for it again!”

The boys would scare her with lies, yank her cherry-blossom-pink hair, and laugh at her.

They’d deliberately remove the few hair ribbons securing her neatly braided pigtails and tear them apart.

Each time, her glossy hair would flutter beautifully in the wind.

Ivy would glare at the scene with sharply narrowed eyes.

“What’s so enjoyable about meeting them when you’re just getting bullied?”

She couldn’t understand it.

She thought Latieana was a foolish girl. She believed the other kids didn’t invite her because she was too clever for them.

But later, she learned the truth.

The other children acted that way because they liked Latieana.

And they avoided speaking to her because they found her uncomfortable.

“Hey, did you see her earlier?”

“Who? That orphanage girl?”

“I kinda dislike her.”

“Why?”

“Last time I accidentally saw her—she was poking a dead pigeon with a stick and laughing. Gave me chills.”

“Now that you mention it, I remember too! She has that friend, the nice one with pink hair. She chased me with scissors once. Then she made eye contact with me and ran away.”

“Ugh, seriously creepy!”

Ivy’s face flushed hot as she eavesdropped on their conversation from the shadows.

The girls weren’t making it up. But the pigeon was meant to be pushed toward ants as food, and the scissors were meant to cut that annoying Latieana’s skirt as punishment.

Because that girl kept giggling and chatting with other kids instead of staying with the orphanage group.

It disgusted Ivy to see an orphan acting like an ordinary child.

On a whim, Ivy sprinkled a generous amount of powdered charcoal all over Latieana’s skirt—so much it couldn’t be washed off. It happened to be the cleanest dress Latieana owned, and that very day, she’d been invited to another child’s birthday party.

Tears welled sorrowfully in Latieana’s wounded eyes.

Hiding her expression behind her tangled, dry hair, Ivy shouted,

“W, who on earth d, did such a terrible thing?”

She feigned righteous anger on Latieana’s behalf. No culprit stepped forward. Ivy smiled contentedly while the other children’s faces darkened.

“You saw her laughing, right?”

“I did! It must’ve been Sister Ivy. Right, Sister Latieana? I told you so!”

While harvesting carrots and radishes in the backyard, the children shouted at Latieana.

“Sister Latieana! Aren’t you angry? She follows you around every day, spies on you! Say something!”

To claim she wasn’t angry would be a lie.

Latieana knew better than anyone that Ivy was strange—how she smiled gleefully whenever something bad happened to Latieana, how she muttered to herself, “Latieana, so annoying, so annoying, so annoying,” repeatedly.

At first, it gave her chills, but there was no proper solution.

When criticized, Ivy would scream until her anger subsided—even the ill-tempered headmistress couldn’t handle her. Once, she rolled on the floor all night shrieking like a monster until her voice gave out. Another time, she chopped wood with an axe all day until her hands bled. Yet her odd behavior never improved. When confronted, Ivy would retaliate with even worse acts, as if seeking revenge.

So Latieana chose to ignore her.

Ivy was simply different from others and impossible to change. Therefore, not reacting to her strangeness—accepting her illogical words, fake friendliness, jealous mischief—was the wisest course. Responding to every incident only made things worse and exhausting.

Besides, Latieana planned to leave the orphanage upon adulthood and go far away. Eventually, it would all pass. The Empire was vast; once she left, she’d never encounter Ivy again.

Not long after that…

“Latieana. What’s that?”

“Oh, this? How is it? Pretty, right?”

A butterfly-shaped hair ribbon adorned Latieana’s high ponytail.

Tiny cubic zircons embedded in it sparkled brilliantly with every turn of her head, catching the sunlight.

She said a relatively wealthy boy from the village had given it to her.

“He always used to steal and tear up my hair ribbons. When I got mad, he apologized and gave me this.”

Latieana’s cheerful smile matched perfectly with the sparkling zircons.

“She thinks she’s better than me?!”

Ivy huffed, but her rage wouldn’t subside. Boiling jealousy surged uncontrollably, like a volcano erupting from her scalp.

After much deliberation, that night, Ivy secretly trampled the ribbon underfoot and shredded it to pieces with scissors.

Then she buried the ribbon and zircons beneath a burnt tree in the forest—where no one would ever find them.

“From now on, you’ll never dare show off in front of me again, will you?”

The next day, Latieana’s face was streaked with tears over the lost ribbon, and she never received another gift afterward.

Ivy felt quite satisfied.

Still, while Latieana got along well with other children, Ivy only watched secretly from afar.

“Trip. Break a bone. Since you’re on dish duty this week, it’d be perfect if your wrist got injured. The headmistress won’t care about your excuse—you’ll suffer with that painful arm. Hurry up and fall already!”

Occasionally, other village girls noticed Ivy’s behavior and gave her wary, disapproving glances—but Ivy didn’t care.

She only wished to curse Latieana.

As Ivy grew older, her speech became even more sparse, causing her to stutter more frequently.

Moreover, she avoided mirrors and neglected washing her face or combing her hair. Her already dusky skin darkened further under the sun, and her hair became increasingly dry and tangled.

In contrast, Latieana had naturally fair skin. Thanks to diligent brushing, her lovely hair grew even glossier.

“I’m sick of it!”

It was the day to harvest vegetables from the backyard. On her way to the outhouse before heading to the orphanage’s backyard, Ivy spotted a dazzling, elegant carriage parked in front of the building.

Though she saw the orphanage courtyard daily, it now looked like another world.

Ivy halted, staring blankly at the carriage.

The door opened, and out stepped a middle-aged man in a finely tailored uniform and a lady dressed in a princess-like, exquisitely beautiful gown.

The brooch pinned to her dress looked expensive enough to fetch a high price if stolen and sold.

The headmistress rushed barefoot to greet the couple,

Rubbing her thick, pig-like hands together obsequiously.

The couple headed toward the headmistress’s office.

“We wish to adopt a girl.”

“Huh? Here? Are you serious?!”

“We received recommendations from other places in the capital, but since we’ve supported this orphanage for so long, we feel more attached here. Is there a suitable child?”

“Of course! May I ask the child’s age…?”

“We’d prefer an older child, not too young. Younger children may still have other opportunities. We heard 13 is the most difficult age for adoption—is there a girl around that age?”

“Perfect! We have exactly one!”

As the lady said, 13 was indeed too old to realistically hope for adoption.

At that age, children lost their “cute” appeal and entered a rebellious phase, making adaptation difficult—many considered them troublesome.

Yet this thoughtful couple specifically wanted the child least likely to be adopted, for the sake of others.

“We can see her from here.”

The headmistress flung open the window and pointed to one of the children harvesting vegetables in the backyard.

“How about this child? Latieana Merigold. A gentle, pretty girl. You’ll like her.”

“Oh my. What beautiful hair! Like spring flower petals. Isn’t that right, dear?”

“Indeed. Her hands helping the other children look kind as well.”

The couple gazed at Latieana through the window and smiled warmly.

“Is she the only 13-year-old girl here?”

“Ah, yes. Well… that’s correct.”

The headmistress scratched the back of her head and nodded. Without hesitation, the couple made their decision.

“Let’s take Latieana.”

Ivy, having overheard the entire conversation, twisted her face grotesquely.

“No! I’m here! I exist too! Why choose Latieana? Why?!”

Trembling violently with clenched fists, Ivy burst through the door into the headmistress’s office.

It’s because the headmistress lied! They don’t know I exist! If they knew about me, they’d want to adopt me instead of Latieana!

She brimmed with desperate hope.

But the noble couple gasped and covered their mouths upon seeing Ivy storm in.

Her wild, tangled hair framed sharply upturned, fierce eyes; her lips strained into a forced smile; her emaciated body trembled uncontrollably.

Ivy’s appearance looked utterly grotesque.

“F, forgive us. We’re just startled.”

The couple belatedly apologized, worried the child might be hurt—but Ivy’s face had turned crimson like a poisoned apple.