“It might be better to be jealous.”

Zion couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and without realizing it, he opened his mouth.

“Rather than being cowardly and irresponsible.”

“Cowardly… you say?”

“Even if we set aside that Evie Ariate is not a bird but a person, if it is not cowardly and irresponsible for a saint to prattle about salvation for the next saint, then what is it?”

The words Zion spat out, begrudgingly tolerating the annoyance, were polite in form, but their content and tone were no better than casual speech.

At this, the saint’s veil was momentarily shaken. A saint, who had never been faulted for her deportment and demeanor, appeared to be greatly taken aback by this directness.

However, it was only for a moment, as the saint, the symbol of the noble tower, soon regained her composure and spoke.

“I understand why you would say that, Count. This is my fault for not fully considering our situation…”

“I have no interest in the tower’s situation.”

But Zion cut off the saint’s words without even hearing her out.

“It’s the same, isn’t it, whether you know the inside of the tower or not? You have still neglected your duty.”

The saint neither denied nor excused herself.

But Zion did not think that he had silenced the saint with his sharp criticism. The saint was merely silent in front of the nobility because she was obliged to be humble, perhaps voicing all sorts of objections in her mind.

So Zion reluctantly softened his edge.

“Don’t be angry; say what you want to say. If you don’t have the courage to speak, you may get up.”

At the emperor’s mercy, the saint’s shoulders visibly slumped.

Zion thought the saint would leave at that, but surprisingly, she held her ground and spoke again.

“… You are not wrong, Count. I just want to say that Ariate and I are different. How can I, a mere wretch, be compared to one who receives the grace of God?”

“You are not so low, Your Holiness, to excuse yourself as being unworthy.”

But the count remained obstinate to the end, and at this harsh attitude, Saint Roblele quietly bit her lower lip.

Roblele had heard that Count Laurel was awkwardly in love with Ariate, unable to do anything.

So she had stepped forward just in case, but indeed, nobility was nobility. Zion Laurel was as coolheaded as Rohika Sedro.

So Roblele futilely gathered up the courage she had mustered, and silently resented the cruel count.

Cowardly and irresponsible, do you utter such cruel words without knowing what I have been through? Is it really wrong for a powerless person to place hope in someone special?

I only wish for Ariate to become a saint; I just want to escape this yoke; I only hope not to be despised by my precious sister.

Roblele steeled her heart to endure the count’s vivid criticism.

‘Was he this kind of person?’

And the brutal count, Zion, who tormented the frail saint, felt considerable disgust at the situation.

Since Evie doubted the saint, Zion too was secretly curious about what kind of person the saint was.

So as he listened carefully to the saint’s words, he unexpectedly regained his filial piety. He reevaluated his late father, who had not acted kindly.

The former Grand Duke Laurel had used his children to the fullest, being the worst parent, but at least he had risked his life at the last moment. Even if it was the world’s most foolish act, he had done everything he could for responsibility and duty.

But what on earth was that Roblele doing, saying nice things in a flower garden inside the fence?

If the saint had met the Marquis of Montra yesterday, and had said even a word to that fool’s whim, Zion might have lent an ear to the saint’s words today.

But yesterday the saint did not reveal a single hair. And then, to whine here, asking to persuade the duke, Zion was at a loss.

But he had not met the saint yesterday, so he did not listen to her today, and she wailed to persuade the grand duke, leaving Zion speechless.
So instead of interfering with the whimsical Duke Montra and suffering humiliation, it was deemed safer and more elegant to send the girl you love to Count, who was infatuated with Evie Ariate.

Zion found it amusing that he thought himself on par with Duke Montra, and it was also truly amusing that such a robust saint was ranting about the salvation of the tower.

Although she had been preserving her position with utmost effort all along, now confessing that she was still not at ease was of no avail.

Since the always fine saint had never been fine and designated Evie Ariate, the savior, it was now suspicious what the saint’s desired salvation was in the first place.

“Thank you for enlightening me to what I was unaware of. I will deeply engrave your teachings, Count.”

Sure enough, the saint withdrew in silence at the end. It seemed she had judged there was nothing more to gain from pressing further here.

It was an expected conclusion but felt somewhat anticlimactic. Therefore, Zion pondered the cause, thought of the indomitable Evie, and sighed.