In the dark dawn before daybreak, Sion was leaving Laurel Castle with his aides.

Having finished his business in Tienda, he was returning to Bis.

Yesterday, Sion made clear to the nobility his opposition to Ibi Ariate’s selection as the saint.

Since he used explicit language, it will surely cause a commotion.

And naturally, the arrows will be directed at Ibi Ariate.

She’ll be in quite a predicament, but Sion decided not to care.

With that bold personality that doesn’t mince words, saying things like using him as insurance or being thoroughly calculating, there’s no need to worry particularly.

It was when Sion was organizing his thoughts about Ibi.

“Sion!”

A voice calling Sion’s name pierced through the monotonous sound of hoofbeats.

It was obvious who it was. In this castle, only the Grand Duke of Laurel, his half-brother, could call his name.

The Grand Duke, who appeared on horseback, was dressed in indoor clothes as if he had just left his bedroom. Moreover, he was followed hurriedly by only one servant, without any guards or aides behind him.

As the Grand Duke rushed out in such attire, Sion’s aides immediately pulled on their reins.

So Sion had no choice but to stop his horse as well.

“Are you going back to Bis again?”

The Grand Duke, having caught up with Sion, asked.

It was a gentle voice, unlike his usual sensitive and overbearing manner.

But even to his brother who was being so extremely attentive, Sion only nodded, rarely giving him an opening.

Then the Grand Duke asked again, sounding disappointed.

“When will you come back again?”

Come back. To Sion, this was the wrong expression.

For him, Tienda or Laurel Castle were not places to come back to.

They were just places he had to come to reluctantly as needed.

If possible, he didn’t want to set foot there again, but he had to come back soon.

So Sion briefly answered the Grand Duke.

“At the saint selection ceremony.”

At that time, Sion intended to take Ibi Ariate, who would not become the saint.

―Duchess Bayen is furious. Enraged, saying Count Laurel’s declaration is treason against God and Tienda-Bis.

―Marquis Montra holds a conference with the nobles. Expresses position to actively gather everyone’s opinions.

―Protests pour in to the Tuha family. Considering intervening as a family in the saint’s selection.

―Some directly protest to the tower, but the tower lord remains silent.

―The Grand Duke of Laurel effectively condones his younger brother’s decision.

Ibi scanned the note containing the current situation of the great nobles and the saint.

Then she examined the public opinion of the nobles placed next to it.

―Some voices criticize Count Laurel, saying “How can peace be mortgaged, this is also an insult to other great nobles.”

―Considerable voices defend Count Laurel, saying “We must consider the count’s feelings, he suffered a serious insubordination.”

―Considerable voices blame Ibi Ariate, saying “Did you think there would be no consequences for meddling with Amanessere’s watchman, all responsibility lies with Ibi Ariate.”

―One sarcastic voice says “It’s already great mercy not to have summarily executed that commoner.”

―The majority of voices agree with the opinion that Ibi Ariate should not be made the saint.

―There are also specific opinions that purification can continue even if she doesn’t become the saint.

After checking the notes, Ibi’s face was pale and bloodless.

Having confirmed the stirring public opinion in Tienda, Ibi covered her face with both hands and bit her lip.

‘Don’t cry, don’t cry.’

Then she desperately held back her tears.

‘Don’t shed even a single tear because of that kind of person.’

Ibi gritted her teeth. Then she struggled to keep the tears already pooled in her eyes from growing further.

Really, the count had done it spectacularly. And then he left for Bis at dawn the next day.

With that, all resentment poured onto Ibi who remained in Tienda.

Thanks to that, Ibi was more severely isolated than when she first stepped into high society, receiving criticism from the nobles.

Having barely swallowed her tears, Ibi lifted her head and took a breath. Yet the turmoil in her heart remained.

It felt like the ground beneath her feet had crumbled. It was more despairing than the day she was cursed.

―It would be better in many ways for you to give up on your own than for me to make you give up.

The count’s words floated up in her pitch-black mind.

―If I take action, it will surely cause a commotion.

Yes, this is what the count said. And he thoroughly kept his word.

Thus, he brilliantly cornered Ibi.

As Ibi ruminated on the count’s words and achievements, she burst into a hollow laugh.

It’s good she didn’t believe him. It’s good she didn’t fall for the pretense of repaying debts or taking care of her.

Because that person is someone who meddles in others’ lives just because it’s bothersome, and says your opinion doesn’t matter because he’ll take care of it himself.

‘To think you considered relying on such a person, you still have a long way to go.’

Ibi bitterly self-deprecated.

Still, her mood didn’t improve at all.

If the count was really angry and did this, it would have been better.

If he sincerely intended to punish Ibi’s rudeness, Ibi would have humbly accepted the situation itself.

But the count wasn’t like that.

Without any particular emotion or grudge towards what Ibi said, he simply used the situation to realize the proposal he had put forward.

Because of that ridiculous proposal to take care of her even though Ibi didn’t want it.

The count’s voice floated up again in Ibi’s anger-filled mind.

―Please let me know after the saint selection is over. How I should take care of you.

‘Don’t be ridiculous, you crazy bastard…!’

It was when Ibi was barely swallowing a scream.

“Lady Ibi, may I come in?”

“May you?!”

Dies’ voice was heard from outside the study, and Ibi inevitably shouted.

The curse irritated her even in this situation.

Thanks to that, she became even more enraged, but Ibi rubbed her face dry and tried hard to calm her mind.

Then she spoke again towards the quiet doorway.

“Yes, come in.”

On the opposite side of that door, in the hallway, Dies who had been frozen for a moment hesitantly grabbed the doorknob.

When he opened the door, Ibi was seen sitting in front of various documents.

Wearing a bright pink dress, Ibi was displaying her lovely figure as usual.

Only her complexion was paler than usual, but Ibi was deliberately smiling brightly as if she didn’t want to show it.

“Oh, what should I do. It seems like no one is on my side right now. The only one left is the furious Duchess Bayen?”

Ibi said, waving the documents towards Dies.

“It looks like Marquis Montera will be the first to back out.”

“I thought that person sent you a bouquet of flowers just last week.”

“He’s the type to swallow what’s sweet and spit out what’s bitter. I guess it’s like, ‘Ibi alone is sweet, but Ibi tainted by Count Laurel is bitter.'”

Ibi was chirping cheerfully about things she wasn’t asked about, when she suddenly burst into laughter.

The sight of her laughing brightly with a pale face was quite a spectacle, so Dies, unable to bear it, asked.

“…Are you really okay?”

“I’m not! I’m not okay at all! I feel like I’m going crazy!”

Her true feelings exploded without fail.

With that, the mask she had been precariously wearing flew off, and Ibi looked at Dies with a face full of resentment before collapsing face-down on the desk.

“This curse is really annoying…”

At Ibi’s self-loathing lamentation, Dies approached and sat on the edge of the desk.

Then he gently patted Ibi’s head, which was sprawled in a suitable spot.

“Don’t try to comfort me.”

Ibi got more annoyed.

So Dies stopped patting and started rolling Ibi’s head left and right.

At this behavior that was certainly not comforting, Ibi finally lost her grip on reason. As a result, Dies ended up coughing dryly after being hit in the solar plexus.

After delivering just punishment, Ibi composed herself. Then, with some color returned to her face, she spoke again.

“I’m not okay, but thanks to that, I’ve made a decision.”

“What decision at a time like this…”

“The decision that the count and the tower lord are the same tyrants to me, and that I absolutely need the position of saint to not be swayed by them.”

Perhaps thanks to the earlier outburst, Ibi’s expression was quite firm.

With such a face, Ibi said to Dies, who was looking at her skeptically.

“You might think I’m still going on about being the saint in this situation, but I don’t think this situation is necessarily disadvantageous only to me.”

“Then who else is it disadvantageous to?”

“The count.”

Recalling that hateful bastard, Ibi gritted her teeth and smiled.

“Right now, everyone is surprised and trying to please the count by criticizing me, but after some time passes, they’ll probably get subtly annoyed. The count who threatened all the nobles because of his personal affairs. This itself is tyranny, isn’t it?”

“Even so, the count will remain strong. Because he’s a Laurel.”

“But it would be different if another great noble steps in. Fortunately, Duchess Bayen is indignant about this matter. So there will surely be a chance. A chance to turn this situation around.”

Ibi’s eyes were quietly burning as she murmured like that.

It wasn’t vague optimism, but a desperate determination not to give up like this.

Ibi, who had secretly despaired for a moment, raised her spirits again. Then she started thinking to find what she could do.

“Before that, I need to do something about this curse…”

“I just received a contact about that. From the helper.”

The butler spoke as if he had been waiting for Ibi’s lamentation.

At that welcome news, Ibi’s eyes widened, so Dies reported without delay.

“It seems there’s both progress and obstacles. First, they succeeded in tracking down to the area where the snake is. But there’s another night clan in that area, so they’re confused about which one is the snake.”

At those words, Ibi’s face, which had brightened for a moment, became gloomy again.

“What do you mean? Didn’t they say they could sense each other like limbs? And now they’re confused about that?”

“As if they knew you’d ask that, they even wrote an explanation. ‘If you interlock your fingers, you’ll surely be confused about which finger is which finger.'”

At the analogy that seemed almost like teasing, Ibi was momentarily at a loss for words.

But what came next was even more outrageous.

“So they requested that we come down to Bis. They said they can distinguish the snake only if Lady Ibi is nearby.”

“They’re asking me to come to Bis?”

Ibi unconsciously raised her voice.

Ibi, a valuable asset of the tower, can only go to places permitted by the tower lord.

Moreover, Ibi had previously tried to escape to Bis to get away from the tower lord.

After suffering greatly for that, she couldn’t freely roam even Tienda, let alone Bis, and now they’re asking such an Ibi to come down?

“Do I really have to go?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll go to Bis to check if there’s another way…”

“…No.”

Dies, knowing that Ibi couldn’t escape the tower lord’s sight, was about to look for another method without lingering.

But suddenly Ibi stopped Dies’ words.

Ibi no longer had the luxury of time.

Now that the Tienda nobles have turned their backs, she couldn’t waste days trying to find a method that might not even exist while being bound by the curse.

So Ibi said with a thoughtful face.

“I’ll go. I’ll get permission from the tower lord.”

“He won’t easily allow it. Besides, he’ll surely ask for the reason…”

“The count.”

“The count?”

“I’ll say I need to meet the count. That I need to persuade the count to become the saint.”

Dies frowned at Ibi’s reckless claim, but his face became a bit dazed at the mention of the count.

“The tower lord is currently in a bet with me, and he agreed not to use his power to interfere with me until the bet is over.”

Ibi calmly continued for the sake of that pitiful butler.

“So he’ll allow it. If he stops me here, it would mean he’s using his authority to prevent me from becoming the saint.”

Once, Dies was certain.

That Ibi’s true strength, which the nobles couldn’t even fathom, was her intelligence and courage.

But it seems he needs to revise that thought a little.

No matter how you look at it, Ibi Ariate is far more extraordinary when it comes to cunning.