Tiendavis - For Perfect Salvation - Chapter 45

It was when Ibi had just set foot in the secret passage to find out Cassel Montra’s scheme.

“The Marquis says he will support Rio Tuha instead of Ibi Ariate.”

At the same time, Sion was hearing news about Ibi before Ibi herself in his room.

“He also asked Count Tuha to persuade Roble Tuha. He said it’s not right to promote someone who breaks rules and disrupts order as a saint, so please support Rio Tuha together, who has legitimacy and qualifications.”

Moren said with a hardened face.

A few minutes ago, Moren had visited Cassel’s room on Sion’s orders.

At that time, His Excellency gave two instructions.

One was to kindly convey that if Cassel neglected the guardian’s uniform one more time, he would pay the price.

And the other was to wait until Ibi visited Cassel’s room and prevent Cassel Montra from doing anything foolish.

Although he couldn’t show it, Moren was very excited to receive these instructions.

Our usually cold Excellency has changed.

Taking care of a subordinate’s face personally, looking after a young lady so attentively.

Our Excellency must have developed feelings, this must be the power of love, Moren thought excitedly as he headed to Cassel’s room.

And the moment he saw Cassel Montra, Moren’s joy dried up instantly. It was because of that man’s consistent trashiness.

As soon as Cassel realized Moren was here on Laurel’s orders, he acted extremely kindly. Even though he received a warning close to a threat, he acted as if even that was an honor coming from the Count.

This alone was enough to make Moren exasperated and annoyed, but when people from the Tuha family visited afterwards, Moren became even more dumbfounded.

Cassel smiled vilely at Count Tuha, and then blabbered that the saint position indeed suited the daughters of Tuha. Then he suddenly declared that he would support the current saint’s younger sister as the next saint instead of Ibi.

It’s natural that the Tuha family members made a fuss at those words. They were surprised, pleased, and expressed their gratitude. In front of them, Cassel acted arrogantly as if he had bestowed a great favor.

And yet when Ibi Ariate, the person in question, visited, he rather shut his mouth. Without saying a word about such an important matter, he teased the young lady and snickered among themselves.

Having watched all that, Moren’s mood, which had been good earlier, became very low.

Of course, choosing the next saint is the prerogative of the great nobles. And Moren somewhat sympathized with his reasons for not supporting Ibi Ariate.

But apart from that, Cassel’s attitude was excessively vulgar. If a person had any shame, they shouldn’t have toyed with Ibi Ariate in such a manner.

“The Marquis didn’t inform Ibi Ariate of this fact. She’ll hear about it soon, and I think she’ll be greatly shocked when she finds out later.”

Moren reported Cassel’s actions in detail, hoping Sion would be enraged.

However, Sion didn’t show the reaction Moren expected.

“Is that all?”

“Yes, that’s all.”

“Then go out and wait.”

Sion only said this much, so Moren was about to add a few more words but eventually closed his mouth and turned around.

And as soon as Sion drove Moren out, he looked up towards the ceiling.

Just then, a small creaking sound echoed from above. That sound had started to be heard when Moren was almost finished with his report.

It was a sound that would normally be dismissed as just noise from the floor above.

But Sion already knew there was a secret passage right above this, so he sent Moren out as soon as he heard the sound.

‘Is it Ibi Ariate?’

He thought that perhaps Ibi had come to see him.

So Sion waited for Ibi to give some small signal from above.

But for some reason, even after the creaking sound from above – that is, the sound of crawling on knees – stopped, nothing happened for a long time.

So Sion considered the possibility that someone else, not Ibi, had sneaked in, and without further delay, he opened the entrance to the secret passage.

Then a girl fell from the ceiling with a thud. Unexpectedly, it was indeed Ibi.

Sion immediately stretched out his arms to catch Ibi as he saw her. Then he asked with a bewildered face towards Ibi who had fallen into his arms.

“Why didn’t you come down and were up there…”

No, he was about to ask but stopped when he saw Ibi’s face.

Ibi was pale white. Moreover, she was half out of her mind, neither looking at Sion nor feeling uncomfortable about being in his arms.

So Sion was deliberately flustered.

If it were the usual Ibi, she would have quickly explained why she had to fall from the ceiling as soon as she landed in his arms.

But Ibi didn’t do that. Instead, she remained motionless like a small animal cornered, only continuing shallow breaths.

Sion looked back and forth between Ibi and the ceiling she had fallen from, and realizing the situation, he asked quietly.

“Did you come to spy on Marquis Montra?”

“Yes, somehow the Marquis’s atmosphere seemed strange.”

Ibi answered with a face that showed no presence of mind. So Sion was certain that this was an answer drawn out by the curse, not Ibi’s will.

Swallowing a sigh, Sion walked to the sofa carrying Ibi. Ibi remained quietly in his arms even during this.

Sion carefully put Ibi down on the sofa. Then, neither sitting next to her nor standing up again, he leaned his arm on the sofa and examined Ibi’s complexion.

Only then did Ibi raise her eyes to look at Sion. She stared at him blankly for a long time before whispering.

“You already know.”

“I heard from my adjutant just now.”

Sion said calmly. So Ibi’s face turned even paler.

Sion was completely unaware that his answer had once again trampled on Ibi’s already tattered heart.

However, noticing that Ibi’s eyes were trembling precariously, he asked.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m not okay.”

Ibi answered in a small voice. Then, as if surprised by her own words, she frowned.

“…Not okay at all.”

Only after saying it did Ibi realize how painful she was.

And that realization finally pushed Ibi over the edge.

Ibi muttered, or rather groaned, while breathing heavily.

“I, until now, not even once…”

I wasn’t okay.

Ibi couldn’t finish her words. Because the breath she kept inhaling made her vision go dark.

Ibi kept inhaling without being able to exhale. Sion realized Ibi was having trouble breathing and grabbed her shoulders.

“Don’t touch me…”

But Ibi shook her head and brushed off his hand. Then she leaned forward, rejecting his interference.

As a result, her already faint breathing became even fainter, and finally Sion raised Ibi, who was weakly struggling.

With that, Ibi who had been feebly resisting went limp.

Ibi dropped her forehead onto Sion’s shoulder in front of her, and Sion briefly lifted Ibi’s cheek before immediately calling for his adjutant.

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Moren quickly called for the military doctor.

And the military doctor, wearing the guardian’s uniform, politely examined the young lady lying on the Commander-in-Chief’s bed.

After a while, the conclusion he carefully offered was exhaustion due to overwork. He also said that since she was still young and healthy, she would recover after resting well for a few days.

So Sion’s anger spread to an undeserving place.

‘What has that butler been doing if he can’t even take care of something like this?’

To neglect the child until she collapsed while being with her all day.

Sion gritted his molars, recalling Ibi’s annoying butler.

Ibi was still lying on Sion’s bed. Judging by her soft breathing sounds, she seemed to be in a deep sleep.

Sion sat beside the bed and quietly looked down at Ibi.

Overwork, it’s not particularly surprising.

Recently, Ibi Ariate’s life has been very eventful.

Starting from being cursed, she got tangled up with Sion and busily went back and forth between Tienda and Bis.

She almost got disciplined, also used Manyanya’s blessing consecutively, and was in a constant state of tension while participating in the Wisteria Festival.

In the midst of this, she was even betrayed, so it’s understandable that she collapsed from exhaustion.

The military doctor said she would be fine after resting for a few days, but Sion found this situation quite frustrating.

He couldn’t tell if this was sympathy, guilt, or the legacy of that man buried deep inside. Maybe it’s all of them.

Whatever the cause, Sion was extremely uncomfortable.

Sion must protect Ibi. So he told Ibi he would do anything for her if she just gave up on becoming a saint.

But Ibi chose the mud instead of Sion, and Sion was getting a headache from this stagnant situation.

Of course, this is Sion’s oversight.

Although the curse acted as an obstacle, Sion did not sufficiently persuade Ibi before making the proposal.

It was impossible to explain the situation due to the concealment curse placed on himself, and he thought Ibi was a fool because of the disclosure curse placed on her. So he just tried to convince her with results.

If persuasion was difficult, he should have at least built trust, but he avoided this as well.

Repeatedly telling himself that Ibi Ariate was just a debt to be settled hundreds of times, he deliberately kept his distance, feeling that he would be consumed in an instant if he didn’t draw this line.

Thanks to this, the situation is turning into a mess.

To be in a position where he can only watch like an idiot as Ibi Ariate falls and gets hurt right before his eyes.

He felt like he could hear that man’s voice scolding him harshly.

So Sion, feeling his mood hitting rock bottom, looked at the soundly sleeping Ibi for a while longer.

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It was almost night when Ibi woke up.

When she opened her eyes, Ibi was alone in a large bedroom and it was dark around her.

As Ibi got out of bed, there was a knock from outside.

“Are you awake?”

It was the Count’s voice. When Ibi answered softly, the Count spoke again.

“Come out if you want to eat. You can sleep more if you’re tired.”

It was still an unkindly polite tone.

Ibi had no appetite and no desire to sleep more.

Still, she opened the door and came out. Then she saw the Count standing at the doorway, and behind him, a spacious reception room.

There was only the Count in the reception room. Originally, Sion would use the bedroom and the guardians would stand guard in this reception room, but because Ibi occupied the bedroom, everyone was pushed out one room.

But Ibi, who couldn’t know this fact, first sat at the table as the Count indicated. On the table were a small brazier and soup and bread being warmed on top of it.

“They say it was overwork.”

“I see.”

“No one will know you’re here.”

“That’s fortunate.”

Ibi calmly replied to Sion’s explanation. She looked like she might not be fully awake yet, or like the shock from just before collapsing might still remain.

So as Sion was examining Ibi’s complexion, Ibi turned her head to look towards the window.

“Has the banquet started?”

“Yes, about two hours ago.”

Two hours ago, it would be too late even if I prepare right now.

As Ibi was thinking dejectedly, suddenly Cassel’s voice echoed in her ear.

―Instead, I’ll have to scold Ibi later if she’s not pretty.

Recalling that voice, an indescribable feeling once again overwhelmed Ibi.

“Hic…”

Faced with the violently surging emotion, Ibi reflexively covered her face. Then she groaned, stifling her voice.

Hearing that sound, Sion froze in place. So he looked at her thinking ‘surely not’, and Ibi began to sob with her face buried in both hands.

“Hic, hiccup…”

Seeing Ibi’s shoulders shaking, Sion immediately went around the table to Ibi’s side.

But remembering Ibi’s words not to touch her, he froze again unable to do anything.

As he hesitated, Ibi’s shoulders shook more sorrowfully.

Sion was perplexed, but unable to bear it any longer, he finally reached out his hand.

But just before his hand touched Ibi, Ibi’s sobbing suddenly turned eerie.

“Hic, hehehic, huhuhut…”

‘…What?’

Sion, who had been flustered thinking Ibi was crying, started to feel somewhat creepy as that sound began to sound like laughter.

Ibi shook her shoulders like that for a long time with her head bowed. Then suddenly, she called Sion in a refreshing voice.

“Count.”

When Ibi raised her head again, her face was clean without a single trace of moisture. Moreover, there was even a pretty smile on her lips.

As Sion was frozen, unable to keep up with Ibi’s state, Ibi said in a gentle voice.

“Could I borrow some paper and a pen?”

Of course, the prettiness and gentleness were only in the outward smile and voice, while at that time Ibi’s two eyes were burning more coldly than ever before.