“Seems like we have an unexpected guest! Like a deer falling into a trap, I welcome you, Miss Magadal.” Marquis Yoakam said in delight.
The Nun Princess glared at him, but her attention was still on Archbishop Moros’ hand. She was visibly shaking, anxiety written all over her face. Yoakam turned to the Archbishop and asked, “Master, how do you want to deal with this pretty lady here?”
“You better not have any perverted intentions with her. She is someone with a complicated background, someone you do not want to mess with.” Moros said sternly.
“You must be kidding, Master.” Marquis Yoakam laughed, “Women- I have loads of them. But compared to those charming and complacent women, I have always been interested in more provoking women, like prickly roses.” He added.
Moros gave him a cold stare.
“I will send you to Archbishop Wood and he will get to know everything about this matter. He will supervise you in my place for now. Please uphold your identity, princess.” Moros said to Princess Magadal.
He said with clear aggravation in his voice, “This is for your own safety. There will be no next time, Princess Magadal.”
“I don’t need pity from you despicable people,” Magadal said with a pale face, clenching her teeth and rebuked, “If you use the Holy Cathedral to intervene in any foreign political disputes, Flame King Gatel’s pride will be ruined by you people! Aouine will regard you all as sinners!”
Her eyes were smouldering with anger.
Moros was left without any expression. Those words from the Princess were as sharp as a knife, but they were nothing to him. The Holy War was just around the corner, and when its punishment arrives, the people will fall into despairing flames.
“Desperate times call for desperate measures. Princess, your opinion is just of a foolish woman’s,” he dismissed Magadal’s words harshly. He turned the tables, holding up the ring on his finger and said, “Moreover, isn’t this all you care about? You and I shall be judged by Mother Marsha without any prejudice one day, and I don’t think I’m more shameful than you are.”
It was a normal ring worn by nobles, smelted with silver, it glistened, showing the olive branches carved onto it. And in the center of the ring, a vermillion ruby the color of flaming embers.
It was the emblem of the Seifer family.
The Nun Princess froze and her face became a little paler.
Moros signalled to Marquis Yoakam and said, “Send her to Wood and if he asks, you can tell him the truth.”
“This is not important, and I don’t really want to meet Archbishop Wood. I can see that he doesn’t like me.” Marquis Yoakam answered mockingly.
Moros said nothing but he ridiculed this secretly in his heart. Magadal’s heart grew a little colder, after hearing them say that Wood had already known all this but did not say a word.
“It doesn’t matter if it’s Wood or Moros, they all represented the Holy Cathedral of Fire, they all represen
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