Don’t Be Holy! - Chapter 128

Eir didn’t voice the thought that it would be stranger if she didn’t try to escape.

Meanwhile, Rubel’s grip on her shoulders slid down to clasp her hands.

“That’s right. You’re a witch—of course you’d be afraid of going to the capital. But I’m here. No one can hurt you.”

Such absurd confidence should have sounded delusional, but coming from Rubel Shinote, it carried undeniable weight.

What exactly is this man scheming?

“How can you be so sure? I’m a criminal—won’t I be thrown in prison?”

Please say yes. Eir looked at him pleadingly.

But Rubel frowned as if she’d said something ridiculous.

“You’re coming to our home.”

Why “our”? Eir couldn’t comprehend.

“Where is ‘our home’?”

“Where else? The ducal estate.”

Why would that be “ours”……? Blinking blankly, she shook her head.

This was no time to be swayed by his words. Going to the ducal estate? Unthinkable. Beyond whether it made sense—it simply couldn’t happen.

Eir knew nothing about the ducal household. How could she possibly escape from such a place?

“No. I’d rather go to the Central Temple.”

“What nonsense is this? Why insist on walking into hell when I’ve paved a path for you?”

“Because…… if I go to your home, you’ll be guilty of harboring a criminal. I don’t want to endanger you.”

She strained to fabricate this excuse.

She expected Rubel to dismiss it as nonsense, but surprisingly, he simply stared at her in silence.

Surely he doesn’t actually believe me? He released her hands and cupped her face instead.

“Every time you say things like this, I’m reminded how truly foolish you are.”

So he doesn’t believe me after all.

Eir lowered her eyes, unsure whether to feel relieved or disappointed. But then he forced her chin up.

Their eyes met in midair, and Eir’s lips parted slightly in surprise. His exasperated expression inexplicably tickled something in her heart.

He spoke quietly.

“Anyone can see I’m in a better position than you. So just think about yourself. Worrying over someone like me is a luxury.”

“Since when have I ever—”

“You do it often. More than you think.”

His gaze dropped to her lips. At this proximity, Eir could easily guess what thoughts were passing through his mind.

After a hesitation, his lips drew near. Keeping her chin locked in place, he nipped lightly at her lower lip. The sound of his indrawn breath was audible as he leaned in.

He lifted her like a child, arms wrapping around her.

“Eep!”

Startled, her legs instinctively locked around his waist—and she felt his lips curve in satisfaction. The memory of his distinctive laugh sent her heart lurching.

In one smooth motion, Rubel laid her on the bed. For a moment, he simply stared at her flushed, surprised face as if admiring it.

“Surprised?”

“C-Carrie will be back soon…….”

Rubel scoffed at her belated excuse about the doctor.

“If you’d actually escaped, I would’ve taken it out on that doctor.”

“That’s absurd.”

“Why?”

“You’d never do that.”

“Because I’m one of God’s lions?”

“Yes. Because you’re… Rubel Shinote.”

Her voice dropped slightly, as if displeased. Rubel wasn’t surprised—he knew exactly how people perceived him.

He nodded easily.

“True. There was a time when that would’ve been the case.”

A time?

So not anymore? As Eir frowned, trying to parse his meaning, his lips brushed her furrowed brow. A firm kiss, followed by a trail of softer ones—the tip of her nose, her upper lip, her chin.

Tickled by the onslaught, Eir instinctively turned her head aside, giving Rubel access to her neck.

“I-It tickles…….”

Her embarrassed mumble only prompted him to lick her collarbone. After leaving a biting mark below it, he moved lower, undoing her blouse buttons between brief kisses.

The air between them grew feverish instantly. Unconsciously chasing the excitement of last night, Eir arched her back.

“Mmm…….”

A soft moan escaped before she could bite it back. Just as Rubel moved lower, he paused abruptly.

His gaze fixed on the golden mark glowing at the base of her throat—

The root-shaped witch’s mark. Though he’d finally found what he’d been searching for, he regarded it with startling nonchalance.

Right. This woman is a witch.

Having never forgotten that fact, he felt no surprise now.

After staring intently, he pressed his lips to the mark.

“Didn’t I say I’d fallen into your trap?”

“So?”

Annoyed by his teasing without follow-through, Eir pouted.

Rubel lifted his head, taking in her flushed, pleading expression before capturing her mouth in a deep kiss—tongue tangling, lips sucking, exploring every corner.

Her neck arched under his weight, hands reaching for him instinctively. But rather than taking them, he pulled away as abruptly as he’d come.

“People who’ve fallen into traps don’t act like gentlemen.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Sleep with your clothes properly fastened.”

With that, he stood and was gone in an instant.

Left alone, Eir pouted at the door before flopping back with a frustrated groan.

Carrie returned shortly after, claiming she’d “coincidentally” run into Rubel and fled. Eir swallowed her doubts about that “coincidence” and turned over to sleep.

Of course I’ll keep quiet about Rubel’s visit. Especially from that “ungentlemanly” Rubel Shinote.

***

Time flew, and soon they arrived at the Shinote Ducal Estate.

Having rolled around with the family’s second son, Eir couldn’t possibly feel comfortable approaching. For three days prior, everything she ate came back up, punctuated by constant hiccups.

Rubel scolded her for being in such a state despite having a doctor, while Carrie fluttered about anxiously under his piercing glare. Though Eir repeatedly insisted it wasn’t Carrie’s fault—just nerves about visiting the ducal household—Rubel refused to believe it.

‘What’s there to be nervous about? You won’t even meet my parents.’

‘You’ll stay in my quarters without seeing anyone.’

He shrugged as if it were nothing.

Eir wondered how he planned to introduce a witch into the household, but Rubel dismissed it as his problem to handle.

The massive gates swung open soundlessly as Rubel and his knights approached. Riding deeper in, the ducal mansion came into view—a structure rivaling castles in size.

Though she’d expected something aged and stately, the mansion was startlingly pristine, its white walls appearing freshly built.

At the highest spire, a divine relic gleamed—its holy light presumably protecting the estate not just from darkness, but from time and grime itself.