Chapter 133
A deep smile rested on the man’s face. Watching the scene unfold, Lake nearly forgot himself and almost sighed in admiration. Vigros was an absurdly handsome man. And the dangerous aura he wore like a suit of armor gave him a strange, irresistible allure that made it impossible to look away.
‘Even while watching something this horrific.’
Lake clicked his tongue.
The carriage, already swept away by the torrential rain, had been reduced to a miserable wreck. The screams of the woman trapped inside echoed eerily through the forest. Aaaah!
Tsk, tsk. What a foolish woman. She probably didn’t even understand why this was happening to her.
Watching the carriage spin helplessly through the raging storm, Lake turned his gaze toward the man casually drawing circles in the air with a finger.
His deathly pale face made it obvious he had overused his power, while his crimson lips, standing in stark contrast, held a chilling madness.
‘No matter how many times I see it, I’ll never get used to that power. Well… not that it matters.’
Watching his master slowly open his eyes, Lake quietly took a step backward.
“You dared lay a hand on my saint?”
To think that the price for throwing a single cup of water was the possibility of being dragged under and drowned. It was exactly like the foul-tempered man he served, someone who wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d beaten a person senseless on a rainy day and killed them for good measure.
And today’s incident would never reach Lady Iora’s ears.
Seeing a man capable of committing every atrocity imaginable put on a gentle smile and pretend to be kind whenever he stood before that prim, intelligent young lady was enough to send chills down Lake’s spine.
“My lord.”
“I want to kill her, but I suppose I can’t.”
“It wouldn’t do to attract unnecessary attention. Be sure to clean everything up before you return. You may play until you’ve vented your anger, but then you are coming straight back. No wandering off. And especially no sneaking away to spend the entire night with Lady Iora!”
“Shut up. Get lost.”
He had no intention of staying any longer. Smirking to himself, Lake pulled the scroll from inside his coat and ripped it cleanly in half.
He didn’t know what had happened to Lady Iora earlier that day, but judging by the way she had cursed the Crown Prince by name, Vigros was now nothing more than a man driven mad by jealousy.
And the wisest course of action was not to provoke a man like that.
Soon, only the man’s cackling laughter remained, along with the utterly impossible sight of a carriage and a towering column of water shooting high into the sky.
Aaaah! Accompanied by someone’s scream.
* * *
Iora had been confined to her room. Well, it wasn’t exactly surprising.
The door slammed shut with a bang, but unlike before, it no longer frightened her. If anything, she was only surprised that her enraged father hadn’t stormed in immediately to beat her.
The news arrived a little later, brought by Shana, who cautiously poked her head through the doorway. The carriage carrying that aunt of hers had overturned, and both her father and mother had rushed to the scene.
The moment she heard it, Iora couldn’t help but marvel. In this godforsaken world of <The Saint’s Flower>, could something that felt like a blessing from the heavens actually happen?
“Ah.”
Normally, when she was locked inside her room, she wouldn’t be given so much as a sip of water. Naturally, there would be no meals either.
But waiting to greet her was an ornate basket filled with all kinds of glossy, gleaming fruit. It seemed the gentleman crow had paid another visit. A soft smile spread across her face. Walking over, she fully opened the half-covered basket, and a fragrant aroma immediately drifted toward her.
The first thing that caught her eye was a plump, crimson apple. She carefully picked it up and brought it to her nose. It smelled wonderfully fresh.
Unable to hold back her smile, she took a crisp bite. The cool, sweet juice that filled her mouth instantly whetted her appetite. Ah… delicious.
Crunch. The refreshing sound echoed through the room, and before she knew it, Iora had finished the entire apple, as though she hadn’t realized just how hungry she had been.
Only then did she notice a postcard tucked inside the basket. She had no idea what it was supposed to mean. It depicted a scene of pouring rain.
‘Do people normally send postcards like this?’
What an unusual taste. Muttering to herself, she turned the postcard over. Scrawled across the back in hurried handwriting was a single sentence. It was simple. ‘You did very well.’
Without realizing it, Iora rubbed her ear.
It felt as though that low, gentle voice were speaking right beside her.
“Really, when did you watch me again…?”
She should have been in a foul mood, and yet she still wasn’t angry.
When she pictured herself laughing like a madwoman as she splashed wine over them, perhaps that man would have been the one applauding her, telling her she’d done well. The image suited him so perfectly it was almost absurd.
He would have lounged there, idly swinging his pale feet as though he were some fairy, smiling in that soft, unhurried way of his. His eyes would have curved gently as he murmured his praise.
Even while everyone else pointed at her and called her insane, Vigros alone would have remained perfectly calm, his lips curling in quiet amusement.
You did well, Iora.
Just like the words written on that postcard.
Tracing the edge of the card with her fingertips, Iora whispered:
“My terrifyingly dependable mastermind….”
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