Why Would a Holy Knight Be Afflicted with Such a Curse? - Side Story Part VI

Throughout the time I sprinkled water from a haunted well onto the petals, a smile unconsciously crept onto my lips.

Of course, their threats held no value to Celesto. In fact, for someone who had spent most of his life in a monastery, it would be stranger if noble status meant anything to him.

But apart from the fact that the Castenor name wasn’t important to Celesto or me, there was something that bothered me.

The fact that it made me feel bad.

Everything just irritated me. The fact that they had cast Celesto out of the line of succession when he was much younger, and now were overly concerned about him—that also pissed me off.

So Celesto and I moved in together first. We even bought an expensive, wide bed so that the news of an unmarried man and woman living together would reach the Castenor earldom.

So now, there was just one thing left—my personal revenge… but Celesto was the problem.

On the day Celesto’s eldest brother came to deliver his father’s notice, I decided to plant this black hellebore in that man’s bedroom.

In fact, I wasn’t doing anything particularly evil. Black hellebore only brings misfortune; it wasn’t a medium that summoned anything major.

Besides, the Castenor family’s hereditary blessings alone were on par with ordinary defensive magic. A proper curse would just be deflected anyway.

‘It’s not for nothing that Celesto managed to get by even while afflicted with the Lust Curse.’

So, to deal with someone from that family, this kind of ambiguous casting was better.

It wouldn’t bring down a proper curse, but minor misfortunes would probably occur.

Things like hitting a knee on a desk, getting a foot caught in a door gap, or cutting a finger on paper.

I had been painstakingly grinding bugs and carefully choosing water to nurture it with such thoughts in mind.

Yet Celesto was only thinking about breaking this flower pot.

He even always goes to the estate alone!

My hand gripping the watering can trembled.

Having been in and out of the place countless times as a child, I knew the Castañor estate inside out. I had already decided where to transplant the black hellebore.

But there was a problem. I couldn’t enter the estate alone.

If I were still a daughter of the Balseren earldom, maybe. But I couldn’t just barge into a place I hadn’t been invited to.

Besides, being a devout family, the Castenors rarely held parties. As far as I knew, most of their social activities were religious gatherings.

The miscellaneous skills I had learned as a taboo scholar were also mostly useless. I couldn’t exactly sneak in carrying a pot filled with ill intent into a neighborhood teeming with religious facilities.

So, I wished Celesto would take me at least as far as the estate—preferably as far as the mansion.

Naturally, Celesto didn’t seem to have any intention of doing so.

I know you’re worried about me going there and hearing strange things… but do I seem like someone who gets upset over that kind of thing?

But arguing about this was pointless. Celesto had always been a person with too many useless thoughts.

And it wasn’t as if there was no way at all.

“…Hehe.”

I turned my gaze to the dress hanging by the window. The crimson dress, dyed with abundant high-quality pigments, sparkled in the sunlight.

***

The carriage arrived at the Castenor estate late in the evening.

It was a little later than the scheduled time, but that was actually better. The more crowded the hour, the higher the chance that the family members would just let it slide.

It’s hard to make a big scene in front of people.

Humming a tune, I stepped down from the carriage.

The servant who had approached to verify the attendees stopped short. It had been only a few years, but my face was too familiar to have been forgotten.

Before the servant could say anything more, I handed over the item I was carrying. A meticulously wrapped painting. A donation for today’s party.

“It’s a sacred painting of Orelio. Perfect for the occasion, don’t you think?”

At my words, the servant was silent for a moment.

He seemed torn between driving away the woman who had caused Celesto to leave the knighthood, and accepting a donation that was perfect for the charity party.

I didn’t wait for the servant’s answer. Instead, I walked along the path leading to the rear garden where the party was being held.

Seeing me head toward the garden rather than the central hall where people’s attention would be focused, the servant seemed relieved and turned away.

He seemed to have judged that I hadn’t come to disrupt the biannual charity party out of resentment toward the count and countess who opposed my marriage.

That wasn’t wrong.

But it also wasn’t entirely right.