Violet Blooming in Patronage

It was an absurd gamble. But he had no choice but to do so. If he made the Saintess put strength on the shoulders of the papal faction, this side would have to draw the Saintess toward them. Most of the Saintesses were born to aristocratic girls. Occasionally there were commoners, but they were all disciplined in the temple. If they were the ladies of the aristocracy, they could stay at home until they came of age.

And taking advantage of its loopholes, Ermengart adopted the Saintess. Originally, the people of the land belonged to the landlord, so he had the right to claim this ownership. It was an unprecedented situation. This was the case with the Saintess who was found in the lower house, but adopting the Saintess couldn't have made sense. The high priest was furious with his beards quivering, and the Marquis of Ermengart spoke blatantly.

"If I hurt her, I have to accept her as my daughter and pay her back. She lost her parents because of me, so I should be responsible. High Priest Dublin, you asked how I will be held accountable? This is my answer."

The Duke of Tigernan has not yet been able to come because he is staying in the Papal States or the Duchy, so he has to push it into the gap and finish it quickly. If the Duke was here, he would take the Saintess by all means. Perhaps even the armed forces are ready.

Because of this, the Marquis of Ermengart was stubborn. He claimed the ownership of his citizen and said that he would not hand her over to the temple. The people of the land's right or the priesthood? If the rights of the temple come first here, the papal aristocracy will also be eating their flesh. In the end, even the papalists could not stubbornly oppose it, and only the priests who did not own the land raised their voices. And in the meantime, the King had summoned the Saintess. He hoped this gamble succeeds. However, the King was skeptical of using the power of the Saintess to press the Pope. But it was better to have a hand here, even if it was not effective, than to use the best hand others had. If an insignificant hand acts as the best hand for the opponent, it would be better to stop it.

No, of course, how effective would this Saintess be for them? Seeing her awkward gait while wearing the dress, the royal capital, the nobles, and even the priests laughed. The little girl shrugged her shoulders and tucked her neck in, unable to raise her head at all. If it wasn't for the stigma on her forehead and her appearance, they would never have thought she was the Saintess.

But she pointed to Ermengart without any hesitation. In fact, no matter how stupid she was, if she knew she was the Saintess, she would have chosen the temple. But the girl at that time really decided to choose the marquis, as if someone had given her a revelation.

There was no one above the Saintess in this country. Even the Pope had no choice but to follow the saint's formal opinion. The King's gamble was a success. The foolish, ignorant little girl raised her hand.

***

Violet raised her gaze and lowered them. She couldn't even bring herself to face it. They said she had to choose where she was going to be. She made a choice, but she had a gut feeling that neither of the two would be comfortable.

"The Saintess."

Violet looked at the man standing in front of the carriage, startled by the voice of the man. The gaze of a big middle-aged man like a bear with dark blue hair was so impressive that it stings. The man with deep eyes like the winter sea looked at her with a blunt face. There was not a grain of goodwill nor affection.

"There are no women in our house."

He said. It was a blunt conversation. What do you mean there's no woman?

"Are there no women? There were a lot."

The Marquis sighed with a wry look on his face as she spoke in thought of the servants. Did I do something wrong? She glanced into his eyes.

"It means that there are no female adults in the family except for the servants."

Violet still couldn't figure out what that meant. With her eyes wide open, she was puzzled, then when she saw the Marquis' face, which seemed to be speechless, Violet bowing her head in gloom again. Seeing that the Marquis said.

"But I'll make sure that there is no shortage of serving."

Violet bowed her head. This kindness was burdensome. Apparently, a high nobleman, who wouldn't even look at her when he was on the Flower Street said he was serving her now. Violet understood the situation in her own way. She scrambled up to a position where she shouldn't have been. She bowed her head. She didn't know what was being and what wasn't. She felt uncomfortable. It felt like it was loaded with something. She thought something was going to come out. She swallowed her words. The marquis looked out of the window without looking at her. The moonlight shone through the narrow window inside the carriage.

*

Violet, who entered the marquise again, wandered in search of Finn. As soon as she saw Finn, Violet ran and held her hand tightly, and the Marquis winked. The butler said.

"I think you should serve the Saintess."

Finn bowed her head and spoke fondly.

"Did you hear that, Saintess? Now I'm here to serve the Saintess."

Violet nodded silently. Perhaps a little relieved, there was a smile on Violet's face. The Marquis was watching it without saying a word.

"Wouldn't it be better to introduce her to the young masters?"

"Tomorrow morning."

He said so briefly and went back. Violet looked at him like that, and she bowed down.

"Saintess, don't do that!"

"......"

Violet was startled at the butler's shout. The Marquis did not know what Violet had done, but soon saw the butler and noticed what had happened. The Marquis approached and said.

"Do you understand, Saintess?"

"......"

"You are the most honored woman in this country. The only thing on par with the Saintess is His Majesty the King and the Pope."

"......"

"So you shouldn't bow to me."

Violet seemed to have done something wrong. But she was encouraged. Her voice was as small as a whimpering puppy's moan, but it sounded so clear because everyone was paying attention to her.

"Ha... But isn't the Marquis my father?"

The Marquis seemed to be perplexed by her words.

"Is it wrong to say good night to your father?"

Violet's question was a clean question without any intentions mixed in. The Marquis seemed at a loss for words for a moment. He looked away for a moment and said.

"No, it's not wrong."

"......"

The Marquis glanced at Violet's face and he said.

"Good night, Saintess."

He said so and raised his hand to stroke her head. As the heavy hands filled her vision and reached over her head, she flinched, thinking he was going to hit her like a habit. Seeing this, the marquis removed his hand. And she turned around without a word.

*

"Come on, change your clothes, Saintess."

Violet's cumbersome clothes were removed again, and she put on a comfortable pajama. As she looked up at her without saying a word, Finn smiled and trimmed Violet's long hair.

"Now that I think about it, it's really amazing, when you came here, your whole body was covered with scars, but it's clean with no scars. Is this the power of the saintess?"

Come to think of it, Violet had been beaten severely by Grandma Goth and collapsed. Her wrist, which had always been bruised to block the club, was clean without a scratch. She rolled up her loose sleeves. Roll up her skirt and her thighs. But her mottled body was as white as flour. Come to think of it, she didn't feel the pain she always had with every movement of her body.

"The Saintess doesn't talk much."

"......"

Finn stroked Violet's hair, which had closed her mouth, and laid her down on the bed. Despite the soft and fluffy touch, she rolled her eyes anxiously. Violet could not understand the environment that had changed in just one day. She still remembered the bodies of Rose and Lina lying headless. It would be nice if those two were still alive. Lina and Rose probably wouldn't believe that she has met His Majesty the King.

"Good night."

Finn stroked Violet's head and headed outside. Soon after, the candle went out, and darkness came to the room. The moonlight was pouring in from under the window, illuminating the bed blue. She, who has always slept in the attic, enjoys this luxury because the God has chosen her. For the first time, she thought, thought, and thought about what had happened to her. And that the Flower Street was destroyed by fire, that she would never be able to return again, that there was no one to rely on her heart in this changed environment, God must have made a mistake. Perhaps God should have chosen another girl, not her. No, actually, something must be wrong.

The room left alone was quiet. The room was too spacious. Drip, a few tears fell in her eyes. Once the tears were shed,they continued to flow uncontrollably. But she couldn't cry. If she cried again, cold eyes would pour out. Even if she cried now, there was nothing to comfort her. She missed her mom. She missed her sisters who always comforted her even when she was beaten by the Grandma Goth. This room was so spacious and scary. The fear and loneliness in the new situation made the girl tremble and sob.