~Prologue~
A faint pain pulsed from her wrist. Cold air crept into her clothes.
“Ugh… mm…”
A broken groan escaped Floria’s lips.
But her eyes wouldn’t open. Her entire body felt heavy, like something was weighing her down.
Her trembling eyelids finally lifted after a long while.
Still, her blurry vision made it hard to understand what was happening.
Actually, no matter how many times she blinked, she couldn’t see anything—
If her eyes weren’t the problem, it meant the room itself was completely sealed off from light.
She couldn’t move at all. Her back leaned against a cold wall, and her hands were tied tightly behind her.
‘…What is this?’
Floria carefully touched the floor near her. Ew. She felt a wet puddle—it was gross. Her forehead creased.
‘What happened to me?’
It was impossible to make sense of anything right away.
Her head was spinning so badly, she couldn’t remember a thing.
The only thing that stood out was the dull pain at the back of her head…
Ah. It came back to her.
She had been trying to escape after the high priest said he would officially declare her a saintess.
And someone had snuck up behind her and knocked her out with something heavy.
She’d only taken one small bag when she ran away in a rush…
That memory made her want to rub the back of her head, but her tied-up hands couldn’t do a thing.
Then suddenly, a low voice echoed in the darkness.
“So, you’re finally awake… Saintess Floria.”
She blinked, startled.
This was not the time to calmly try to understand the situation—
She had clearly been kidnapped!
Her eyes were slowly adjusting to the dark. She saw the outline of someone sitting in a chair.
She was about to ask who it was—but stopped.
That voice. That calm, almost gentle tone…
She’d heard it before. Often, in fact.
“You’re not going to answer? I didn’t think things were so cold between us. I’m a bit hurt.”
“……!”
Floria’s body trembled as she finally recognized the voice.
The man sitting confidently with his legs crossed in front of her was Caspal Vonhas.
‘…That bastard.’
She had hoped—prayed—that it wasn’t him.
A duke chasing after her, a lowly priest, saying he had feelings for her? Ridiculous.
Even in this pitch-black place, his dark hair and rare golden-yellow eyes were still striking.
He’d seemed like a bit of a lunatic from the start, but with that handsome face constantly appearing before her, she had let her guard down.
Even if he hadn’t existed in the original story, she should have been more careful.
She’d been too naive.
Floria bit down on her lower lip.
Caspal’s golden eyes gleamed with amusement as he looked at her face.
“Floria, my master sent a letter. Would you like me to read it?”
“……”
Even in this twisted situation, Caspal looked completely relaxed.
Floria glared at him, then slowly shifted her gaze downward.
Following his motion, she saw his hand holding a piece of paper—probably the letter.
He always wore black gloves.
Back when he showed her the scars on his fingers, he had tried to win her sympathy, telling her with a sad face that he used to be a slave…
Her tied hands clenched. But the ropes only dug deeper into her skin.
Caspal stared at her for a long while, maybe waiting for a response, then casually gestured behind him.
Click.
A sudden light flashed on, and Floria squinted, barely able to keep her eyes open.
As her vision adjusted, she realized something terrifying—
There were dozens of people standing behind Caspal.
And each of them was holding a massive weapon.
Some were even glaring at her while wiping down their blades with cloths.
The sharp glint of metal reflected the light so harshly that it hurt her eyes.
‘No way…’
Her body started shaking. A horrible thought began forming in her mind.
And then—
“I wanted you to read it yourself, but I forgot your hands are tied. What a shame,”
Caspal said in his usual calm voice, his eyes drooping as if genuinely disappointed.
His relaxed face didn’t match the threatening presence of the armed people behind him.
He cleared his throat and began reading the letter aloud, his voice low and unbothered:
“Caspal. A saintess who can’t be brainwashed is useless to us. Kill her yourself.”
“……!”
The sender’s name wasn’t shown, but the writing style clearly belonged to a high noble.
All hope vanished from Floria.
She had still held on to a tiny bit of hope—but now she knew. This was her grave.
Her head dropped to the ground.
‘So I’m going to die here from overwork… just like in my past life.’
It wasn’t fair. All she could think of were the memories of people calling her a saint, making her work nonstop, with no sleep.
‘At least this time it’s not from exhaustion…’
That was all she could do—justify it with a sad thought.
Whether he knew what she was thinking or not, Caspel casually stood up.
He knelt in front of her.
“Saintess Floria. Do you want to die?”
“What kind of question is that in this situation?”
Oops. She had said her honest thoughts out loud.
Floria was shocked but then became bold. She was going to die anyway—so what?
“I don’t want to die… sir.”
But her mouth moved on its own, saying it politely. Her eyes glared like she wanted to kill him, but her voice was soft.
“You’re even wearing the ring properly. Good girl.”
Wait. Something felt off.
Caspel smiled brightly, like he’d just heard the answer he wanted.
He looked at the cheap yellow ring on her finger.
Floria was confused, but before she could say anything, he pulled out his sword.
It looked like he was about to cut her neck.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
Slicc—
“…?”
It wasn’t right in front of her.
It sounded like slicing thin wood and metal clashing.
There was no pain. No stab wound.
Am I already dead? She wondered. She tried to open her eyes—
“Don’t open your eyes.”
She shut them tight again.
There were faint screams in the distance.
Then everything fell silent. Only Floria, Caspel, and quiet remained.
“….”
“You can breathe now.”
A soft voice broke the silence.
Only then did she realize she had been holding her breath.
She gasped.
And tried to open her eyes again—
“Don’t. Open. Them.”
Not that it mattered—his big hand was covering her eyes.
She suddenly felt her body lift from the ground.
Caspel was carrying her.
“What is this?!”
“It’s all taken care of, master.”
…Master?
Then he took his hand off her eyes.
But instead of letting her look around, he held her face close to his—locking her gaze on only him.
His golden eyes, like Jewel’s, now glowed with madness.
“You bought me for 20,000 shillings. Right, master?”
What the hell are you talking about, you lunatic…?
Her lips couldn’t move.
In that moment, all the tension left Floria’s body, and she fainted in his arms.
