Thiendavis – For The Perfect Salvation

Chapter 19: Zion Could Hardly Believe It**

"The conclusion must have already been reached if you'd go so far as to marry your butler just to rent a room."

The count's voice was monotonous as ever, filled with unmistakable arrogance. Evie grew increasingly weary of the count's demeanor.

She had expected him to be at least a bit flustered, but he responded in such a confident manner.

Evie thought to herself that he was not at all cute and managed a polite smile.

"I thought you preferred to conceal your identity, Count."

"Yet you still entered this household knowing that. A thoroughly calculating personality, I see."

Despite Evie's gentle tone, the count's response bordered on sarcasm and interrogation.

"You'd better do your calculations again if you think you've caught me in a weakness."

The count folded his arms with a scornful air.

Despite wearing glasses that might have softened his appearance, he remained intimidating, glaring with unyielding sharpness.

Evie maintained her smile while gritting her teeth in secret.

'Diez was right.'

Diez had advised her to approach the count with caution and restraint, emphasizing that provoking him could be detrimental to their side.

Indeed, the count's current attitude confirmed that sentiment.

This situation posed neither a weakness nor a threat to him.

After all, who would fault a grand noble for secretly residing in a rural village?

Negligence of duty, desertion from the frontlines?

Such offenses required higher authorities to indict him.

'To suggest a weakness is misplaced. The count has nothing which could be leveraged against him. Even if there were, I am powerless to act upon it.'

Thus, Evie pulled her shawl snugly over her chest and spoke as deferentially as possible.

"I never expected to meet the count in such a place. If you suspect I followed you, count, that would be a misunderstanding."

"Rest assured, I do not overestimate you to that degree."

"...Indeed, I lack the means to follow the count. Our encounter was purely coincidental, and it was an opportunity to seek your understanding."

Despite the count's cold demeanor, Evie continued speaking sincerely.

The count's head tilted slightly, as if willing to hear more of what she had to say.

Evie persevered through the unwavering arrogance and kept speaking.

"I saw you earlier, how you interacted with the children."

'When the kids asked for the ball, you just threw it away—how mean.'

"Although brief, you seemed genuinely happy. It gave me a glimpse of what might be your cherished daily life."

'Yes. Negligence of duty, desertion—such things were no issue for the count. Just wielding his power should silence any complaints.'

'But what about in this village?'

'You settled here two years ago and have been teaching the children.'

'Moreover, you're known for your bad temper.'

'Someone who could live like an emperor chose this modest life, why?'

Evie didn’t find it difficult to infer the answer.

In Thiendavis too, there are sometimes eccentrics disenchanted with noble life.

Those unusual individuals who, owning too much, find such a life meaningless and throw tantrums.

Evie believed Zion Laurel was clearly in that category and decided this would be her leverage for negotiation.

"Everyone needs a stable life, but I haven't been able to live like before since the count left Thienda."

'More accurately, since you abruptly left after declaring something so merciless.'

Even recalling it made Evie seethe, but she recalled Diez's advice about maintaining boundaries and pleaded.

"So, I wish to seek leniency from the count. You're the only one who can restore my lifestyle. And I believe the count knows the value of daily life more than anyone."

Evie concluded her plea and cautiously looked up at the count—only to be taken aback.

For once, the count was smiling.

No, looking again, it was quite a suitable smile.

The smile confined to the corners of his mouth was sardonic, expressing a sense of mockery.

"You say I know the importance of daily life more than anyone."

The count repeated her closing words, wearing that ironic smile.

"If I don't retract my declaration, will you ruin your daily life as well? Is this a threat, perhaps?"

"It's not entirely wrong."

Evie, due to the curse, answered truthfully but remained undaunted.

No matter how tactfully one puts it, the meaning doesn't really change, and a formidable count wasn’t likely to fall easily, so it was best to acknowledge what needed acknowledgment.

The count's smile deepened.

Evie felt a slight fear but equally a stubborn resolve.

'For all your misdeeds, isn't this mild threat just a cute jest?'

She thought.

She also wanted to earnestly persuade him.

'You've lived here for two years, even teaching the children. It must be a significant place to you too. Why not concede a little?'

Evie gazed earnestly at the count as she pondered this.

The count erased his smile and asked.

"Have you not given up on the position of the saintess yet?"

"No."

"I thought you'd given up and were aimlessly traveling."

The count murmured, sounding genuinely surprised, while Evie pondered what he meant.

Perplexed, she finally comprehended and widened her eyes.

The count assumed Evie had already abandoned the position of the saintess.

So, he presumed her visit to this village was a sort of refuge.

Yet now, Evie, mentioning daily life and urging retraction of the declaration, revealed she was still fighting, which made him laugh in ridicule.

Evie was astounded by the count's attitude.

She had assumed he was oblivious given his confidence, but he clearly understood how much his declaration had troubled her.

Thus, he presumed Evie had already relinquished the saintess status.

"If you haven't given up the role of the saintess, why come here?"

"I had some spare time, so I briefly visited."

She didn’t want to answer, yet her mouth moved on its own, so she hastily concocted an excuse.

"...Initially, I was on my way to the frontier to meet you and seek for your leniency, count."

"You almost wasted your effort."

"Who wasted the effort, might I ask?"

Evie asked, incredulously.

"The waste of effort in not meeting you, count, or in failing to receive leniency is what I meant?"

"Both sides, likely. You've already made the effort fruitless tonight in the sense of not receiving leniency."

The count's unapologetic response made Evie's heart crumple.

Grasping at straws, she had pleaded in desperation, yet it hadn't been effective in the slightest.

Instead, she was flatly rebuffed.

Evie began feeling increasingly indignant.

What was her grave error?

...Well, she had erred, but that was due to the curse.

And besides, from the start, this scoundrel was swinging Evie around for his dubious reasons, not because of any fault on her part.

At the utter irrationality of it all, Evie bit her lip, lowering her head as if to prevent herself from cursing or biting the count.

Evie remained silent with pursed lips when the count spoke unexpectedly.

"The social circles of Thiendavis exhibit a lighthearted manner and poor memory, thus they will soon forget this matter with the right catalyst."

The count began in a strangely moderated tone.

"But that place is far from the stable life you spoke of. What the nobles desire is your ability alone, and when its value decays, Thiendavis will easily discard you."

Evie blinked in confusion at the count's sudden commentary, perplexed by the unexpected discourse.

"Even as a saintess, it remains the same. Seizing that position without solid grounding only subjects you to exploitation, and that is not the difficult individual you aspire to emulate."

As she listened, Evie found his words hurt a bit.

She looked at the count with a soft gaze.

The count wore an earnest expression.

If not for his past actions, it could almost be seen as concern.

Seeing Evie looking confused, the count asked in an unconcerned tone.

"Am I wrong?"

"You’re not wrong."

"Then why do you look so wronged?"

"Because of you!"

Evie blurted out before reflexively covering her mouth.

The count earnestly asked in response to her honest outburst.

"What exactly is my fault—"

"Stop asking!"

In a fluster, Evie attempted to silence the count by blocking his words, as she had done before.

But unlike before, she couldn't bring him down this time.

The count had quickly grabbed her wrists, unwilling to fall for it a second time.

Thus, Evie was caught by the count, unable to move.

Evie tried to pull her arms free a few times, but the count didn’t budge.

Frustrated, Evie looked up angrily at the count.

Zion, seen from her teary gaze, secretly worried about making her cry.

Earlier, when she kept her head down silently, he worried she might be crying.

Zion decided he didn't want to make Evie cry while he watched her.

Yet, a part of him was curious to see her cry at least once.

So stubborn yet fragile, Evie Ariate, despite her lack of wisdom.

Zion remained uncertain.

What should he do with what she held so dear, and what did he truly want?

As he mulled over Evie's close-to-tears face, Zion noticed her thin pajama fabric beneath and stifled a sigh.

Evie, feeling his gaze shift, whispered tensely.

"Let go of my arms."

Her voice hinting that she was at her limit.

Thus Zion thought he should release her if he had no intention of bringing her to tears.

But then, an unexpected voice pierced the air.

"Who's in the kitchen?"

It was Mrs. Marso's voice.

Evie's earlier shout had apparently woken Mrs. Marso.

As her room was right by the kitchen, Zion immediately stepped back, releasing Evie's wrists.

While he thought of a plausible excuse, another unexpected event followed.

Evie Ariate, suddenly free, did not retreat but instead held onto him, burying her head against his back.

As Evie's forehead touched his back, Zion initially thought of shaking her off.

But Evie desperately shook her head, silently pleading.

By the time Madame Marso reached the kitchen, Evie had ducked her head further between his shoulder blades.

The sensation of a small animal burrowing warmed Zion's back, surprising him.

Yet he could not bring himself to push her away and decided to stand, as Evie intended.

Thus, Evie's slight form was entirely hidden behind Zion.

Not fully appeased, Evie gripped the fabric of Zion's clothes.

Zion clenched his fists unwittingly but managed to relax.

It was simply incredulous.

His back vividly felt this small warm creature, yet Zion could hardly believe it.

The reality that Evie Ariate had resolved to hide behind Zion, to shield herself from Mrs. Marso's eyes.

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