Chapter 35: Chapter 35: The Convent’s Ring

Chapter 35

Though snow did not fall, a biting wind swept through the air.

Erich knocked on the door of the convent, nestled at the foot of the Northern Mountains.

In truth, it was a place he had little desire to visit.

“Who is it? This is a convent,” a woman asked, opening the door.

She adjusted her glasses, her gaze sweeping over Erich.

“I know,” Erich replied, his voice flat. “Open the door.”

“Men cannot enter without the Mother Superior’s permission.”

He lifted the hood of his robe slightly, revealing his face, yet the woman showed no sign of recognition.

Erich then produced a parchment, stamped with the Emperor’s seal, from within his robe and pressed it into her hand.

The woman, a nun despite not wearing a habit, glanced at the document.

“This letter certifies that the bearer is the envoy of Erich Winb, owner of the Winb Northern Protection Convent,” she read aloud, her voice growing increasingly strained. “The convent shall receive and welcome him without delay…”

As her eyes scanned the words, they widened in disbelief. After triple-checking the Emperor’s seal, she hastily ushered him inside.

“You are His Majesty’s envoy! Please, come in. What is your name, sir?”

“Erich.”

Erich brushed off the stray twigs clinging to his robe as he stepped into the convent.

He then removed the heavy garment, tossing it casually into the woman’s arms.

“What? Not His Majesty’s name, but… *your* name?”

“Erich Winb. Where is Anel?”

Having stated his name with an air of indifference, Erich immediately inquired about his second fiancée.

The woman, clutching both the imperial parchment and Erich’s discarded robe, stiffened as if struck by a sudden paralysis.

Her legs gave out, and she stumbled, collapsing onto the ground.

“Y-you mean… you’ve come all the way to the convent, now…?” she stammered, her voice tinged with despair.

Her face crumpled into a tearful grimace, an expression of utter terror, as if she had been forced into an unwanted encounter.

This reaction was so familiar to Erich that he felt no inclination to anger.

He simply reached down, pulling the kneeling woman’s collar upward, and repeated his question.

“Where is Anel?”

****

The interior of the convent, established by nobles, was so profoundly antiquated that any claim of pursuing a humble life seemed utterly farcical.

The Winb Northern Protection Convent, personally constructed by the Winb Imperial Family, was no exception.

Despite being built in a secluded mountain foot, it rivaled the grandest and most opulent mansions of renowned nobles in the capital.

Yet, even within such a magnificent edifice, more modest structures could be found.

Passing through the lavish main hall and winding corridors, Erich eventually arrived at a humble chapel tucked away in a quiet corner of the convent.

Beyond another door lay a small, private prayer room where nuns offered their devotions. Anel was there.

“Anel.”

“…!”

Hearing the familiar voice, Anel turned her head, and the moment her eyes registered Erich, she froze, rigid as a statue.

Frozen in her prayerful posture, unable to even utter his name, Anel quickly regained her composure.

“It has been a long time, Your Majesty.”

Anel rose, then gracefully knelt, clasping her hands together as she greeted Erich with utmost deference.

“It seems you’ve finally come to your senses,” he remarked.

“It is thanks to your benevolent care, Your Majesty.”

“Let’s dispense with these stiff formalities between us,” Erich said, waving a dismissive hand. “It appears your health has recovered considerably.”

When he had last seen her, her black hair had been a wild tangle, and her skin, dry and rough, made her appear quite pathetic.

Now, however, her ink-black hair flowed elegantly past her shoulder blades, and her face had filled out, giving her a healthy, vibrant appearance.

Her once downcast green eyes, no longer wandering aimlessly, looked directly up at Erich with newfound clarity.

Erich, observing the recovered Anel, let his gaze fall upon her lustrous black hair.

“So, it was black hair,” he mused aloud. “What a pity.”

“Pardon?”

“My hair is white, you see.”

“Yes.”

Anel touched her long black hair, her expression one of utter bewilderment.

As if she should have understood, Erich naturally chided her.

“If we stood side by side, we would have been a stark contrast of black and white, wouldn’t we? I just thought Evening would have found it a waste.”

“Evening…?”

Anel, completely unaware of any conversation between Evening and Erich, wore an awkward, confused expression.

Seeing her distressed face, unable to even guess what he meant, Erich snapped back to reality.

‘What a careless thing to say to someone who doesn’t even know Evening,’ he thought.

He was exasperated that Evening’s trivial nonsense—about Greg and Lucia making a good pair due to their contrasting black and white hair—had lingered in his mind and resurfaced so naturally.

“Never mind,” Erich said, dismissing the thought. “It was just a trivial remark.”

“Yes.”

A somber silence settled between them, heavy and profound.

Erich gestured for Anel, who was still kneeling and looking up at him, to rise.

“You may rise now.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Anel bowed deeply, as if his permission were a divine grace, then slowly and gracefully rose to her feet.

His second fiancée, Anel, was a truly proper woman in this regard.

Hailing from a humble family, she had always served Erich with unwavering deference.

Even when he assured her it was unnecessary, she remained unfailingly polite, never once overstepping proper boundaries.

This extreme deference, however, had led her to suppress her feelings for Erich, suffering in silence, to the point of self-harm.

“In any case, it’s a relief to see you looking healthy,” Erich stated. “Your father will be relieved as well.”

“I always feel deeply sorry for having caused trouble,” Anel replied, her voice soft. “Yet, I am simply grateful for your continued care.”

After her engagement to Erich was broken, Anel had been sent to this convent.

Branded by the annulled engagement, she was fated never to meet another man and could not leave the convent at will.

Her destiny was to live out her life confined within this secluded convent in the sparsely populated north.

Despite this harsh fate, she remained unfailingly grateful to Erich, never once expressing a hint of resentment.

“Is life here tolerable?” Erich asked, a hint of irony in his tone. “There are many people in similar circumstances, so you can just spend your time cursing me.”

“What! That’s not true, Your Majesty,” Anel exclaimed, her composure briefly faltering. “Everyone here is a woman prepared for Your Majesty.

They all await Your Majesty, never forgetting their profound respect, and pray for your happiness morning and night.”

“You need to learn how to flatter better,” Erich retorted, a wry smile playing on his lips. “Evening flatters without even wetting her lips, but you’re a mess.”

“I apologize,” Anel said, startled by Erich’s words, immediately bowing her head.

It was an apology that left an uncomfortable feeling.

While she said “I apologize” and seemed to praise Erich just as Evening would, Anel’s demeanor did not evoke the same wry amusement in him.

Although her subservience seemed outwardly similar, dealing with Anel made him feel as though he were tormenting a pathetic, sickly child.

“The people here have every right to curse me,” Erich stated, his voice low. “They’ve been confined to this mountain foot because of me.”

“No, Your Majesty. Everyone serves you with all their heart.”

“Really? There’s a woman waiting for me? I’m curious who that might be,” Erich said, feigning to look around the empty chapel.

Though only he and Anel were inside, nuns gathered in hushed conversations by the door and in the corridor, peeking in.

All were young, of pleasing appearance, of noble lineage, and unmarried, without lovers.

“Tell me seriously. If there truly is someone, I might not be opposed to taking them as a lover.”

“…”

Anel’s clasped hands before her chest tightened considerably.

Her silent stillness and tense expression served as a complete answer.

“So, there’s no one like that, then. Aren’t you glad I didn’t come here?”

He glared at the women huddled together at the chapel door, women who were once destined to be his lovers.

He had not wanted to come to this convent.

The Winb Northern Protection Convent was Erich’s palace, created by the Empress Dowager.

The women gathered here were either high-ranking nobles’ illegitimate children, third or fourth children unable to inherit titles or land, or survivors from families whose entire lineage had been executed.

It was a place where women, forced into vows of celibacy for the sake of magical monopoly or to prevent complicated succession lines, feigned being nuns against their will.

If it were merely feigning nunhood, it would be no different from any other convent, but this place had one additional, distinct role.

The women gathered here were Erich’s women, handpicked by the Empress Dowager for him.

The Empress Dowager, who had opposed her magic-less son becoming Emperor, had built a convent for Erich to reside in on secluded land.

She had built the convent in the north, out of public sight, and provided him with women and wealth so he could enjoy a comfortable retirement.

That a mother would go to such lengths for her son…

The more he thought about it, the more pathetic and ridiculous it seemed, making him not want to dwell on it.

The most irritating fact was that none of the women gathered here were waiting for him.

He had learned of the convent’s existence when searching for a suitable place to send Anel, and from then until now, no one here had awaited Erich.

These women, fated to be interred with Erich once he descended from the throne, merely submitted to their fate; none reached out to him.

Just like Anel before him.

Even without resorting to malice, they would fear and struggle against him, ultimately leading to their own ruin.

A somber silence hung in the air.

After an uncomfortably long silence, Anel was the first to speak.

“Your Majesty, what business brings you to seek me out?”

Anel’s voice was polite but devoid of cheerfulness, a stark contrast to Evening’s manner, which, though seemingly polite, was always bright.

Her quiet question roused Erich.

He pointed to Anel’s empty hand, unadorned as befitting a humble nun.

“I came for the ring.”

“The ring?”

“I’m sorry to take it back after saying I’d give it to you, but would you return it? If you need something in its place, I’ll give you anything you wish.”

“No, it’s quite alright. I’ll retrieve it at once.”

As the Emperor’s fiancée, she had received various gifts, but there was only one ring he would come to reclaim.

Anel bowed and left the chapel.

Anel returned, cradling a small metal jewelry box in her arms.

As she unlocked the box, a ring set with a large diamond immediately caught the eye.

Anel unhesitatingly took out the ring and offered it to Erich.

“I had always wanted to return it to you.”

Receiving the ring, Erich gazed at the large, transparent diamond that appeared almost white.

Around the grand diamond, tiny emeralds sparkled like scattered grains of sand.

A bright platinum gold ring, like Evening’s hair.

Small emeralds, like her eyes.

He wondered if the ring, seen after several years, had always been this color. A sense of longing washed over him, and Evening’s shadow seemed to overlay the memory.