Chapter 79: The Saintess and the Assassin’s Gaze

“Jeanne Decker?” The Duchess Liddell exclaimed, surprised, as she scrutinized the figure in the carriage once more. “Is that really her?”

Alice Liddell offered no reply. In that moment, everything else blurred from her vision, save for the exceptionally clear silhouette of the young woman holding the flag in the carriage.

Her tall, graceful posture, her dignified features, and that awe-inspiring presence were just as Alice Liddell remembered from their days together at the academy in that small town.

Without realizing it, a wistful smile played on Alice Liddell’s lips, a silent testament to her burgeoning nostalgia.

The Duchess Liddell cast a glance at her, a sense of foreboding settling in her heart. ‘This feels entirely too much like an old flame rekindled,’ she thought.

She then scrutinized Jeanne Decker from afar once more.

While Jeanne Decker’s beauty was far from the peerless, enchanting allure of Her Majesty, it was objectively quite striking. More importantly, her noble and formidable aura, emanating from within, was entirely different from the Queen’s—a distinct kind of charm that was not without its own competitive edge.

Yet, her thoughts soon drifted back to Queen Isola’s recent remark: ‘Meddling.’

A subject was obligated to share in their sovereign’s burdens, but if the sovereign themselves harbored no such worries, what right did the Duchess Liddell have to fret on their behalf? If Her Majesty truly found being robbed of love a refined inclination, perhaps it would be better to simply let nature take its course.

Even a loyal subject like herself found such thankless tasks distasteful.

As the Duchess Liddell sank into contemplation, Alice Liddell snapped back to attention. “Why is she with the Church’s procession?”

Upon hearing the question, the Duchess Liddell observed the entire procession carefully before responding, “Now that you mention it, I believe I heard some time ago that the Church’s Holy Cathedral in the capital was preparing to select standard-bearers from among the youth.”

“Standard-bearers?”

“It’s a kind of image project, you see. They need to choose a representative to embody their public image. If the chosen representative is a woman, she becomes a so-called Saintess, who can then serve as a public figure, like a ‘poster girl,’ during parades such as this.

However, given the Church’s strict principles, their branding efforts would never be as casual as a beauty pageant. This ‘Saintess’ wouldn’t be a mere decorative figure; they would undoubtedly invest resources into cultivating her. Her image, background, and abilities would all need to be impeccable,” the Duchess Liddell analyzed. “Your friend, as you said, is indeed quite exceptional.”

“So that’s it,” Alice Liddell immediately understood.

Jeanne Decker truly was deserving in all these aspects.

She watched the carriage draw nearer, her gaze unwavering, until the Duchess Liddell nudged her with an elbow.

“Alright, stop staring. You can’t reveal yourself to her now. Don’t forget what I warned you about earlier!” the Duchess Liddell insisted.

Alice Liddell suddenly remembered.

Just as ‘he’ had told Jeanne Decker back then, Jeanne Decker was climbing the ranks through her own abilities.

But as she became a Saintess of the Church, the distance between her and Alice Liddell, a witch, grew ever wider.

This realization brought a familiar sense of desolation surging back into her heart.

“The procession might include ‘Bishops’ of intermediate rank. Although we have our identities as a safeguard, we must still try to avoid contact with Church personnel. If our true identities are discovered, we could end up on the pyre!” the Duchess Liddell urged once more.

Alice Liddell cast a lingering glance at Jeanne Decker before departing with the Duchess Liddell.

This unexpected encounter with Jeanne Decker had filled her with a myriad of emotions.

It also prevented Alice Liddell from noticing that the witch’s premonition, which had caused her heart to pound, had vanished without a trace at some point.

****

Standing in the carriage, Jeanne Decker held the banner high with one hand, waving to the surrounding crowd with the other.

Unintentionally, her gaze swept over the spot where Alice Liddell had been standing, but by then, both women had long since disappeared.

However, at that very moment, another pair of eyes remained fixed intently on her.

It was the assassin, disguised as a beggar. He had hidden himself behind a roadside billboard, wary of the ‘Bishops’ and blessed individuals who might be present in the procession.

Still, he couldn’t resist peeking out, his eyes glued to the Saintess in the carriage.

A Saintess, put forward by the Church as their emblem? Surely, only a daughter of a noble house would have such an opportunity.

‘The imperial nobles who persecute us Redlands people, and the Holy Church that brands our faith as heresy… This woman deserves to be cut into a thousand pieces more than anyone else!’

The assassin’s eyes widened, bloodshot, as he stared at Jeanne Decker with an unprecedentedly vicious gaze.

‘This woman should be tortured beyond recognition, her chest ripped open, her heart torn out, and her blood smeared across the entire street, to instill true terror into this sinful nation!’

‘Why do my mentor and the others not understand? Avenging the Redlands people is the responsibility every one of us should bear! And true revenge means inflicting extreme cruelty, embedding terror deep within the hearts of every imperial citizen!’

‘Yes, if I could kill the Saintess whom the Church extols as its emblem, and then display her corpse, the Church would surely lose all face. The imperial citizens in this city would also be enveloped in the terror I create, living in constant dread.’

The mere thought of how he would brutalize this Saintess caused his lips to curl into a grotesque, savage smile.

Unconsciously, he had long forgotten the noblewoman and young lady he had originally targeted, his eyes now solely focused on the figure holding the banner high in the carriage.

‘A hundred targets on this street wouldn’t be as valuable as this one.’

‘Excellent. It’s decided. My next prey… will be her!’

****

Meanwhile, in a shop on the commercial street, a young woman selecting jewelry looked towards the entrance.

“What’s all the commotion outside?” she asked the shopkeeper, who stood at the doorway gazing into the distance, her tone nonchalant.

“It’s the Church’s Holy Doctrine Day procession! Please, honored guest, come take a look!” The shopkeeper excitedly called out to the customer.

From her accent, this guest seemed to be a tourist from another province, likely unaccustomed to the Church processions in the Imperial Capital.

“I’m not interested.” But the customer refused without hesitation, merely glancing at the pile of selected jewelry on the counter. “Please wrap up all the pieces I’ve just picked.”

“Of course!” The shopkeeper bustled back to attend to her business.

This customer was very beautiful and generous with her spending. Her only drawback was her cold demeanor, as frigid as ice and snow. No matter how much the shopkeeper praised her while she tried on jewelry, she maintained an icy expression, leading the shopkeeper to briefly wonder if she had come to cause trouble.

“Honored guest, you truly have excellent taste; all our jewelry here is designed by renowned artists! Ah, how about I register you for our VIP card? You can visit often in the future, and you’ll receive discounts,” the shopkeeper said enthusiastically, carefully wrapping the items. “Where are you from? May I know your esteemed name?”

“No need. I am not an imperial citizen,” the young woman replied coldly, taking her purchases and leaving the shop without a backward glance.