"Catherine, what exactly happened?" Vironica gripped Catherine’s shoulders in front of the desk, her voice filled with disbelief, and her expression revealed unconcealed joy. A Saint-Level magical beast had cast a curse with its final breath—under normal circumstances, that should have been incurable.
Originally, Vironica had pinned all her hopes on the Holy City’s Pope and had already prepared to pay a high price. The sudden miracle that fell from the sky left her montarily flustered.
"It was the child beside Losiya who healed ," Catherine replied with a smile.
Vironica blinked unnaturally, and her dignified deanor now seed oddly comical. Clearly, she didn’t believe Catherine’s words, but the undeniable truth before her was hard to reconcile.
"Who?"
Catherine looked toward the room behind Vironica and said directly, "It was that boy nad Julian who healed ."
Julian?
The unfamiliar na made Vironica even more puzzled.
Suddenly, Vironica gripped Catherine’s shoulders again, and the corridor fell into a long, eerie silence.
"You didn’t see him just now? He should be in Losiya’s room..." Catherine’s voice grew softer and softer, and then she too noticed the abnormal look on Vironica’s face.
"How did he heal you?" Pushing aside the awkwardness that lingered, Vironica questioned further.
Catherine now looked hesitant, not imdiately answering.
Julian’s secret—she believed even if she told Vironica, the woman wouldn’t harbor ill intentions. In fact, when it ca to keeping secrets, Vironica might even be more cautious than she was.
But secrets were best kept to as few people as possible. The fewer who knew, the lower the risk of exposure.
"What Holy Mark has he awakened?" At so point, Vironica had moved closer to whisper in Catherine’s ear. Beneath the current of magical energy, the question echoed clearly in Catherine’s heart.
Catherine frowned but didn’t answer right away.
Vironica slowly withdrew her hands from the other woman’s shoulders and turned to walk back into the room.
As soon as she entered, she walked straight into the sight of two people helping each other get dressed.
In her impression, Losiya had always been a child who never grew up. Even after being conferred the title of Countess and becoming a regional lord, that impression remained unchanged.
From a young age, she was more mature than her peers, acting like a tiny adult who neither cried nor made a fuss. Later, Vironica learned that she had awakened a superior holy Mark never recorded in the family’s history. This innate spiritual strength made her far more powerful than others from birth.
As she grew older, she beca increasingly composed. But that composure often stemd more from confidence—if not arrogance—than genuine maturity. Among her peers, only Alice, who had grown up with her, was a true friend. Everyone else was more of a shallow acquaintance, unable to form deep connections.
During the last Holy City ceremony held once every decade, she had effortlessly defeated all challengers like an adult toying with children. Magical attacks were nullified as if they were nothing, and those who tried close combat were utterly crushed—as though being toyed with by a cat.
But as Losiya matured, her personality grew more frivolous, and she beca aimless. Her magical power increased naturally over ti, but the path to the peak of the Saint Realm was already visible to her—clear, yet uninspiring.
Vironica’s dissatisfaction with Losiya stemd largely from this: she matured early but never seed to grow truly mature.
Now, watching the previously unruly and disobedient Losiya gently and attentively helping the boy behind her get dressed...
Whether in her actions or her expression, Vironica suddenly felt that Losiya had finally grown a little more mature. There was a quiet, invisible sense of responsibility emanating from her.
Thinking back to how Losiya had just now argued with her—sothing she’d never done before—just for this boy’s sake, Vironica couldn’t help but show a mixed smile, shaking her head and choosing not to disturb them.
Peeking through the crack in the door, she caught a glimpse of Julian’s back.
"Catherine, why didn’t you tell earlier?" She rubbed her temples, suddenly feeling a headache coming on.
"Wasn’t I trying to surprise you?" Catherine said as she walked ahead, not even turning her head.
A surprise?
Vironica was definitely surprised, but now that the surprise had passed, she couldn’t help but recall all the rash and foolish things she’d just said in anger. Her headache only worsened.
When the two reached the living room, Alice, showing concern, poured a cup of tea for Vironica.
In front of Alice’s gentle attention, Vironica no longer had her earlier fierce aura. On the contrary, she now looked more like... well, like an adult who had made a mistake but still refused to admit it.
Before long, Catherine, who had been quietly flipping through the magic codex she always carried with her, suddenly brightened. Her eyes lit up as she looked toward the stairwell.
Losiya was holding Julian’s hand, and the two walked down side by side.
Wearing a darker-toned uniform, Losiya stepped with firm, echoing strides. Her tall boots accentuated her slender legs, making her presence striking and elegant.
Her right shoulder was unusually adorned with a short, light cloak, and paired with her tall, lean figure and her now dignified expression, her presence at that mont rivaled even Duke Kelden’s.
Beside her, Julian was no longer wearing various types of won’s clothing. Instead, he now wore a gender-neutral white ceremonial outfit—elegantly styled, finely tailored.
His right hand rested in Losiya’s caring left hand, and when he noticed everyone staring, he uneasily lowered his head.
It was unclear whether it was Losiya’s handiwork, but Julian no longer looked ssy-haired as before. Though he still wore his hair long, part of it had been braided into a coiled bun at the top of his head, replacing the need for a hair tie.
When he first arrived, Julian’s disheveled appearance made everyone look down and feel uneasy.
His wild, tousled hair and slightly flushed cheeks gave him an air of careless abandon, as if he had no regard for propriety. It may have seed improper, but even the maidservants subconsciously felt that only a reckless woman would choose such a light, carefree hairstyle—and it looked even more out of place on a boy.
Whispers spread among the servants, their disapproval thinly veiled behind polite smiles. So wondered if he had been raised without discipline, while others simply found his untad look unsettling in such a refined household.
Yet Julian seed oblivious, or perhaps indifferent, to their judgnt.
Now, Julian clearly appeared more composed. His originally flawless face now radiated a sacred glow, making it impossible for anyone to harbor impure thoughts.
Moreover, Losiya had deliberately adjusted his bangs to cover his right eye. This was one of her little private gestures—she didn’t want anyone else to see Julian’s "right eye."
"Mother," Losiya said calmly as she approached Duke Kelden with Julian in hand, never once letting go. She brought Julian along and gave a formal bow together.
Vironica, holding her teacup, silently sighed.
How could she not know? Her daughter’s actions were a request—for a reasonable answer.
Looking at Julian standing beside Losiya, Vironica couldn’t help but question herself. She had thought he would be a disaster for Losiya. But if he could truly help Losiya beco more mature... then what exactly did that make him?
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