Thiendavis – For The Perfect Salvation Chapter 3

Chapter 3. Certainly a Strange Fellow

The count's gaze was sharply fixed on Evie.

Consequently, Evie felt like a criminal despite having done nothing wrong.

'What did I do to deserve this...?'

Evie thought, bewildered by the sudden hostile glare.

Why was the count, whom she t for the first ti today, glaring at her so intensely?

'Because he's the younger brother of the Grand Duke Laurel?'

This was the only imdiate thought that ca to mind.

Just as Evie knew about the count, the count surely knew about Evie.

Evie, a candidate for sainthood with an unprecedented background as a commoner, faced strong opposition from the conservative Duke of Laurel, Zion's brother, who was against her selection as a saintess.

Thus, their relationship was not particularly pleasant.

With these thoughts in mind, Evie looked at the count with doubt.

Surely, no renowned hero would resort to such childish baiting for such a reason.

'Perhaps I should at least acknowledge him.'

Deciding to do so, Evie gave a nod with an innocent face toward the count.

However, the count remained unmoved, continuing to stare at Evie.

'Ah, what is this...?'

Forcing a smile, Evie swallowed her awkwardness.

anwhile, the other nobles started to turn their attention to her one by one.

Observing the count's reaction, they noticed Evie and began to whisper among themselves, barely containing their excitent.

Consequently, the unfortunate Evie let out a sigh.

She didn't know what was happening, but if she stayed still, she'd surely end up being misunderstood.

With no other option, Evie hid her embarrassnt behind a graceful smile and approached the count, clutching her skirt.

The nobles, their eyes filled with curiosity, cleared the way for her.

Facing the count smoothly, Evie politely greeted him.

"It's a pleasure to et you for the first ti, count. I'm Evie Ariate from Manyanya Tower."

Since you've been watching so intently, I've co over.

If you have anything to say, please do so now.

With this feeling, Evie bowed.

However, a heavy silence followed her greeting.

The count, who had been glaring at Evie with fierce eyes, did not acknowledge her salutation.

Evie, still bowing, sighed internally.

'This young gentleman has no manners, doesn't even know how to return a greeting.'

Evie thought.

The situation was embarrassing for anyone to see, yet Evie was not particularly shaken.

She had experienced this a lot before.

When she first set foot in the social circles, immature nobles often tried to humiliate her in this way.

Compared to them, this was mild.

Evie suppressed the fresh mories and lifted her head.

The count was looking down at her with an emotionless expression.

While his attitude was devoid of kindness or courtesy, Evie smiled sweetly, unbothered.

"I thought you were calling for , count, but it seems I misunderstood due to my eagerness. Please forgive for my mistake."

As Evie bowed again, the nobles, except for the count, showed satisfaction.

This was exactly why the Thiendavis social circles adored Evie.

Her manners not at all seed like those of a commoner; her ability to handle any situation smoothly and elevate her superiors with politeness made her a charming companion.

Moreover, she was filled with divine blessings and a multitude of talents, making her an intriguing and lovely commoner to have by one's side.

With a semblance of understanding what the nobles thought, Evie continued pretending ignorance.

"Still, I'm very glad and thankful to have had the opportunity to greet you in this way. In fact, I've always wanted to et you to express my gratitude."

Evie said, looking up with innocent eyes at the count.

From there, she anticipated two possibilities.

One, the count would continue to ignore her; and two, his curiosity piqued about what she had to say, he would ask reluctantly.

Whatever the case, Evie was confident she could act beautifully.

Confidently waiting, the count finally spoke.

"What is it that you wish to say?"

His voice was calr than she expected, yet just as dry.

Though there wasn't the faintest hint of kindness in his emotionless tone, Evie was satisfied having heard him speak and bead brightly.

She then spoke cheerfully.

"You are as rude as you look!"

And thus began the curse.

.

.

.

"What I ant to say was, 'Thank you for protecting Thiendavis. Thanks to you, count, the world is a peaceful place today. May the blessings of the gods be with you, count...'"

Evie murmured with eyes filled with regret after her reflection.

It was a decent sche.

To express gratitude to the hero of Thiendavis in front of everyone was subtly an opportunity to act like a saintess.

Yet, the sudden start of the curse had exposed Evie's true nature, ruining everything.

Consequently, Evie ended up cursing the count three tis, babbling nonsense, and eventually fleeing the banquet hall.

Then, she cried all night, lanting how everything had gone so wrong.

Despite it all, it was her determination to beco a saintess that finally helped Evie co to her senses.

Diez, understanding the entire story, nodded with an indifferent expression.

"It is quite peculiar timing for the curse to have started, and the individual involved."

"What's even more peculiar is the count's mysterious personality."

"Indeed, he seems like quite the strange fellow. Why is that, I wonder?"

"There are three hypotheses."

In response to Diez's query, Evie held up three fingers with a determined look on her face.

"First, he's infatuated with ."

"Oh dear."

"Listen, when people can't keep their eyes off soone, it often ans they're in love."

"Yet you said he glared at you fiercely. Ignored your greetings."

"That's out of embarrassnt. He's likely very shy."

Though Diez's gaze was tinged with skepticism, Evie remained undeterred and presented the next hypothesis.

"And second, he harbors ill will towards ."

"There's no middle ground, it seems."

"Would an average person act that way?"

"No, I an about the count..."

"Anyway, it could be that he dislikes intensely. As the sibling of the Grand Duke, he's eager to see fall."

Evie was assertive, even when discussing negative possibilities.

Her attitude was one of leaving no stone unturned.

Observing this, Diez crossed his arms and asked.

"Then what about the last hypothesis?"

"The third hypothesis is that Zion Laurel is connected to this curse."

At this revelation, Diez, who had been listening calmly, furrowed his brows.

However, Evie remained serious.

"If I had cursed soone, I'd probably watch them closely to see the outco. But the count fixated on obsessively yesterday, and at that ti, the curse began, causing significant distress. Isn't that suspicious enough?"

"It makes so sense, but it's hard to believe that the Count Laurel would resort to cursing you, of all people."

"Why not?!"

Evie scoffed, her arms crossed, projecting an air of suspicion.

Diez, maintaining composure, added calmly.

"And if the count is the culprit, it complicates matters for us."

"Why?"

"There are only two ways to break Noche's Curse: either destroy the dium through which the curse was cast, or the caster must die. Searching the Laurel household or assassinating the Count is nearly impossible."

"... Should we discard the third hypothesis, then?"

Evie, pragmatic in her calculations, took back her suspicions swiftly.

In a slightly mournful voice, she asked again.

"Assuming the Count Laurel isn't the culprit, how long would it take to break this curse?"

"First, we'll need to seek out the Clan of the Night to find out when and where the curse casting ceremony took place. That alone will take about three days. What happens next will depend on the situation!"

Diez said, explaining the upcoming tasks without offering any concrete tiline.

The future remained unclear, but Evie did not despair.

Rather, understanding that Diez was knowledgeable about curses brought her so relief, prompting her to nod.

"Understood. I'll leave the matter of the curse in your hands. Oh, and also this."

Evie handed over a letter placed on the table.

"It's a letter to the Count Laurel. I've written an apology since it may be difficult to et him imdiately."

"Offering an apology would surely require an explanation."

"I wrote it in brief. 'The wine was a little too much, it was unintentional, I'm genuinely sorry...'"

Evie forced a smile to swallow her feelings of self-reproach.

This is tantamount to confessing she was drunk, but it couldn't be helped.

Better this than having the curse discovered.

If the curse and her deep-seated hypocrisy were unearthed, one inevitably faced accusations of being a hypocrite, deceiver, opportunist, and a liar.

Wanting to avoid them, Evie added with resolute determination.

"I've wrapped it up the best I could, so please send it to the Laurel residence. I'll think about what to do next."

Evie had to beco a saintess, and Diez, whose fate was intertwined with hers, desired the sa outco.

Thus, affirming their shared resolve, Diez nodded firmly, taking the letter and exiting Evie's room.

He returned within ten minutes.

"A significant issue has arisen."

"... All of a sudden?"

Issues were already overflowing; what was this about now?

As Evie stared blankly, Diez reported calmly as always.

"The Count Laurel has co to the residence."

Evie nearly dropped her heart at the news.

.

.

.

"Why is he here at our house!"

"He seems to have co to et you."

"What does that an? I can't et anyone right now!"

"Shall I tell him it's difficult to et today, then?"

"No, we can't just send the Count away like that!"

"... Then what should we do?"

Faced with Zion Laurel's visit, Evie scolded Diez informally.

Then, exhibiting moderate symptoms of anxiety, she bit her nails and pulled her hair, eventually clinging to Diez's pant leg.

Finally, ten minutes later, Evie stood poised before the reception room, the picture of dignity.

'I can do this.'

Finally decided to et the count, Evie took a deep breath.

Surely, the grand noble had co for yesterday's incident, and hiding now would only incite his wrath.

Determined to prevent that, Evie resolutely opened the door to the reception room.

She took in the sunlit interior at a glance.

The warm spring sunlight cast diagonal lines through the space, and in its midst sat a man, poised impeccably, sipping tea.

It was Zion Laurel.

Montarily dazed by the sight of his gold-thread hair intermingling with the sunlight, Evie snapped back to reality upon noticing the letter in his hand.

It was, indeed, the letter she had entrusted to Diez, seemingly intercepted at the entrance and already unsealed.

Suppressing her despair, Evie greeted the Count.

"Pleased to et you again. It is an honor to have you co all the way here."

"Please, take a seat."

Though the Count ordered curtly without responding to her greeting, Evie quietly took a seat opposite him, hunching her shoulders as she gauged his mood.

Strangely, the Count still wore a cold and indifferent expression, devoid of friendliness.

Resigned to whatever judgnt awaited, Evie braced herself. Finally, the Count spoke.

"I only ca to converse. There's no need to be so tense."

"Yes...?"

"If it's because of my deanor, I apologize. Having spent much ti on the borders, I am not accustod to socializing."

Evie blinked, puzzled by the unexpected words.

Considering their atrocious first encounter, his sensible remark was quite surprising.

'Is he kinder than I thought...?'

"Or perhaps it's because I have no manners."

'Never mind, take that back.'

As Evie wrestled with her changing perception, Zion's emotionless tone made it hard to discern whether he was joking or mocking her.

If it were true that he was rely bad at socializing, he'd be the world's stiffest person; if on purpose, then quite the anie.

Evie thought so and cautiously ventured.

"You ca to talk about yesterday's incident, right...?"

"I suppose it's sothing to discuss. About yesterday's incident..."

"I am truly sorry for it!"

The count was still speaking when Evie entered rashly.

The count looked at her, causing her to adopt a somber expression.

Thus, the count continued.

"I read your letter. It says yesterday was..."

"Caused by intoxication, as I ntioned, which embarrassingly happens to be the truth."

"Intoxication..."

"Though it's no excuse for such a discourtesy, I am truly ashad."

"So you wrote an apology..."

"I never intended it to replace a sincere apology. Since it seed difficult to et you, I opted for a letter first. But to have caused you to co all this way, I apologize, Count. Please tell how I can earn your forgiveness...?"

Evie, appearing as if her world was collapsing, repeatedly apologized, while the Count, whose words were continually interrupted, eventually fell silent.

With the Count silent, Evie cautiously gauged his expression.

Evie had devised a certain strategy with Diez before descending to the parlor.

Knowing very well that, due to the curse, unpleasant words were likely to escape her if the Count asked her sothing, she thought it better to preemptively respond to any anticipated questions.

While it seed outrageous, Evie, possessing excellent improvisational skills and acting prowess, managed to pull off this audacious plan with so success.

The downside was that the Count, who'd been repeatedly cut off, exuded a dark aura.

'Is he angry?'

As Evie warily observed the Count's countenance, the usually silent Count mumbled as he looked down.

"Your excuse lacks sincerity."

The murmur was sharp.

"Should I check how much champagne the servants brought at such an early hour?"

With those words, the Count looked up, fixing his hawk-like gaze on Evie as he had yesterday.

Consequently, Evie's poor heart found itself descending into despair once more.