Chapter 31: Pride or Temperant
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"It must be so kind of curse to worsen one's personality."
"Do you really an that?"
"No, I was just pointing out that person's bad personality."
Evie Ariate laughed as she answered Diez's question lightheartedly.
She looked as content as a cat sitting in a sunny spot.
After parting ways with the Count, Evie and Diez returned to the house they had chosen to stay in—a gift from the grateful townsfolk to the Saintess candidate who had saved their town and visited again.
Stretching herself out on the cozy couch, Evie chattered away.
"Co to think of it, the Count understood my curse easily enough. Curses aren't common, most people would be more skeptical."
Evie recalled how, when she had revealed her curse to the Count, he had not dismissed it as nonsense but had taken it seriously.
Her eyes sparkled as she added,
"Cursing Zion Laurel, why would a lion have a bell around its neck?"
Through Diez's ally, Yubia, Evie had learned so very important things today.
However, what captivated Evie's interest was not about herself, but rather, the curse of Zion Laurel.
"It's strange, right? Soone like him should have been able to resolve the curse by now. Would it be too far-fetched to say he's deliberately leaving it untreated?"
"Why would anyone leave a curse they could break?"
"For instance, it could be a consensual curse."
A consensual curse—it was an expression that appeared unexpectedly frequently today.
But it wasn't entirely nonsensical, and Diez could easily catch on to Evie's line of thinking.
"I an like Amanecer's surveillance task?"
Evie nodded with a smile, acknowledging Diez's suggestion.
Though it was all still speculative, Evie felt that several things neatly clicked into place.
The emptiness inherited through the generations of the Laurel family, the curse burdening Zion Laurel, and the living disaster, Amanecer.
"It was a leash, keeping the Count Laurel from fleeing the boundary."
"It's too early to conclude."
"Of course, but even the Manyanya Tower has a basent. Do you think the Laurel family castle could be perfect?"
Despite Diez's cautious objections, Evie remained firm in her belief.
She had experienced and seen things herself.
The Manyanya Tower always appeared brilliantly, hiding its secret basent from view.
The dirty work supporting the tower occurred in the murky depths below, allowing its splendid peak to rise above.
Evie thought the Laurel family was no different from this deception.
"Furthermore, if you think about it this way, it makes sense why the Count is indifferent to Thienda."
Despite the Duke's extre devotion, the Count's lack of interest in Thienda might be comparable to the aversion Evie felt toward the tower lord.
This gave Evie a slight sense of kinship with the Count, whom she once thought to be completely opposite to herself.
"Up to this point, the pieces fit quite well, but I don't know how to interpret the Count's current state. He's cursed , but he's not emotionless like the previous Counts of Laurel."
Evie tapped her fingers on the table, murmuring aloud as she questioned whether traces of a curse could linger even after it was broken, or if another curse could afflict soone afterward.
Evie's contemplation of the Count was deeply earnest, almost to the point of obsession.
She was like a cat that had bitten into a catnip stick.
Evie, being naturally clever, often enjoyed piecing together bits of overlooked details and reading between the lines.
Diez sotis found her behavior reminiscent of a peculiar genius but did not voice this thought.
He did not want to provoke Evie's ire by calling her peculiar or make her overly proud by calling her a genius.
Evie often beca engrossed like this, but now there was an even more pressing topic.
Diez, wondering if Evie had forgotten, gently reminded her:
"I'm quite intrigued by the Count's curse, but the more urgent issue is your own curse, Lady Evie."
"Right, that's the most pressing matter."
Fortunately, Evie agreed with Diez without hesitation. With a perfectly clear expression, she added:
"So I'm thinking of making a friend. Soone who knows all about my curse and can navigate the high society of Thienda."
"You're not thinking of the Count... are you?"
Thankfully, Evie wasn't completely distracted.
When Diez asked, half in doubt, Evie gave him a look that suggested he shouldn't be surprised.
Evie had two reasons for coming back to this village.
One was to et Yubia, and the other was to collaborate with the Count.
Ever resourceful, Evie wasn't about to let go of the chance to secure a tie with the Count.
After all, they had already revealed each other's weaknesses, and the Count was too precious to simply let slip away.
Furthermore, upon learning from Yubia about the woman who had cursed her, Evie realized the Count's help had beco even more crucial.
To find that woman, she needed to re-enter the society of Thienda, but plunging into that world of pretense and deception with her curse seed an impractical task.
Hence, what she needed was a dependable friend by her side, and no one was more ideal for the role than the Count.
Already well aware of Evie's curse, deeply entangled with her fate, and rumored to be obsessed with her, he was a young, handso nobleman too valuable to pass up.
Accompanied by him, the thorny path of Thienda would no longer feel so daunting.
Of course, she'd have to sort out her bad temper and obsession with the Saintess position first.
Startled by Evie's ambition to win over the Count, Diez murmured:
"I'm surprised. I thought you didn't like the Count."
"It isn't surprising. I don't like him."
Evie responded candidly once again.
After all the emotional distress caused by that man, it was only natural she wouldn't like him.
Even setting aside past grievances, Zion Laurel seed to embody everything Evie disliked.
His authoritarian attitude, unkind speech, cold expression, and character prickly enough to lack any rounded edges.
Everything about the Count stood polar opposite to Evie's ideal, and she truly disliked him.
However, Evie was soone willing to set aside her personal likes and dislikes for the sake of her goals.
"I think I can beco friends with him, despite disliking him. They do say opposites attract."
Evie spoke unaffectedly and smiled.
In that mont, her eyes brimd with determination to persuade the Count, and Diez found himself shaking his head at this ambitious young woman.
"Becoming friends and using soone seem even more different, don’t they…?"
As loyal as Diez was as a butler, he couldn't completely support her plan this ti.
The character of the Count, from what he saw, was as fiercely independent as the wild horses of the western range—unyielding to the core.
Those wild horses would sooner jump off a cliff than bear a human rider, out of pride or temperant.
To Diez's eyes, Zion Laurel was exactly such a person.
He was soone who possessed every right to be arrogant and was fully aware of it.
A lofty person like him would never bend.
Having never been broken before, he saw no need to submit.
It didn't matter how much he adored the students, if it ant compromising his pride.
Therefore, Diez was skeptical of Evie's strategy, but he kept his thoughts to himself.
Surely, Evie was aware of this, and was probably weaving together plans as she pondered over everything.
While Diez curiously contemplated the complex mind of Evie, a sudden pounding interrupted the night:
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Despite it being close to night, there was soone knocking on the door from outside.
"This is serious! Very serious!"
Following the knocks ca Mrs. Marso's urgent voice.
Evie's eyes widened, and Diez imdiately went to the door to bring her in.
The small woman looked at Evie with a nearly tearful expression and spoke.
"Oh Evie, what are we going to do...!"
"What's wrong, Mrs. Marso? What happened?"
"The Duchess Bayen's soldiers took the teacher away!"
At Mrs. Marso's desperate cry, Evie's montarily serious face returned to calm.
"That certainly is serious."
For the investigation team, indeed, it was deeply troubling.
Evie's eyes blurred briefly, but Mrs. Marso didn't seem to notice as she continued in a flustered torrent of words.
As it turned out, an investigative team leader, with a significantly bruised ego, had ordered soldiers to arrest the nerve-wracking glasses-wearer from the village square.
Mrs. Marso was sweating profusely, struggling to catch her breath as she explained, so Diez offered her a handkerchief.
Instead of wiping her sweat, she pressed her face into it, bursting into tears over her fear that the teacher might be seriously hurt or never co back.
Evie couldn't remain indifferent any longer and eventually reassured Mrs. Marso on behalf of the Count.
"Don't worry too much, Mrs. Marso. I'll bring the teacher back."
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The investigation team that had arrived in the village consisted of about fifty mbers.
With that number, they could easily stay in the village, but the team leader insisted on setting up a camp outside the village.
This was due to his belief that even the most makeshift soldiers' tents outshone the hos of commoners.
Therefore, Evie found herself crossing a rye field in the dark of night to locate the glasses-wearer.
"It's oddly quiet."
Diez, who was leading the way, remarked. The investigation team's brightly lit camp was nearby, just across the rye field.
They should have detected human presence, countered by hearing Evie and Diez's footsteps first.
Howeveer, the camp seed silently asleep.
Sensing sothing amiss, the two quickly cut through the rye.
Upon arriving at the investigation team's camp, they were greeted with an unusual sight at the entrance itself.
Like rag dolls, nurous soldiers lay sprawled.
Diez checked the state of a fallen soldier and spoke with a mix of exasperation.
"They're unconscious. I can guess who did this without being told."
"It seems he was indeed angry. Being called 'Glasses'."
Evie also stifled a chuckle while looking at the soldiers defeated.
Her predictions weren't wrong.
Mrs. Marso's great 'crisis' was indeed a significant one for the investigative officers.
Leaving behind the incapacitated soldiers, Evie and Diez entered the camp.
Inside, the scenery was no different from the entrance.
Soldiers lay neatly as if they had been put to sleep, without any sign of a struggle or resistance.
It seed that they had been entirely overpowered at once.
While surveying this unbelievable situation, Evie and Diez spread out to find the Count.
Soon enough, Evie ca face to face with him.
Inside the largest tent, using the investigative team leader as a footstool, sat Zion Laurel.
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