Gabriel seemed to be heading off to meet that "good-natured" bishop. Well, time to show some tact and make my exit.
_Did I accomplish everything I needed to?_
I had saved Hena and Kanna from the aristocrats' attacks. The girls had viewed the painting—though I never saw it myself, nor had I intended to. I had secured the testimony, rescued the knight, and earned favor in Gabriel's eyes.
True, this Daisy had appeared unexpectedly, but Gabriel still seemed quite taken with me. Everything was proceeding splendidly!
"Is it time to head back?" I asked.
"Yes!" Kanna exclaimed, her joy unmistakable.
Of course she wanted to go home. How many hours had she been waiting for me here?
I gathered my things and stood. Gabriel reached out his hand toward me, as if to hold me back, but at the last moment he froze—not daring to touch me.
"Are you leaving already?"
_What, should I stay and live with you?_ I nearly blurted out.
Wait. I was living in a romance novel world now. I couldn't be so rude to the hero and damage my reputation. I needed to be sweet and charming to shed this villain image.
"It's late," I answered softly instead.
"Then allow me to escort you to your carriage."
Gabriel rose from his seat. Apparently, he had decided to combine business with pleasure—see me off and then pay his visit to the bishop.
Outside, dusk had already begun to settle over the Temple grounds.
We reached the carriage quickly. The coachman, perched on the driver's box, nearly jumped out of his skin when he spotted me.
_Right!_ I had teleported directly in front of him earlier. I had completely forgotten about that.
I wanted to apologize and explain everything, but before I could speak, the carriage door swung open. Jelly stuck his head out.
"Have you finally arrived?"
"Well done, Jelly," I praised, reaching up to pat his head.
He was clearly angling for affection. While I was indulging him, Gabriel called out to me.
"Lady Lohanson."
I turned around. Gabriel was extending his hand toward me.
_What now?_ He probably wanted to help me into the carriage.
I placed my hand in his. But instead of assisting me up the steps, he brought my fingers to his lips.
I was so startled I nearly struck him.
He hadn't meant to help at all—he wanted to *kiss my hand*?!
I knew this was a common greeting in this world, but experiencing it firsthand felt unbearably awkward. I should have worn gloves! Thankfully, Gabriel only brushed his lips lightly against my skin.
But still... it was *strange*.
Instead of the touch of his lips, I felt his warm breath. That gentle, featherlight breeze against my skin made heat rise to my cheeks.
I wanted to flee.
"I hope we see each other soon," Gabriel said, his voice low.
Without answering, I scrambled into the carriage. Kanna, the last to board, slammed the door with unnecessary force.
As I listened to Kanna grumble about Gabriel under her breath, I wondered if I should tell her that he was supposed to be *her* destiny.
Ignoring my troubled thoughts, the carriage rolled forward along the darkening road.
---
## — Rafaella's Observation —
Rafaella came to her senses only long after Count Lohanson's carriage had vanished from sight.
"What... what did you just *do*?" she demanded, stuttering with barely contained agitation.
"Said goodbye."
"Do you even understand—"
Gabriel responded with astonishing calm. But was it *normal* to kiss Evangeline's hand in farewell?! How could he—how could *Yuriel*—remain so serene?! Michel didn't count; he was clearly unhinged.
"And another thing..." Rafaella pressed on. "Commander, why didn't you tell her everything? Before we arrived, she was speaking with the nun, and your name was mentioned. It seems the nun revealed something to her..."
When Evangeline had interrogated Gabriel, Rafaella had prayed he would simply tell the truth. The look Evangeline had fixed on her at that moment felt like a blade pressed against her throat.
She had desperately tried to use subtle gestures to persuade Gabriel to confess everything as it was...
But he had lied.
At that moment, Rafaella had been certain they were finished. Yet Gabriel had gone even further—he had *handed* Evangeline Daisy's testimony!
Of course, everything the nun had said was documented there. What was the point of lying when you were placing the evidence directly into her hands?!
But Evangeline, after reading the document, had simply remained silent.
"Why did you do this? You must have had a reason..."
---
## — Gabriel's Discovery —
It was Gabriel's intuition.
He knew that for Evangeline Lohanson, maintaining her image was paramount. Judging by her behavior and mannerisms, she was making a deliberate effort to present herself as a true lady.
She had only broken character when Gabriel offered assistance. She had likely been angry that he was attempting to expose her carefully constructed facade.
So Gabriel had adapted to her instead. He handed her the document and stated he hadn't heard anything—thereby demonstrating that he hadn't noticed her deception.
And his tactic appeared to have worked.
But when he kissed Evangeline's hand goodbye, Gabriel made another discovery.
When she extended her hand to him...
Evangeline was short, and her hand seemed remarkably small compared to his own.
Her skin was ice-cold.
He covered her palm with his and concentrated on her pulse. He knew she wouldn't pull away. Slowly, deliberately, he brought his lips to her skin, counting her heartbeats.
The pulse was weak but steady.
She was breathing.
He had suspected she might be a living corpse—but she was *alive*.
Daisy had claimed Evangeline was controlling a dead body, but that was a lie. Nevertheless, Gabriel still believed there was something distinctly *inhuman* about her. She gazed upon people like insects and seemed to find nothing unusual in that.
He still remembered their first meeting vividly.
Among all living creatures, she had been the only one who appeared dead.
Among warmth and light, she radiated cold and shadow.
This was what made Evangeline Lohanson *special*.
Gabriel's lips pressed together involuntarily. He hadn't even kissed her properly, yet the cold of her skin seemed to burn him.
---
## — In the Infirmary —
Yuriel carried Michel to the infirmary and laid him carefully on the bed.
_Was that his entire mission?_
Michel was already soaked through with holy water—he didn't require any treatment. Yuriel was about to leave when Seraph burst into the room.
On his way over, Yuriel had heard the clash of swords; Seraph had apparently been training. A small cut marred his neck. The moment he spotted Michel lying drenched on the bed, Seraph cried out in alarm.
"Sir Michel! What... what happened to you? Why are you so wet? Are you in pain? Isn't that cold sweat? Don't die, Sir Michel!"
"Sir Seraph, please calm down. It's just holy water."
"What? Are you injured that badly? Or... did you fall into the fountain?"
Seraph was remarkably impressionable and prone to wild speculation. Yuriel patiently explained what had actually transpired.
The conversation progressed at an agonizing pace, as Seraph kept interrupting with his increasingly outlandish guesses and fantasies.
They were still chatting when Gabriel and the other knights returned from seeing Evangeline off.
"That's how it all happened," Yuriel concluded.
"I see... I understand everything," Seraph declared solemnly.
Rafaella, observing their exchange, nearly slammed the door in frustration. The fussy Seraph and the simple-minded Yuriel—a *dreadful* combination.
Fortunately, another knight was present in the infirmary: Jeremy. He had come looking for Seraph, who had been far too long collecting his bandages, and had inadvertently become entangled in the conversation. When their eyes met, Jeremy waved his hands frantically, silently begging for rescue.
"Sir Rafaella! Commander!"
"Commander, where is Lady Lohanson?"
"She left."
"Ah..."
Yuriel looked so crestfallen that Rafaella began to wonder: perhaps Evangeline hadn't simply *left*, but had... ascended to heaven?
"And Michel?"
"He's still sleeping... Oh, are you awake already?"
Seraph awkwardly greeted Michel, who now lay on the bed with his eyes wide open.
Rafaella covered her face with her hand.
"Um... My apologies," Michel said, sitting up and scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "You were all having such an engaging conversation that I didn't dare interrupt."
Fortunately, he appeared to be feeling fine.
"Michel, how are you?" Gabriel asked.
"Quite well, Commander. I apologize for causing everyone so much trouble."
"Do you remember what happened?"
"Yes, I recall some of it. And Yuriel filled in the rest."
Gabriel and Rafaella examined Michel carefully. They breathed sighs of relief upon confirming he was completely unscathed—all thanks to the holy water Evangeline had poured over him. He seemed to have fully recovered.
But they still needed to verify one thing.
"Michel... are you *certain* you're all right?" Rafaella asked hesitantly. "I mean... your mental state."
"What do you mean?"
"Do you still believe the painting depicted an angel?"
Michel's expression shifted, something like shame flickering across his features. "Ah... I'm truly sorry. I don't know what came over me. Now that I can see things clearly, that painting seems utterly eerie and ominous."
"Well, *here* he is again," Rafaella said with palpable relief, sinking onto the bed opposite Michel.
This man had caused them *so* much trouble!
"Michel, you should be grateful to us!" she continued, her frustration finally boiling over. "We locked you in that room specifically to prevent you from doing anything reckless—but you managed to *escape* and throw yourself directly into the flames! If it weren't for Lady Lohanson, you would have been severely injured!"
Rafaella unleashed everything she had been holding back. Michel listened to her tirade with visible embarrassment.
But the moment she mentioned Evangeline, his eyes lit up.