Gabriel had a dream.
It was a familiar nightmare—painfully familiar—one that returned to him again and again.
The carriage was racing at full speed when a small child was crushed beneath a wheel. The driver, furious that the vehicle carrying a high-ranking passenger had nearly crashed, unleashed a volley of curses and, without stopping, urged the horses onward.
Someone whispered that one of the bishops was riding in that carriage.
"They say this lady has distinguished herself quite a bit, catching pathetic sorcerers. To crawl under a carriage like that... well, this boy is probably one of those heretics himself."
"Don't come any closer. You'll catch a curse."
The whispers spread, and the few people who had initially moved to help, upon hearing these words, pretended not to see anything and quickly departed.
Gabriel begged the adults for help.
"Please, save him... his leg... the bleeding won't stop..."
But those around him only stared, not daring to assist the child who had almost overturned the carriage in which God's favored servant was riding.
Gabriel hoisted the boy onto his back. "Hold on," he whispered, promising to find the priest and seek help. His small body sagged beneath the weight of a burden a good head taller than himself.
Gabriel went searching for the priest—the one who sometimes wandered the slums, performing small miracles with holy water. The priest spoke the same words Gabriel had heard hundreds of times before. Always the same.
"I'm sorry, but I cannot help."
"Liar!"
Gabriel lunged at the priest but was immediately subdued. Someone taller appeared belatedly, inspected the scene, and merely hissed in frustration.
"What's going on here?"
"Father Giovanni..."
The priest began to explain the situation and was immediately reprimanded.
"Idiot! It's still holy water for the poor—you could have given it to a child!"
"Yes, but... yesterday Harut got a little hurt, and I gave him the leftovers."
"Well, well..."
As they spoke, the warmth in the boy's body gradually faded. His heartbeat slowed. Gabriel felt a strange sense of déjà vu; he knew this rhythm all too well. A heartbeat too slow.
Just like hers.
"I'll help."
Father Giovanni's voice suddenly shifted—became the cold, even tone of Lady Evangeline.
These were the words he had dreamed of his entire life. And the words he had heard often since meeting Evangeline Rohanson. Gabriel reached for the pale, cold hand extended to him... but when he turned around, he saw nothing.
---
At that moment, through the fog of his awakening consciousness, voices reached him.
"Commander? Are you asleep? Even after night shifts, you usually remained alert."
"You never fall asleep while doing paperwork... It looks like you're really exhausted today."
"You just returned from the Rohanson estate?"
"And really... what are we going to do, wake him up?"
The voices were familiar. Raphael and Uriel? Sleep gradually receded, and closed eyelids appeared before his eyes.
"They say Bishop Marika is summoning Sir Michel... Should we inform the captain?"
The name, suddenly heard, brought Gabriel instantly back to his senses. Yes—that was the name of the owner of that carriage.
"I'm already awake. Everything's fine."
"Captain!"
Raphael delivered the news that a summons had arrived from Bishop Marika. On an ordinary day, Raphael would have woken Gabriel without a second thought, but now the captain looked especially exhausted. The events at the Rohanson mansion were taking their toll.
Gabriel ran his hand across the bridge of his nose, pushing away the last vestiges of sleep.
So—why did Bishop Marika need Michel?
"And Michel? Has he left already?"
"No. He's stubborn. Says he won't go anywhere until he reports to you personally. He's practically telling the bishop to go to hell."
_You've found yourself an excellent subordinate,_ Raphael's expression seemed to say. Of course, it wasn't praise—pure irony. This "excellent" subordinate was a genuine headache.
Gabriel stood and began to tidy himself up. Raphael helped, dusting off his clothes and straightening them.
"So Father Giovanni did spill information about Michel after all? That old man has completely defected to Bishop Marika. A hypocrite with not a shred of loyalty left in him."
The only bishop who had seen Michel at the time was Giovanni. It wasn't difficult to guess whose machinations lay behind this summons. First, he had sent a spy disguised as a teacher to the Rohanson mansion, and now he had decided to act directly.
Raphael was about to burst into righteous indignation, but Gabriel stopped him.
"Father Giovanni is not as heartless as you believe."
"This old man only acts like a saint in public! In reality, he cares only about his own gain!"
"Raphael, I owe a great deal to Father Giovanni."
"In my opinion, Captain, you did him a far greater service. After all, he became a bishop only thanks to you."
As a child, it had been Giovanni's help that allowed Gabriel to escape the slums and end up in a church orphanage. Moreover, thanks to him, Gabriel had been able to give his older brother—with whom he had lived at the time—a proper burial.
Many years had passed since then. Giovanni's former kindness may have faded, but for Gabriel, he would always remain the man who had once extended a helping hand during his most desperate moment.
However, this was only his perspective.
Raphael considered the matter differently. Having been born the son of a duke, he took kindness for granted, viewing sending a child to an orphanage as standard procedure rather than a gesture of generosity.
And even after that, Gabriel—still a boy—had joined the order. Now, as its commander, he served Giovanni almost hand and foot, having long since repaid his debt with interest.
Since discussions of Bishop Giovanni always sparked controversy, Gabriel decided to focus on more pressing matters.
He called over Michel, who was waiting hesitantly near the captain's room.
"Captain."
"Michel, Bishop Marika did not explain the reason for the summons?"
"No, she gave no reason, but I believe it concerns only the painting."
Gabriel thought so too. There was simply no other reason to summon Michel, and yet it was alarming that so much time had passed since the fire.
After the priest Berga was brought from the monastery where Daisy had lived, attitudes toward the painting had changed dramatically. Those who had recently admired it now pretended they had never been interested, trying not to mention it at all. At the same time, concern persisted that the painting's influence could spread further and lead to more cases like Berga's.
That was precisely why Gabriel had asked Evangeline to be his partner at the ball. To erase the painting's enchanting influence, a being with far greater influence was needed.
That being was Lady Evangeline.
Indeed, people who had previously spent days and nights before the painting returned to normal after encountering the lady standing before the flaming canvas. The only peculiarity was that no one could truly remember Evangeline afterward. Only a vague image of a dazzlingly beautiful girl remained in their memories.
Perhaps only Michel remembered the lady with genuine clarity.
Most of the visitors to the main temple who had seen the painting were aristocrats and wealthy merchants. Furthermore, rumors suggested that many idle onlookers had gathered around the canvas. It was impossible to verify who exactly had been affected by its influence or visit each one at their residence. Only one option remained—to go where these people frequented most often: high society.
The temple kept a visitor's register, and he and Evangeline planned to attend precisely those receptions and balls where people who had viewed the painting were likely to be. They needed to exploit her influence, but strange rumors about the lady herself were becoming a serious obstacle. For someone who had never appeared in society before, the whispers were suspiciously thick, giving the impression that someone was deliberately spreading them.
To attend as many receptions as possible while simultaneously silencing the damaging rumors about Evangeline, the best solution was Gabriel's accompaniment. His reputation in society was impeccable, and the presence of the holy knight was meant to quiet the gossip surrounding the lady.
He had feared she would refuse, but after hearing the explanation of the situation, Evangeline had accepted the offer. Since she wished to behave like a normal aristocrat of her age, it truly was a sensible choice.
Gabriel was surprised to notice how his thoughts had slipped back to Evangeline, and he forced himself to refocus. He needed to think about Michel and Bishop Marika now—not her.
By the way...
Gabriel studied Michel.
Kanna had spoken as if she alone had survived that horror, but Gabriel knew of another such person. A subordinate of his who had become a fervent fanatic.
"Michel."
Kanna, of course, knew nothing. Gabriel hadn't told Evangeline about Michel's eccentricities, and Michel himself tried to restrain himself and behave decently in the lady's presence.
"I want to ask you something."
"Then perhaps I should prepare the shovel right away?"
"I'm not joking. The moment Lady Rohanson splashed water on you..."
"Ah, yes. Then."
"What did you see?"
Could it be that Michel, too, had witnessed that unnatural crimson world, just as Gabriel had? Michel's face took on a dreamy expression, as if he were recalling that moment.
"White."
If "white," then only one creature fit that description. Michel continued speaking, as if half-asleep.
"The whole world was engulfed in flames, and only she remained perfectly white. As if she had already burned and turned to ashes. Like Donau..." He paused. "Oh yes, of course—I understand that Lady Rohanson cannot be compared to such a thing now."
Unfortunately, what they had seen didn't match. According to the description, Michel—whose body had been consumed by heat while flames raged before his eyes—had seen only Lady Rohanson at that moment. Evangeline preferred white garments, and on the day of her visit to the main temple, she too had been wearing a white dress.
"Oh yes, and the eyes. I saw eyes. Not patterns, like in the painting, but *real* eyes. Perhaps it was some kind of halo?"
This was new. Eyes? Were they the same ones Gabriel himself had seen?
"Why didn't you mention this before?"
"Because everyone thinks I'm mad! Everyone except you, Captain!"
It wasn't so much that they thought him mad, though. Compared to his former self, Michel had truly changed dramatically. He had once been shy, silent, and calm. Judging by his personality alone, it felt like they were two entirely different people.
So Michel had seen those eyes too.
Gabriel forgot his resolution not to think about Evangeline Rohanson for the moment and asked the next question.
"Michel, you... decided to worship Lady Rohanson after this?"
Kanna's words swirled through his mind again. *"If you endure, you can be loved."* Just as he struggled to push away the obsessive thoughts of the lady, Michel spoke in a fascinated voice.
"Actually, that wasn't the main thing."