Chapter 292: The Rage of Saintess

"It failed!" Talia snarled, her golden eyes ablaze with anger. "How can you be so stupid!?"

The royal princess—once coddled, adored, and handed every luxury on a silver platter—was now forced to dwell among these pitiful peasants.

She had to play the role of the benevolent noble, smiling at fools who couldn’t spell their own names, and that alone was humiliating enough.

But this? This was unforgivable.

It had taken her months to cultivate those plants, Purple Light, and now they were nothing but ash.

Helen knelt before her, trembling as she tearfully gazed at her. "Y-Your Holiness..."

Her fearful voice only enraged Talia further.

Two guards stood like statues beside Helen, the very ones responsible for security.

Worthless. All of them.

She knew Xion wouldn’t sit idle. The very reason she had shown him the Purple Light was to provoke him, to test him.

She had baited the trap perfectly. And yet, everything had gone up in flames.

She had only been gone for a brief visit to Marquis Hale. How could everything unravel so quickly?

Talia had believed she’d stayed hidden. She knew she was being watched, that her every move was being scrutinized by those in power, but she hadn’t thought it mattered.

As long as she didn’t interfere with their interests, they would leave her be.

But now, she understood it more accurately. The Archduke wasn’t just indifferent to her anymore. He despised her.

And that filthy slut Xion, with his tainted past of living in slums and broken lineage, still managed to seduce the Archduke?

Talia’s lip curled in revulsion.

Xion was half-royal, and half-vermin. His father had fallen from power now. Marquis Vaelis wasn’t even a marquis in name anymore. He may have still held the title of a noble, but he wielded no real influence.

Xion, just like before, should have been beneath her notice. A gutter-born bastard with barely a thread of noble blood. Yet the world dared compare them?

No. Never.

She had been trained since birth. From the correct manner to walk to the polite way of speaking. They were even taught how to breathe in a courtly rhythm.

A single misstep could stain the family’s honor after all, and she had never failed.

But Xion had nothing. No tutors. No etiquette. No refinement. Yet somehow, that pretty little face of his, like some doll carved by divine hands, was enough to make people forget what he truly was.

Why?

Why did he get the recognition so easily, when she, who had bent over backward helping those filthy Northerners for months, hadn’t received so much as a scrap of praise from the Archduke?

Oh, wait. She had received something.

Early in the morning, a black box was delivered. The moment she opened it a chill ran down her spine.

It wasn’t the charred remains of her beloved Purple Light plant filled at the bottom of the box that scared her. Nor was it the bloodied head of her maid that looked straight at her with horrified eyes.

Just one look and one might guess how terrified the maid must have been before she lost her head.

Despite the gruesome sight, what terrified her was the box itself. There was no letter to address her, only the depiction of two swords entwined with thorny rose vines.

Darius Rael Darkhelm had sent her a clear warning.

Talia never took the warnings seriously, but this time it was different. She simply could not move against Darius.

At least, not until her title as the Saintess was formally secured. She had waited so patiently and when the fruit of her labor was only a few days away, she really couldn’t afford to deal with the street rat for now.

"No," she whispered, pacing like a caged beast. "I won’t get angry."

Her golden eyes, once wild, became calm all of a sudden. A gentle, almost serene smile curled at the corner of her lips.

Yes. She thought as she clapped her hands in excitement. I can use that.

Even Darius wouldn’t be able to trace this back to her.

"Cease the plan," she ordered to the guards. The next step of sending the Purrple Tea

to her beloved brother was halted.

"It’s time to give that bastard a little surprise." Her eyes glinted, sugar-sweet and soaked in poison. "Wouldn’t it be a shame... if that doll face of his got ruined?"

After all, what was Xion, beyond his face?

Nothing but a whore dressed like an angel, worshipped by fools who thought that he was the blessed.

Talia, not even for a second, had believed that Xion was blessed by the goddess.

Goddess Myrthia had long since fallen into a slumber. Even the church council seemed to be in a frenzy due to this. There had hardly been anyone born with the abilities for the last decade.

Well, she had killed a few kids to prevent future rivalries and it wasn’t like they couldn’t blame her for that. Who made them so weak?

And she had been devoted to the goddess for more than two decades. So, if the goddess was real, she should have received the blessing by now.

No one was more worthy than her. But no. There was no holy sign, so she had to create one for herself.

Sure enough, with her new power, the council had finally decided to hold the coronation ceremony for her.

That was why she was sure Xion was just a fake. A slut who used his face to curry favor with powerful people.

First, Soren Vaelis his own half-brother. The thought made Talia sick to her stomach. Then her royal brother Nikolai. Even if Nikola was good for nothing, he was still her brother.

She, a good sister, didn’t want to see her brother fall for someone dirty like Xion.

It would have been so much better if that blood-sucking monster Klein had done what he does best and left Xion a shriveled corpse.

But no. The Archduke had to step in and declare that the healer was his.

How infuriating.

But everything was going to be back on track.

"Send that to the Archduchy."

Helen bowed deeply before scrambling to fulfill the command.

Xion, on the other hand, was not as comfortable as Talia had thought him to be.

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