An Angel’s Warmth, A Chilling Sweetness

Edith had barely stepped downstairs when she was immediately surrounded by the eager townspeople and injured congregating in the church hall.

They didn’t dare disturb Edith’s brief rest. Instead, they waited for her to descend on her own before stepping forward to express their gratitude, offering bouquets and gifts.

It was quite some time before the crowd finally dispersed. Edith struggled to hold the unique, vibrantly colored bouquets characteristic of the northern region.

Small baskets, brimming with roasted fish and baked goods, were arranged in a circle around the young woman’s feet.

With a helpless smile, she glanced towards Gwynevere and Daphne.

“Sister, could you lend a hand?” she asked. “Everyone is just too enthusiastic; I can’t possibly carry all of this by myself.”

Priest Morse, sensing the moment, discreetly stepped aside.

“Miss Edith’s recent tireless efforts are evident to all,” he stated. “These are heartfelt tokens from the town residents. Please accept them.”

“Miss Edith is truly an angel!”

Someone exclaimed.

Even the injured, still confined to their beds, echoed the sentiment. Those who could raise a hand offered a continuous, surging applause for Edith, who stood enveloped by flowers and gifts in the center of the hall.

“Hahaha, thank you all so much, I’m truly delighted!” Edith chuckled, looking from side to side. A hint of silver gleamed from her teeth within her warm smile.

Gwynevere stepped forward to relieve Edith of some bouquets. She peered into the baskets.

“These provisions were distributed by us to the town,” Gwynevere explained. “Theoretically, they are all the property of the Godfather. Edith, you can accept them without worry.”

Her blunt words, devoid of warmth, left everyone speechless. The previously cozy atmosphere in the hall seemed to drop several degrees in an instant.

“In such a cold winter, the fact that everyone is willing to share their precious food with me speaks volumes about their kindness,” Edith quickly interjected, smoothing over the awkwardness.

She then leaned closer to Gwynevere, whispering into her ear.

“Sister, perhaps you could say less for now? We can discuss things privately later, alright?”

Gwynevere immediately recognized from Edith’s reaction that she had spoken out of turn again. She nodded to Edith, then stepped back half a pace, bringing Daphne, disguised as Ellenore, into Edith’s view.

“This is Miss Ellenore Perkin, the Grand Chantress of the St. Mary’s Religious Domain,” Gwynevere introduced. “She is the sole survivor of the survey team and will be staying in Kohl Town for a while.”

Edith’s eyes lit up at the sight of Daphne, her smile becoming significantly brighter than before.

She forcefully thrust the remaining bouquets into Priest Morse’s arms, then stepped over the circle of small baskets to approach Daphne, eagerly taking her hands.

“I’ve heard my father speak of Miss Ellenore’s name many times,” Edith gushed, her voice filled with admiration as if encountering an idol. “Kind-hearted and devout, always veiled, with eyes as clear and green as emeralds.”

“To think the face beneath the veil is so divinely beautiful and moving,” she continued. “This is exactly how I imagined the Grand Chantress of the St. Mary’s Religious Domain should look!”

“Thank you, Miss Edith.” Daphne felt as though she stood before a small sun, radiating scorching heat and dazzling light.

Yet, this was one of Edith’s defining traits: her boundless enthusiasm and patience with everyone. Daphne didn’t find it unpleasant.

Edith seemed to realize her actions might have been overly forward for a first meeting. She promptly released Daphne’s hands, stepped back half a pace, and offered a slight bow.

“Those beastmen must have been terrifying, weren’t they? It’s fortunate Lady Vatitaya protected you, and you survived—I sincerely mourn for your departed companions. They were all devout followers of the Goddess.”

“Perhaps… we shouldn’t dwell on that for now,” Daphne said, feigning an expression of inexpressible sorrow. “Many of them were my close friends…”

Edith nodded in understanding, then gestured for Daphne to follow her.

“You must need a good rest now. Priest Morse has already reserved a room for you, and I gave it a quick clean myself this morning.”

“Miss Edith can show you to your room,” Priest Morse offered, seizing the opportunity when someone else took the initiative. He placed the bouquets beside the small baskets.

“I have several townspeople to visit this afternoon, so I apologize for not being able to accompany you.”

“Thank you for your hard work, Priest Morse. Leave it to me,” Edith said, waving her hand.

Several nuns, who had been tending to the injured, were clearly quite familiar with Edith. Finishing their tasks, they came over to help carry the small baskets and bouquets.

“Edith, let us help you take these to your room.”

“I’ll help too.” Gwynevere also bent down, picking up two small baskets.

“Oh, wonderful, thank you all!” Edith giggled. “Miss Ellenore, please follow me.”

Daphne cast a quick glance back at Priest Morse, who brushed past her on his way out of the church, before following Edith towards the side hall on the second floor of the church.

Kohl Town’s church was quite old; the stairs and floorboards creaked underfoot, feeling rather unstable.

Edith’s room was located in the south-facing section after turning left in the side hall, while Daphne’s room was in the innermost, north-facing part of the side hall.

This area comprised the nuns’ dormitories; male clergy were forbidden from entering this side hall. Thus, although Daphne had glimpsed it a few days prior, she had never personally stepped inside.

After delivering the items to Edith’s room, the nuns chattered amongst themselves as they headed back down to the main hall.

Gwynevere, trailing behind them, cast a sidelong glance at Edith and Daphne as they walked deeper into the hall. Her pause was brief; she quickly followed the nuns downstairs and departed.

“The nuns here are all very kind; you can approach them anytime if you need help,” Edith said, her enthusiasm unwavering. As she led Daphne forward, she softly explained the town’s situation.

“Of course, you can also come to me. However, beastmen attacks have become increasingly frequent recently, and many of the town’s guards and venturing residents have suffered serious injuries. Everyone is busy tending to the wounded, so things might be a bit overwhelming.”

“Mm-hmm, thank you, Miss Edith, I understand,” Daphne replied, nodding repeatedly.

Her mood had genuinely lightened considerably.

‘It was far more comforting than being with Gwynevere; Her Highness the Saintess was a complete stick-in-the-mud, only capable of making the atmosphere incredibly awkward and unpleasant.’

‘If there’s a chance to bring Edith to the St. Mary’s Religious Domain, then continuing to impersonate Ellenore wouldn’t be unacceptable.’

“Here are the keys! Priest Morse entrusted them to me; there are two sets,” Edith announced. Reaching the door of the innermost room, she pulled a small keychain from her skirt pocket, bearing two identical brass-colored metal keys.

She inserted a key into the lock, turned it, and gently pushed the door open, gesturing for Daphne to enter first.

The room’s layout was quite similar to those of the male clergy on the other side: a simple wooden plank bed, a pine wardrobe, and a north-facing window. The only addition was a mirror on the table.

It was impeccably clean, not a speck of dust visible.

To call it a “quick clean” was a considerable understatement. Daphne knew Edith’s nature; she would have meticulously scrubbed the room multiple times until she was utterly satisfied.

Lost in thought, Daphne hadn’t even noticed the soft click of the door closing behind her.

Only when a distinct ‘click’ of the lock turning sounded did Daphne realize something was amiss.

“Miss Edith, what is this?” she questioned.

Edith, her back currently to Daphne, withdrew the key from the inside keyhole and returned it to her skirt pocket. After twisting the doorknob and pushing and pulling to confirm it wouldn’t easily open, she slowly turned to face Daphne.

“Why, to discuss things only girls can talk about, of course.”

Her smile remained unchanged, yet it sent a shiver down Daphne’s spine. The blonde girl, whom she had perceived as angelic and kind, now seemed both familiar and utterly foreign.

“Miss… El-len-ore~” she enunciated, each syllable drawn out with a chilling sweetness.