A Morning of Tears and Trepidation

As the rooster’s crow echoed, dawn was just breaking. A sliver of morning light streamed into the room through a gap in the curtains. Daphne, curled up at the edge of the bed, was silently wiping away her tears.

‘Ellenore Perkin was likely not a particularly strong-willed individual.’ In her current tearful state, Daphne’s appearance was utterly endearing, making one almost want to tease her mercilessly.

Her silk nightgown lay in disarray. Faint red kiss marks and teeth imprints were clearly visible upon her skin. Her slender legs, clad in white stockings, trembled slightly as she hugged them to her chest.

Daphne had endured a truly restless night.

Although Edith had told her to rest well, as the night deepened and silence settled, she had returned to knock on Daphne’s door once more.

The mere memory of last night’s events brought Daphne to tears yet again.

Edith had forced her into this revealing nightgown, only departing as dawn approached.

Thankfully, it had only been kisses and bites for now, without escalating to anything deeper.

Should she discover that a particularly conspicuous trinket had been placed upon her, Daphne’s last vestiges of self-respect would shatter completely.

Yet, that day would inevitably arrive. Daphne knew all too well that it was merely a matter of time.

The poor half-blood maiden could only pray for that day to be delayed.

All Daphne could do now was console herself with the thought that her first time with Edith was better than with some stranger.

“Waaah… give me back my little angel…”

At this thought, Daphne couldn’t help but burst into tears once more.

She had actually hoped to find solace in Edith before returning to Kohl Town. Instead, she discovered Edith was far more dangerous than Gwynevere. Compared to this true predator, Gwynevere’s mere caresses seemed naive and innocent.

‘What was she to do now?’

If she wished to remain in Kohl Town and continue to reap benefits under the guise of Ellenore, it seemed she would be forced to yield to Edith. At the very least, Edith was willing to conceal her identity and even provide cover for her in more perilous situations.

Moreover, Daphne had no real means of escape.

Unlike last time, teleportation magic would leave no traces, making it impossible to track. Thus, there was no fear of Gwynevere pursuing her.

However, escaping via ‘Shadow Sprint’ would lead to her being effortlessly apprehended by the Templar Knights who walked the Path of Radiance. If Edith sensed anything amiss, she could expose the truth, rendering even a full day and night’s head start utterly useless for Daphne.

‘It seemed she had truly messed up this time.’

‘She was destined to become Edith’s plaything, entirely and irrevocably.’

‘She could only take things one step at a time.’

As Daphne wallowed in her sorrow, a sudden knock echoed at her door.

Having developed a deep-seated fear of knocking, she startled, nearly tumbling from the bed. When the knock sounded again, Daphne realized its rhythm was steady and reserved this time.

‘Not Edith?’

Daphne’s anxious heart eased slightly. Trembling, she descended from the bed, forgetting her boots entirely, her delicate, white-stockinged feet treading directly on the floorboards.

As she gently pulled open the door, long, platinum-blonde hair shimmered brilliantly in the faint corridor light. Bathed in the morning glow, Gwynevere appeared utterly sacred and flawless.

Her sky-blue eyes fell upon Daphne, then quickly darted away. Upon seeing Daphne, Gwynevere immediately turned her head, shielding her face with a hand. Her voice held a hint of embarrassment. “Grand Cantor, your gown…”

Only then did Daphne notice that her slipped shoulder strap remained unadjusted, leaving half of her pale bosom exposed to the air.

Her face instantly flushed crimson.

“Forgive me, I’ve only just woken up and am not quite lucid yet.”

Daphne hastily offered an excuse.

With an awkward expression, she pulled her shoulder strap back into place, then instinctively reached to cover the kiss marks and teeth imprints. However, the gown itself was as sheer as a cicada’s wing, rendering her efforts to conceal them with her arms utterly futile.

Gwynevere’s reaction was peculiar. Normally, she would show no reaction to such matters, simply ignoring them as if unseen.

Yet now, Gwynevere appeared deeply embarrassed, and Daphne, in turn, felt equally mortified.

“I merely came to ensure you rested well yesterday. If I have disturbed you, I offer my sincerest apologies.”

Gwynevere stepped back half a pace and bowed slightly.

“It’s quite alright, Your Holiness,” Daphne cleared her throat, swiftly slipping back into her role as Ellenore. “I rested wonderfully, and I thank you for your warm hospitality. I simply require a little time to compose myself.”

“That is excellent news.”

Gwynevere attempted a smile.

She failed. The muscles in her face were stiff, creating an awkward, strained expression.

To Daphne, this clumsy effort was surprisingly endearing. She couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle. “Thank you for your concern, Your Holiness.”

“If you encounter any difficulties or have any needs, please feel free to seek me out. My room is just across the hall.”

Gwynevere, not dwelling on her failed attempt, turned slightly and pointed towards a room on the southwest side. “Of course, I am often away from the cathedral during the day, so you may also approach Cantor Edith. She is His Holiness the Pope’s adopted daughter and exceptionally caring, far more reliable than I.”

As she spoke, Gwynevere glanced towards Edith’s room, utterly oblivious to Daphne’s suddenly strained expression.

“When you wish to return to the Salentz Religious Domain, I can arrange for several Templar Knights to escort you back. War is imminent here, and this is not a safe place.”

She withdrew her gaze, then added.

“Please don’t worry about me. I have no immediate plans to return.”

Daphne nodded.

“Very well then, I shall take my leave for now. The Knights Templar have matters awaiting my attention.”

Gwynevere bowed once more. “Good morning, and farewell, Miss Ellenore.”

‘What was happening?’

‘For a moment, she actually felt a surge of warmth.’

‘Could Gwynevere truly be the good one after all?’

‘Compared to coercion and threats, a simple chest rub wasn’t unforgivable. At her age, it was a normal physiological need, and punishing an arrogant half-blood imp even aligned with the status and position of a Saintess of the Church of the Blazing Sun… No, that’s wrong! That last part is definitely wrong!’

‘But if Gwynevere were to learn of Edith’s true nature…’

“Uh, wait—”

Seeing Gwynevere about to turn and depart, Daphne instinctively called out to her.

But swiftly, Daphne recoiled in alarm from her own thought.

Pleading for Gwynevere’s help would simultaneously expose her own identity. Compared to Edith’s cunning and dark intentions, Daphne’s deception as a half-blood impersonating a Grand Cantor was far more unforgivable.

She and Edith were, in essence, grasshoppers tied tightly to the same string. However, Edith possessed the power to cut that string and protect herself, while Daphne could only passively accept her fate.

“Is there anything else, Miss Ellenore?”

Gwynevere paused, turning back to inquire.

“N-nothing at all. Please take care, Your Holiness.”

Daphne hastily suppressed the dreadful thoughts in her mind, then offered a practiced, businesslike smile.

Gwynevere nodded and then departed. Yet, no sooner had the sound of one pair of heels faded than the soft tread of flat leather shoes echoed from the opposite direction.

Long, brilliant golden hair shimmered in the morning light. However, to Daphne, that color signified a particular kind of hell.

With sea-blue eyes, distinct from Gwynevere’s, Edith gazed coldly at her. Edith stood just outside Daphne’s door, her expression frigid, clearly burning with suppressed fury.

“If you complain to my sister, you already know what your fate will be,” Edith stated coolly. “Don’t do anything foolish. Just be a good toy for me.”

Observing Daphne’s slight tremor, the icy facade on the golden-haired girl’s face instantly melted away. She offered a sweet, knowing smile.

“Come to my room, little darling. It’s time to get you changed.”