Thiendavis – For The Perfect Salvation

Chapter 38: On Thorns

"Watch over me from Thienda!"

That was Evie's first demand, which Zion found perplexing.

And somewhat impudent.

Only a few days ago, Thienda was abuzz with suspicions about the two of them.

And now she wanted to be watched in this chaos.

The request was akin to asking to be protected and displayed like a flower screen that amplified the allure of her jade-colored dress, wanting Zion to become her protective lion screen.

Although it felt like an absurd favor, a promise was a promise.

So Zion returned to Thienda and even attended a flower viewing event he would usually ignore.

Now, he stood there, suspiciously watching Evie intently.

"Hello, Lord Valler. It's been such a long time."

"Ah, Madam. Have you been well? As for me, I'm always healthy."

"I regretted not being able to attend, Viscount Verde. Please invite me again next time, I will surely come."

Meanwhile, Evie, with a bright face, greeted the familiar noble guests as she moved around.

It was Evie's first time mingling with the nobility like this since the disastrous banquet at Laurel Castle.

Afterwards, she remained at the center of controversy, undergoing a long period of reflection.

Normally, curious noblemen would have besieged her with questions, but at this flower festival, none dared to approach Evie recklessly.

Moreover, the nobles treated Evie far more politely than usual, and especially the young male nobles stepped back visibly, aware of the person over Evie's shoulder.

Thanks to this, Evie could comfortably wander under the Wisteria without worrying about the curse.

Though this would likely fuel more wild rumors about Count Laurel, Zion decided not to care.

He'd already come this far and couldn't be bothered with the chatter of Thienda's nobility.

What truly annoyed him more were the restless subordinates shifting uneasily behind him.

"Apologies, I speak out of concern..."

The anxious deputy commander finally spoke up after much hesitation.

"My younger brother is still a novice. There's not a speck of manliness in him, and he's only fond of chatting and drinking tea. Haha."

The deputy commander laughed with a voice cracked like he had swallowed sand, leaving Zion wondering if there was supposed to be a point.

Morren Arco, the Deputy Commander, is the eldest daughter of the Arco Count family, which is famous for its belligerence..

Somwhere, there existed a brother who didn’t fit the family’s image at all, and he was now escorting Evie nearby.

Already tense from the supreme commander's capriciousness and impulsiveness, Morren was on high alert.

The supreme commander had been unpredictable, and at every turn, Evie Ariate was involved.

Morren had been tense since arriving in Thienda, with her senses sharp towards the saintess candidate.

Unfortunately, Morren's clueless brother had appeared alongside Evie, and Morren had been sweating nervously from that moment on.

"Look at those clothes. Doesn’t he look more like a doll than a man? He’s still a kid, he’d suit shorts or a skirt. Who’d think of him as a man? Haha."

"Quiet."

"Yes."

Zion snapped, and the chattering Morren fell silent, still anxiously glancing at Zion.

Zion inwardly sighed as he watched.

Morren seemed worried about him getting jealous of her brother, but, regretfully, Zion wasn't one to entertain such frivolous emotions.

He didn't empathize with the feeling called jealousy, nor with obsession.

He was naturally talented, well-placed in the Laurel family, and gifted in looks, physique, and intellect — there was nothing to hang onto needlessly.

While there was a minor flaw in being a bastard, he had overcome it magnificently at the age of seven by rising through the family as a legitimate successor, attracting an annoying amount of affection during his youth.

Because of this, he never felt any lack.

Therefore, the idea of anyone painting him with such base emotions, or any misunderstandings by the deputy commander, was utterly laughable to Zion.

Moreover, Morren's brother barely registered in Zion's eyes.

Watching Evie weave through the crowd was engaging enough.

'You're moving around quite a bit.'

Zion thought as he watched Evie tirelessly interact.

Initially, when Evie had asked him to watch over her, he found it absurd, predicting a tedious time.

But to his surprise, watching Evie wasn’t as boring as he had anticipated.

Honestly, it was quite interesting.

The Wisteria bloomed profusely, as did the elegantly dressed hundreds of nobles.

Servants glided through the crowd like shadows, musicians tangled in corners, plates were continuously refilled whether anyone ate or not.

There were all sorts of elaborate decorations, appropriate music, pleasant laughter, and plenty of idle chatter.

For Zion, who had nothing to gain socially, the scene was all futile and predictable.

Yet Evie, like she was searching for gold along a riverbank, moved with unwavering diligence.

As she moved, she smiled beautifully, listened intently, and chatted excitedly.

Whenever there was a pause, she would glance around as if pondering something else.

To an onlooker, she might have appeared like a maiden thrilled by the festival, but Zion, knowing the workings of Evie's mind, saw her as a busily working squirrel.

Thus, he didn't tire of watching her.

The Evie who played with Zion in Vis seemed more like a relaxed, playful cat, but seeing her so vigilant now felt unfamiliar.

As Zion was lost in these thoughts, observing Evie, a wily voice came from behind him.

"Oh, Count. I see you here."

Light footsteps approached, but Zion didn't bother to look back.

He hadn’t given leave for casual conversation and already recognized that suggestive voice as that of Marquis Montera.

"I hadn’t heard you were attending the flower festival. Had I known, I would have come earlier."

Despite being ignored, Marquis Montera continued affectionately. He then followed Zion's gaze.

"What are you so intently observing...?"

Montera's eyes naturally scanned in Evie's direction, prompting Morren to step forward, hands clasped behind her, blocking his view.

Startled by Morren's sudden appearance in his sightline, Montera quickly shifted to a charming smile.

"Nice seeing you around often these days, Lady Isla."

"Marquis, His Excellency is enjoying the flowers."

"With Lady Isla by his side, His Excellency must find it disappointing to be engrossed in other blooms."

Montera's playful jabs were met with Morren's steadfast conviction of his unsavory character, though she still offered a courteous smile in response.

Morren was both a diligent deputy commander and the young count of Arco, as well as Lady Isla.

All were esteemed titles, but Montera’s insistence on addressing her as Lady Isla while she assisted the supreme commander dressed in the attire of a guardian made Morren grind her teeth in irritation.

"It's not like that, the Lord doesn't have such poor taste as to see people as flowers."

"Well, that's fortunate. I wondered if I'd need your consent, but it’s delightful to find he was truly admiring Wisteria."

Despite the bone in her words meant to express displeasure, Montera responded with cheer.

Before Morren could grasp the retort, Montera briskly stepped around her, and she realized her mistake belatedly.

.

.

.

"Evieeee!"

The voice, akin to calling a puppy, was warm.

An inappropriate tone to call a lady's name.

Evie, sensing an ominous feeling, turned to look back — and found a tall man's shoulder obscuring her view.

"Mmpf!"

A man abruptly embraced Evie, pressing her face against his chest imbued with a heavy scent of cologne she desperately tried to pull away from.

The man burst into laughter and stepped back just a half step.

"Long time no see, I missed you."

He stated while still hovering close, looking down at Evie.

Evie muttered inwardly.

'Is he mad...?'

Being suddenly seized like that left Evie feeling deeply uncomfortable.

But she concealed that sentiment, never letting it show above her neck.

"Hello, Marquis Montera."

The reason being, the man before her was Cassel Montera, a marquis among the great nobility.

Cassel Montera was manifestly a wastrel.

Ten years Evie's senior, he possessed not a single corner that wasn't lavish.

His hair, appearing silver in the light and ash in darkness, was always meticulously styled, his face constantly holding a flawless, pale hue.

To highlight his slender figure, he favored perfectly tailored blazer coats embroidered with gold and silver thread for a lustrous effect.

Yet, never did he wear the same coat twice.

The same applied to his jewelry, cologne, shoes, and trimmings of his belt, cuffs, or cravat.

The clothing draped over him boasted an astonishing price but invariably found rest in his dressing room after a single display.

Cassel Montera was among Thienda's most sophisticated and flashy individuals, keeping a constant shadow of scandal, which unfortunately, was mostly true.

Consequently, Evie cautiously regarded him as someone to be wary of.

"You've been well?"

Cassell asked, his tone gentler and kinder than usual.

"No, each day has felt like walking on thorns."

Thus, Evie could only answer truthfully.

Fortunately, Cassel took her words as a jest and laughed heartily.

"Yeah, must have been hard, because of a certain count."

'What’s going on with him today?’

Cassel smirked mischievously, sneaking glances at Zion, causing Evie a hint of confusion.

Cassel Montera was a man who knew neither loyalty nor restraint.

When Zion opposed Evie's sanctity selection, he was the first to pull back and observe.

Suddenly altering course today, he approached Evie openly even with Zion’s gaze piercing from his seat.

Perhaps he aimed to protect this pitiful civilian girl from the fearsome count?

But Evie doubted this man had such generosity, and she pondered his intentions before shuddering.

Cassel leaned in, burying his nose in the nape of Evie’s neck, inhaling her scent.

“A hint of the lower continent.”

Though he didn't physically touch her, he was close enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath.

Cassel’s murmur at this outrageous proximity irked Evie deeply.

"I loathe this smell."

Creativity flared within Evie as she imagined scenarios.

Visions of smashing his face with the back of her head or grinding her heel on his foot, even slapping him hard while asking if he’d gone mad crossed her mind.

Though these were all satisfying ideas, Evie chose none.

Aware of her position as a civilian-origin saintess candidate, she knew she needed to respectfully engage a noble of Cassel Montera's status.

Her patience rewarded by Cassel's quiet chuckle as his breath soured Evie's mood once more.

A firm, imposing grip intervened, seizing Cassel's shoulder and wrenching him away from Evie.

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