Irene Decided to Die - Chapter 35
“Saintess.”
Garan stepped forward, offering a gentle smile. However, it was the smile of a serpent, doing nothing to ease the tension. On the contrary, it only heightened her wariness.
To such a wary Irene, Garan asked,
“Do you not wish for revenge?”
At that moment, her heart plummeted. Irene slowly blinked as she looked at Garan. He was still smiling, looking right at her.
Was he saying this because he knew everything, or was he merely testing the waters? Either way, her response was predetermined.
“I do not understand what you are saying.”
Garan’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Do you truly not know?”
This time, she offered no reply. She needed more time to sort through her complicated thoughts.
Then, Garan continued on his own.
“No, you must be pretending not to know. It seems unlikely that you would simply accept Burt’s kindness without reason. There must have been something. And I thought that Burt was assisting in your revenge. Only then would it have been possible to accept someone you once despised, right?”
He wasn’t wrong.
“If you join hands with me, not only will your revenge be assured, but anything you desire will be yours.”
Was he aware that he was also a target of her vengeance?
“Of course, I am aware that I am also a target of your revenge.”
“And yet you make this offer?”
“While ruining others, I am confident I can persuade you, Saintess. I can offer you anything. Power, jewels, people.”
It was a tantalizing offer.
“How about it? My proposal.”
As if aware of its allure, Garan’s eyes sparkled, widening.
“Not bad.”
“I can at least satisfy you more than Burt,”
Garan said.
Burt was hurrying along.
Suddenly arising incidents were surely orchestrated by someone deliberately. It indicated someone had manipulated events from behind the scenes.
It must have been the work of someone wishing for him to be away, even for a moment.
With that thought, his steps quickened. Despite having assigned his most trustworthy subordinate to Irene, his anxiety refused to subside.
He couldn’t hide his nervousness, knowing all too well she wouldn’t turn to another.
Not understanding why this anxiousness plagued him, Burt knocked on the door of the Saintess.
Thud, thud.
The sound was louder than usual, echoing down the hallway.
“You have arrived?”
Although Sir Sizu greeted him, there was no time for formalities. Burt saw his puzzlement but only stared intently at the door.
“I’m entering.”
Knowing it was against etiquette, he entered, feeling another presence disappearing.
‘Garan!’
Identifying him wasn’t difficult.
Shah-Naz, by nature, was not good at hiding secretly; Sage was not the kind to do so. That left only Garan, skilled in shadow manipulation.
The most cunning among the remaining three kings.
“Are you alright?”
Burt asked, turning to Irene who was looking up at the night sky by the window, without forgetting to remain vigilant of their surroundings.
“I am fine.”
Irene calmly responded and closed the curtains.
“Have Garan come by?”
At Burt’s question, Irene looked at him.
“Is that something I must answer?”
It wasn’t. Though Burt had decided to join hands with Irene using revenge as a pretext, it wasn’t a fair contract for both sides.
“No, it’s not.”
“Then please leave. I wish to rest.”
As if his rush there had been in vain, Burt was quickly sent outside. He hastily ran his hands through his slightly sweat-dampened hair.
Why had he rushed here so urgently? Was it fear that Garan might harm the Saint he had struggled to save?
No, that wasn’t it.
Despite his serpentine nature, Garan was a rational king. He wouldn’t seek to kill the Saint who was barely saved. He might scheme otherwise, though.
Realizing this, Burt understood his emotions. He did not want to lose the Saintess, a source of rare joy, to Garan.
‘Now that Garan has made his move.’
Sage and Shah-Naz would not stay idle either.
Knowing the predicament if the Saintess sided with someone else against them.
And his prediction was accurate.
The next day, in the late afternoon, Sage came to see Irene, accompanied by Shah-Naz.
“We wish to see the Saintess.”
“The Saintess is still undergoing treatment and cannot receive visitors.”
“I am aware that the Duke Rostelle visited just the other day.”
“The Duke is of her family. But the king is not, is his highness?”
Despite being in the presence of individuals holding positions higher than his, Sir Sizu responded firmly, showing no intention of moving from the door.
And he wasn’t the only one guarding Irene’s door. There were also moderate faction clerics whom Burt had previously won over. They stood behind Sir Sizu, forming a human wall.
It was a formation that could be broken through, but doing so would cause a disturbance.
Sage did not wish for that, so he placed a hand on the agitated Shah-Naz’s shoulder as a sign to calm down.
Fortunately, Shah-Naz heeded Sage’s intention. No matter how thoughtless he might be, he was still a king of a nation, obligated to protect his people.
And he knew they needed the Saintess for that purpose.
