Eh...

Lucimia was surprised by Regino’s behavior, like a pebble shattering a still pond.

Although she is strikingly beautiful, attracting eyes like moths to a lantern, most people only steal glances. At most, they wrap their feelings in silk and hint. No one has ever been this blunt.

Regino’s forwardness stunned Lucimia, like a winter gust that slips under a collar.

Annoyance pricked first. Then a darker thought flowed beneath—she is a Dark Deity; could he survive that storm?

Moreover, she felt no interest in Regino. Never mind the gender of her past life; his little-adult act grated like sand in the teeth.

It wasn’t that she disliked mature children. It was that Regino wasn’t mature at all. He mimicked adult manners like a parrot in borrowed brocade, gestures flamboyant as fluttering fans, and rode his small achievements like a prancing pony, barging into every matter.

At least to Lucimia, a truly mature child wouldn’t look like this paper lantern.

But that was only her taste. In this world, people loved that veneer. Many girls were snared by Regino’s “elegant” words, squealing when he floated a rose over with magic.

“Wow, no wonder he’s the eldest son of a Count’s family, the academy’s top student. He speaks like a book warmed by the sun.”

“So cool! And that send-a-flower-through-the-air spell—amazing. I couldn’t do that.”

“Eh? The young lady still isn’t reacting.”

“Seriously, if it were me being confessed to, I’d say yes!”

“Forget it, we’re only viscounts and barons. We probably don’t match. Those two do—talented man, beautiful woman.”

Hearing that, Lucimia’s knuckles hardened like marble.

He deserves me?

Tch.

It’s just a puff of wind ferrying a rose like a leaf on a stream.

Lucimia scoffed, breath cold as frost.

She remembered fighting the Blue Ringed Octopus, when she commanded a cloud of splinters like a flock of swallows—lifted them, reversed their flight, then sent them darting at lightning speed to pierce the very center of those blue rings.

Could he do that?

Obviously not.

Even now, his rose wobbled like a drunken kite, proof he wasn’t practiced. And because Lucimia neither took the rose nor gave an answer, it had to hover there, sagging like tired wings, about to drop.

A 3rd-tier mage, and this is it? Is the medal tin?

She felt her self-taught magic outstripped his by a mountain and a river.

Still, Lucimia didn’t let rudeness spill like ink. Whatever else, he wasn’t a bad person.

She blinked, bowed like willow leaves touching water, and declined, “Thank you for the kindness. But right now is reception hour. Let’s not block the line. And—welcome to our home.”

It was the most “noble” sentence she’d spoken in this life, a cup of etiquette poured smooth.

Back then, she would’ve looked at him like trash and said, “Scram.”

With church people here, and a crowd like a market at noon, it was wiser to tidy her image, as long as he didn’t cling like burrs.

Besides, there were odd folk who liked her cold stare like a blade; the sharper she looked, the stickier they got. A little restraint was right.

He wasn’t stupid, at least had some sense. Regino quickly reached out, snagged the rose before it fell, and dipped his head. “My apologies. I rushed things. See you at the banquet.”

Regino left like footsteps fading down a hallway.

After he left, someone behind breathed a small, contemptuous “Tch…”

The second eye-catching figure stepped from the line—a Purification Knight of the church.

She was a girl, hair the color of red wine spilling to her shoulders, eyes blue as cut sapphires. Blue-trim lines traced her armor, unable to hide a young body like a willow sapling. At her hip hung a longsword, a ruby set in the scabbard like a burning coal.

The scorn had been hers.

Her face held a touch of youth, soft as fresh clay. Lucimia guessed she was the one her mother had mentioned—the same age as Lucimia, the youngest Purification Knight.

The other knights were tall, grown as oak trunks, so Lucimia was sure this girl was the one.

The girl strode to her, stopped within two meters like a hawk alighting, and gave a flawless knight’s salute. “Hello, Miss Lucimia. I’m Desty, a Purification Knight. I’ll be handling the Evil Entity detected here. Please advise me.”

“Mm-hmm. I look forward to working with you. Welcome.” Lucimia smiled like the first sun after rain.

Desty dipped slightly, then crossed the threshold with clean, crisp steps, wasting not a grain of sand.

She felt like a thunder-and-rain kind of girl, swift and decisive.

That was Lucimia’s first impression, a stamp pressed warm.

After greeting every guest, Lucimia’s feet ached like stones in her shoes. Standing motionless was harder than running, weight piling like snow.

Her mother sent the fake Kaeli to escort Lucimia back to the bedroom. They combed her hair again, smooth as flowing ink, and changed her into a fresh outfit like a new green leaf.

This time, she entered the banquet hall.

Tables big and small spread like islands before a tide, and the crowd gathered, whispering like bees in clover.

Lucimia’s entrance drew many gazes, eyes falling like rain. Ignoring them, she reached her own table and sat, spine straight as a bamboo stalk.

At the table were three from the Lancelot Family, three from Regino’s household, and the church’s Bazeroth along with Desty.

Surprisingly, even Vittor—whose flaw had been plain as a tear in silk—had come to the banquet. He sat at another table, face smooth as ice.

He should know he’d exposed himself. So why dare show up?

As Lucimia puzzled, Regino’s father signaled a servant to bring out a chest of wine. He spoke first, voice warm as amber. “This is our gift for the visit—top-grade fruit wine. Please accept.”

“Mm? You don’t need to be so formal. Our Exorcist Family doesn’t really mind such things,” Alvis said offhand, words dropping like stones.

Mother Mei shot him a glare like a knife flash, and Alvis fell silent.

Mother gave thanks, had the fake Kaeli pour, and toasted the other family with cups bright as garnets.

Then Regino carried a glass to Lucimia. “Miss Lucimia, did you know? Our fruit wine uses the latest techniques. The brew is full of fresh fruit aroma, like an orchard in spring. Fruit wine has the natural nutrients of fruit, too—great for health…”

Regino spoke to her in smooth ribbons, from the history of wine to its craft, then praised how fine his family’s wine was, fame spreading like geese. He wore knowledge like a scholar’s cloak.

Lucimia knew the trick. He was polishing favor, showing charm and learning to kindle interest. But everything he said, the Lucimia from before her rebirth had already studied. Interest wouldn’t catch; the more he talked, the more impatience crawled like ants.

“How about it, Miss Lucimia? Here, I’ll toast you.” He tipped the glass back in one swallow, then lifted the empty cup in display.

“Sorry. I don’t drink.”

“…Uh.” Regino held the cup awkwardly, then set it down like a cooled ember.

Across the table, Bazeroth patted Desty’s shoulder and introduced her to the group. “This is the church’s newly promoted Purification Knight, Desty. Come, Desty, say hello.”

“Hello, everyone. I’m Desty, a 4th-tier Swordmaster.” Desty stood and introduced herself, words clean as steel.

Lucimia felt she was very proper, posture straight as a line.

“Mm.” Alvis nodded, then asked Bazeroth, “What’s her Blessing?”

“‘Purify Corruption.’”

“Oh, that’s formidable.” Alvis couldn’t help giving her another look, eyes weighing like scales.

The Blessing ‘Purify Corruption’ mattered far more than most. It meant facing an Evil Entity would be no trouble, like fire meeting frost.