Rodrika had no reason to refuse. After years of torment and neglect, she was finally within reach of redemption.

The Hero might not be a good man—but he believed her father was wrongly accused. That was enough.

She nodded, glanced at Gao Ying, and followed Hilfier.

Hilfier offered Gao Ying an apologetic smile. "My apologies, Gao Ying. I need to discuss something privately with Rodrika. Please excuse us for a moment."

Gao Ying didn’t stop them. He simply nodded and buried himself back in his books.

Whatever Hilfier planned, Gao Ying had a rough idea. Knowing her malicious nature, he could guess her intentions all too well.

Hilfier led the visibly uneasy Rodrika to a secluded chamber deep within the Divine Court.

The room resembled a laboratory—walls etched with strange arcane sigils, its eerie atmosphere clashing sharply with the sacred grandeur of the Divine Court.

Hilfier murmured a prayer upon entering. Instantly, the magical lamps flared to life.

She pulled out a chair, lips curving into her ever-present smile. "Sit, Rodrika. Just us two now. No need to be so tense."

Rodrika’s violet eyes flickered over Hilfier’s warm smile. Unease coiled in her chest. That smile reeked of ill intent.

They’d met often—the Holy Maiden and the traitor’s daughter. Hilfier had frequently "rescued" Rodrika from the Court’s cold stares.

Logically, Rodrika should’ve been grateful. But every gesture felt staged, performed for an audience.

Coincidences happened once or twice. Not every single time.

Yet Rodrika bit her tongue. Speaking her doubts would brand her ungrateful.

Who would believe the traitor’s daughter over the Divine Court’s radiant Holy Maiden?

Only when Rodrika sat did Hilfier’s eyes narrow slightly, her smile deepening.

Leaning against the table, she looked down at Rodrika, savoring the view—and the surge of superiority it brought.

Her slender fingers brushed Rodrika’s lavender curls. "You wish to serve as the Hero’s guard knight, don’t you?"

Rodrika nodded. "If the Holy Maiden permits—"

"Hohoho." Hilfier’s laughter chimed like glass. She leaned closer, locking eyes. "The Hero has spoken. Neither I nor the Holy See would dare refuse."

Rodrika’s expression tightened. She knew it wouldn’t be that simple.

Just as expected, Hilfier’s tone shifted.

"My dear Rodrika, had you been an ordinary Holy Knight, I’d have placed you at the Hero’s side tonight. But you’re the heretic’s daughter…"

Rodrika shot back, "My father was no traitor!"

"Then you’re calling His Holiness the Pope the traitor?"

The words trapped Rodrika. To the world, the Pope’s "mercy" toward a traitor’s daughter was magnanimous. No one knew the torment she endured daily—whispers, sneers, a life worse than death.

Questioning the Pope meant ingratitude. So Rodrika swallowed her rage and hunted for the truth in silence.

Hilfier’s smile widened at Rodrika’s silence. A finger hooked under Rodrika’s chin, forcing their eyes to meet.

"Six years ago, evidence vanished. How can you possibly uncover the truth now?" Hilfier sighed softly. "Bishop Radel stood one step from the Papacy. Why would he risk everything to assassinate the former Pope?"

Her words echoed Rodrika’s own doubts. Rodrika stared at her, bewildered.

"Rodrika, there’s more to that night. Most witnesses were silenced… but one survived. One who saw everything."

Hilfier leaned in, her whisper brushing Rodrika’s ear.

Rodrika’s pupils contracted. "...Name your price."

Hilfier giggled. "Dealing with clever girls is so refreshing. The old Pope and I aren’t allies. Prove your loyalty, and I’ll share the truth."

Her eyes glinted like a fox’s.

This was her game: leash Rodrika. Use her hatred to spy on Gao Ying. Use her father’s legacy to threaten the Pope.

Bishop Radel once commanded legions. Though most loyalists were purged, distant bishops still lingered in the shadows.

Give Rodrika the truth. Point her toward rebellion. Let her shatter the Pope’s throne. Hilfier would watch them tear each other apart.

*Be my pawn, dear Rodrika.*

Rodrika’s voice was barely audible. "I accept."

She had no choice. A traitor’s daughter held no bargaining power.

"Good. But trust must be earned. The Pope won’t trust you either. So… one more condition."

Hilfier produced a vial from a cabinet. Its liquid glowed an eerie green. She set it before Rodrika.

"Drink, Rodrika. This is the fate of a traitor’s daughter."

"Poison?" Rodrika gripped the vial, hesitating.

"Yes. Obey me, and I’ll provide the antidote. Disobey…"

Hilfier’s expression turned icy.

The message was clear.

Want the truth?

Want your father’s name cleared?

Want to stay by the Hero’s side?

"Is this the price?"

The price was her entire future. Could she trust this woman?

She had no other choice.

Rodrika uncorked the vial, took a deep breath, and drained it in one gulp.

Hilfier clapped slowly. "Worthy of Bishop Radel’s blood. Such courage. Now—go attend to the Hero."

"Remember," she purred, tracing Rodrika’s jaw, "fulfill his every wish."

"*My dear Rodriiiika~~*"

Rodrika’s eyes dimmed. "...Understood."