"Shouting's tiring. Let me rest a bit."

The sweet-faced idol, flushed crimson, reluctantly leaned against Lenna’s shoulder. Moonlight spilled over her fingertips, and for a fleeting moment, she wished this could last forever.

A bitter smile tugged at her lips. *I’m losing it. Lenna stole my body and soul, yet here I am worrying about her mental state.*

Wasn’t that utterly absurd?

But reality was crueler than any film. Not only did Angela think she was ill—Lenna clearly believed Angela was genuinely a little unhinged too.

*Wasn’t this textbook Stockholm Syndrome?*

No wonder she’d become that future saint who saved everyone. This Holy Maiden had always been a lily-white saint, unable to bear seeing anyone hurt.

*Heh. Fool.*

“What’re you staring at? Something on my face?”

The naive, childlike Holy Maiden scrubbed her cheeks, found nothing, and snapped, “So are you in or not?!”

*In or out.*

A tough call.

Lenna had to admit Angela had guessed part of her thoughts—but she refused to let herself be so easily read. Just as Angela said: a hint of tsundere pride flared in her chest.

Worse, Angela seemed to have glimpsed the old debts Lenna carried.

She *did* have burdens. Heavy ones. Rebirth. Revenge. Secrets no one must ever know.

Yet by coincidence or fate, both Agnes and Angela had sensed her hidden turmoil. Though they knew nothing of the truth, their attempts to help pricked at Lenna like stepping barefoot on a thumbtack.

“This feels like you’re proposing to me,” Lenna murmured, lowering her eyes like a shy bride.

“Don’t push it,” Angela huffed, plopping back onto her chopstick-straight legs and grinding them down in retaliation. “I don’t know what schemes you’re cooking up, but if it’s within my power, I’ll likely consider things from your perspective.”

The words sounded like a confession. Angela’s cheeks burned as she realized it.

*All I want is for this devil to treat me better. To stop bullying me over nothing. Is that a confession?*

*We’re not even friends!*

“A-anyway! The contract’s signed in black and white—I couldn’t harm you even if I wanted to! What’s there to worry about?”

“Do I look like someone who fears death?” Lenna met her gaze and sighed. “I just...”

“Just *what*?” Angela pressed.

*I just can’t accept help from the person who killed me in my past life.*

Didn’t that seem strange?

The one who’d tried to end her now bent over backward to save her.

After all Lenna had done to her, Angela still charged in blindly. This Holy Maiden’s sympathy was misfiring—aimed squarely at a dying woman like her.

“Just treat me like an idiot!” Angela dropped the subject abruptly. “What about Alice and Emma? Do they have something special?”

Lenna seized the lifeline. “They’re important.”

“But I don’t see how. Do they have secrets?”

“Well...”

Lenna hesitated.

If she told Angela these two would one day unleash a storm of bloodshed—and nearly slay the Holy Maiden herself—what then?

Her reputation would shatter. Angela would think her insane.

“You’re holding out again. Talking to you is exhausting.”

“I... I can only say they’re vital. Rare talents who shine brighter together. That’s all.” Lenna surrendered, hoping Angela would understand.

Angela nodded slowly. “I think I get it...”

“Good...”

Lenna felt drained. If she could redo this life, she’d “deal with” this overly kind Holy Maiden on the spot.

*No room for lily-white hearts. This saint’s mercy will cost her dearly someday.*

“Oh! It’s late—I can’t miss tonight’s final prayer!”

Angela’s drowsy yawn froze mid-stretch. Her eyebrows shot up as she scrambled to her feet. “I’ll wait for you?” Lenna asked, her voice thick with sleep, lazy and smooth as a violin’s hum. “The girlfriend of a rising idol waiting outside the convent for her star to finish work? Sounds perfectly reasonable.”

“W-what nonsense... Who’s your girlfriend?!” Angela stammered, fleeing before the words fully landed.

Lenna opened her eyes just in time to catch a flash of pale pink—a flustered earlobe trembling under flickering lamplight—as Angela vanished into the night.

Angela didn’t know why she ran so fast. Only that putting distance between herself and that infuriating beast might calm her racing heart.

She braced her knees, lungs burning. *Breathe. Slow down. Don’t let them see.*

“Good evening, Angela.”

“Ah—good evening, Sister Theodora.”

The convent nun showed no surprise at her late arrival. Angela’s image remained pristine: a diligent, gentle noblewoman fallen on hard times. Though her Cavendish Family had lost its luster, its influence still rivaled the Falmore Family’s—and earned her kindness here.

“It’s quite late. Not skipping the final prayer, I see?” Sister Theodora smiled warmly. She favored this Holy Maiden candidate—hardworking, clean-handed compared to the scheming others.

“Mm.” Angela nodded, hiding her lateness.

After a polite farewell, the long prayer began—a ritual stretching till dawn. Angela was used to it...

The convent’s silence was perfect for daydreaming. She had no faith, only a kneeling pose for show. To others, she looked ethereal; in truth, she was slacking off.

*Why not? Sit here a while, earn holy redemption money. Easy cash is the best cash!*

Angela believed it wholeheartedly...

Her mind drifted. Weight lifted from her body. Knees stopped aching. She floated on clouds—and there, standing pristine upon them...

*Huh. That face looks familiar...*

“Lenna!” The name burst out, shattering the chapel’s stillness.

*Oh no.*

Regret hit instantly. Dozens of eyes pinned her. *Since when does closing my eyes summon her? Since when does her name slip out like a virus?*

“Damn devil. Haunting me even here,” she muttered under her breath, face burning, a hint of grievance in her eyes as she buried them in her knees.

*Is she still waiting out there? It’s so late... and cold...*

*Wait—why do I care?!*

*Annoying beast!*

*Freeze to death for all I care!!*

Angela refused to admit she’d begun caring for Lenna—just as Lenna refused to ask her for help, shouldering fate alone.

They mirrored each other in hidden ways, yet clashed in every action.

But this fixation? It wasn’t love.

Angela was certain...

*“I’m saving myself... Yes. To escape the devil’s grasp.”*