"Hiss~"

The sound of cascading water echoed in the empty bathroom.

Annette’s complaining voice drifted from one stall.

“What was your Papal Majesty thinking? Using teleportation magic to dump us straight into Yahar City, then demanding we scrub ourselves clean… Does she even know our history? Demon Hunt and the Luminous Cathedral!”

“Just like that, two fiercely clashing people slowly draw together and fall in love…”

Annette turned. On the other side of the glass, True Dawn pressed her hands into a heart shape.

“Fall in love my ass!” Annette snatched the showerhead and blasted water at the glass. “Who’d ever want to be with that woman… together…”

She turned away, rinsing her back again. True Dawn’s voice floated over once more.

“So you really hate the Papal Majesty that much?”

“I do. A woman like her… what right does she have to be Pope!”

“You think she shouldn’t stand in the sunlight at all, right?”

Annette recalled Cecile in her mind.

So selfish it made her blood boil.

All she remembered was endless loneliness in darkness. The only markers of time were three meals a day and the numbing sting of whippings.

Her hand unconsciously brushed the spots where the whip had landed.

Her body didn’t ache, yet a faint tingling lingered.

For a moment, the girl wanted to cry.

Her life had been forced to change since then.

She’d meant to overthrow the witches—what was she doing now?

Allying with the Pride Witch’s Luminous Cathedral? This joke wasn’t funny.

“Did it hurt? I heard the Papal Majesty did something awful to you.” The voice suddenly sharpened.

“True Dawn. True Day Noah.”

“Huh? Right here!” True Dawn looked up, puzzled.

The fully exposed girl punched the wall without flinching.

“Don’t barge into others’ bathrooms.”

“Uh…” True Dawn blinked slowly.

She burst out laughing, yanked the curtain aside, and charged in.

“Hehe~ Don’t be shy!”

She lunged, wrapping her arms around Annette.

“Stop! What are you doing? Hey! Don’t touch there!”

“Wow! Never guessed it! Sister Annette’s chest is so full—her usual clothes waste it completely!”

“Sister Annette?!” A small head popped out beyond the curtain.

Witt peeked in. “Whoa! Looks fun—I’m joining!”

He pounced in after her.

“Hey! You two! Ah! Enough! Witt! True Dawn!”

“Euphemia, control your sister!”

Annette yelled helplessly as True Dawn and Witt clung to her.

At the far end, Euphemia stayed silent. After rinsing off, she quietly dried herself.

She didn’t move toward Annette.

If she went over, her sister might drag her in too. Struggle and risk hurting Witt? Or not struggle and end up like Annette?

Better not to go at all.

Drying off, she fastened the collar waiting outside around her neck and stepped out.

Outside, Aileen had been waiting.

She handed Euphemia the clothes she held.

“Your outfit for tonight.”

“Mine?”

Euphemia eyed the dazzling golden gown, glittering with what looked like diamonds, and stepped back. “You’re joking, right?”

She’d only seen such things on rich nobles—torn them, trampled them—but never worn one.

Even plain dresses were just dreams; her rough work ruined delicate fabrics.

“Yes. Prepared by the Papal Majesty,” Aileen said, stepping closer. “Don’t overthink it. She’ll adore seeing you in it. Just let your beauty shine.”

“…But someone like me…”

“Try it. Tonight, you’re not the bloodstained Radiant Sword Saint slaying foes. No boring orders. Just an ordinary girl out for fun. Toss worries to tomorrow—enjoy yourself!”

“Our everyday moments might be continuous miracles. Only by savoring the mundane do we feel alive.”

“If it still feels forced, wear it as your master’s command.”

“The Papal Majesty asked me to say this. She knows you might resist ordinary life, calling it a waste of time.”

After a long pause, Euphemia took the golden dress.

“Thank the Papal Majesty for me.”

Aileen shook her head. “She’d rather hear it from you.”

She pointed to the dressing table.

“Change, then sit. Tonight, you’ll shine like a gem.”

Inside the bathroom, True Dawn and Witt wrestled with Annette for a while. The three finally stumbled out, breathless.

The towel True Dawn used to dry herself dropped to the floor the moment they exited.

The room’s atmosphere froze into utter silence.

“Sis… Sister?” True Dawn gaped at Euphemia admiring herself in the mirror.

Her long hair was tied in a simple ponytail, matching her sharp features to create a strikingly heroic look.

An unmistakable boldness radiated from her brow.

The slightly open neckline framed her tall figure perfectly in the golden dress, shimmering under the lights.

Though modest, its soft elegance held unique charm.

Only the collar around her neck felt jarring, sparking uneasy thoughts—though True Dawn knew why it was there.

Euphemia turned and was instantly tackled by True Dawn.

Unsteadied, she hugged her sister back firmly.

“Sister, you’re so handsome! My dream prince! Let’s marry right now!” True Dawn shrieked excitedly.

“True Dawn, dress first. You’ll catch a cold…”

“Oh! Let me geek out! Handsome Sister!”

After squeezing and inspecting Euphemia head to toe, True Dawn finally hopped off, satisfied. She spun to Aileen, eyes sparkling.

“Sister Aileen, what did the Papal Majesty prepare for me? Same as Sister’s, right?”

“Actually, it may not meet your expectations.” Aileen held out the clothes.

A plain white dress—utterly ordinary beside Euphemia’s.

“Isn’t this what I wore today? Did you wash it, Sister Aileen?” True Dawn examined it skeptically. “Are you sure? Seriously sure?!”

“This is what the Papal Majesty chose for you—a brand new gown.”

“Eh!!! Why! Sister’s is glamorous, mine’s plain! The Papal Majesty’s biased!”

True Dawn grumbled but changed obediently.

Plain’s fine—simplicity has its own beauty!

Her bare face alone could outshine everyone here!

A pretty girl needs no extras!

“Miss Annette and Miss Witt… the Papal Majesty prepared outfits for you too.”

“We get some? Didn’t expect… uh, well… so formal, can’t refuse.”

“Thanks! Sister Annette, these look great!”