Life at the Church was peaceful, even a little dull. For devout believers, it might not feel like much of a burden. But for those whose faith wavered even slightly, it was pure agony.

Violette Gloria.

The current Holy Maiden of the Church.

Her gentle nature and beautiful, sacred appearance matched everyone’s imagination of what a ‘Holy Maiden’ should be.

Few knew this kind, graceful Holy Maiden had once been a Paladin of the Church before her ascension.

Violette shared similarities with most Paladins—yet differed in key ways.

She was holy yet inclusive, merciful yet kind.

But she was perhaps *too* gentle.

Before becoming Holy Maiden, she often chatted with her fellow Paladins, easing their doubts and anxieties.

She held high regard among the Paladins.

Yet after her appointment, the Paladins gradually grew distant.

Not because they no longer revered her—but because her past as a Paladin clashed with her new role as Holy Maiden.

Though never spoken aloud, outsiders would wonder: *How could a warrior sworn to slaughter and defense serve as a divine attendant?*

Unable to counsel her comrades anymore, the Holy Maiden volunteered as a confessional nun at the Delan Capital cathedral.

Her warmth and acceptance always left penitents walking away with relieved smiles.

Even though this duty consumed hours of her day, she embraced it gladly.

Truthfully, Violette disliked being Holy Maiden.

She found the title hollow.

Before, she could do meaningful work—tangible acts that helped others. Now, as Holy Maiden, she could do none of that.

So when her sister scolded her for "wasting time" in the confessional, Violette merely smiled gently.

"Sister! Are you going again?" Celine Gloria followed close behind Violette, her brow slightly furrowed.

The younger sister shared her sister’s beauty, yet their auras differed completely.

"Yes," Violette replied with a tender smile.

Celine bit her lip. "No one even knows what you do there. The Church officials just say you vanish all day."

"So what?" The Holy Maiden’s smile never wavered. "I don’t care what others think. Let them say what they will."

"But—but you’re not doing anything shameful!" Celine stamped her foot.

"There, there. I’m not upset, yet you’re worked up for me?" Violette gently pinched her sister’s pert nose.

"I just hate hearing them talk about you," Celine muttered.

"Let them talk. As Holy Maiden, this is all I *can* do now. I won’t stop just because of gossip."

Besides," she added warmly, "easing people’s burdens and sins... it makes me happy."

Golden sunlight caught the Holy Maiden’s hair. Her crinkled, smiling eyes dazzled Celine.

Celine stared, entranced.

*Sister is so beautiful...*

"Still," Celine relented, "let me try it sometime, okay?"

"Of course~" Violette nodded, smiling.

The shorter girl trailed behind her sister, gazing at that sacred, beautiful back with pure longing.

The people of Delan Capital never knew their confessional nun was the Church’s Holy Maiden herself.

They held no secrets from her—not because of status, nor the shadows of their sins.

One penitent left a deep impression on the Holy Maiden.

His voice sounded young—about her age.

A regular at the confessional booth.

He had a habit.

Every time he sat down, he’d sigh.

As if sighing was his constant state.

*Why so troubled?*

Violette could never quite understand.

Unlike other believers, he never knelt piously to confess.

Mostly, he just seemed to need someone to talk to.

"Sir, you’re here again," Violette greeted softly.

"Ah. It’s you again, Sister," came the unsurprised reply.

After all, she’d handled confessions here for weeks now.

"What would you like to confess today?" Her tone was gentle.

"Hmm..." The man paused. "Sister, I feel bad coming daily—rambling about trivial things. Am I wasting your time? Hoarding public resources?"

"*Public resources*?" Violette echoed the unfamiliar phrase lightly. "You always have such fresh, fitting words... But no. Confessions are sparse here. I’m happy to chat."

Her voice wrapped around him like warm cloth.

Violette sensed the heavy, unspoken worries in this young man’s heart. She wanted to lighten his load.

"I mean—what if I donate to the Church? Could you assign a priest or nun to talk with me after hours?"

"Well..." The Holy Maiden hesitated. "You truly need someone to listen? It needn’t be so complicated... I’m listening right now."

"No. I can’t keep taking your time like this. How about... one thousand gold coins?" He named a fortune without flinching.

"*One thousand!*" Violette gasped. "Sir, that’s unnecessary!"

"Sister, hear me out," his voice stayed calm. "If I keep that gold, I’ll likely waste it—on brothels, feasts, distractions. But if the Church takes it?"

"Think of all the good one thousand gold coins could do."

Violette had to admit—he was right.

"But... Sir, I still feel..."

"Then let *you* be my listener. Officially."

"Sir, my duty *is* to listen. No payment needed."

"Your work has real value to me. I need someone long-term—someone who won’t leak my words."

"Sister, your work is meaningful human care. If you still refuse... then know this: one thousand gold coins can’t buy my peace of mind."

"You put me in a difficult place," Violette sighed.

A thousand gold was wealth even to her—but she wouldn’t cross her principles for it.

"Consider it a donation, then. In exchange... just *listen*." His young voice cracked with exhaustion. "I’m begging you."

"Anyone... I just need one person to hear my madness."

"To hear the madness I can’t let anyone else know."

Silence stretched.

"...Alright."

The raw weariness in his voice broke her resolve. She accepted his not-unreasonable request.

The next day, a sack of gold coins appeared at the cathedral gates.

Violette lifted it, pressing her lips together.

From that night on, the confessional booth in Delan Capital’s cathedral glowed late into the dark.

"Sir?" The familiar footsteps, the sigh as he sat—Violette recognized them instantly.

"Sister?" Surprise colored his young voice. "You’re still here."

"Yes. But why request *me* specifically?" Violette asked gently.

"Your voice... it’s soothing. Talking to you feels easy."

"Thank you. So... what shall we discuss tonight?"

"I just got into Delan Hero Academy."

"Oh! That’s truly impressive—"

"Nothing special. What does admission matter..." Another sigh escaped him. "Truth is, I don’t belong there."

"Nonsense. Getting in proves your worth."

"No, no—I got lucky." A bitter chuckle. "Unlike those born blessed. I’m the only penniless wretch in the whole academy."

"But you tossed a thousand gold coins without blinking."

"*Now*, yes." Pride flickered in his voice. "When I first enrolled? My purse jingled with two copper coins. But I hustled. Made some coin."

"Oh? How?"

"Well..." His tone turned awkward. "I sold exam guides."

"Exam guides?"

"Yeah. *Fake* ones."

"*Fake*?" Violette tilted her head, puzzled. Though he couldn’t see her, he heard the confusion.

"Hero Academy exams... many spoiled heirs fail them. So I sold guides."

"But why *fake*?"

"Because I guessed the questions... heh..."

"And?" The Holy Maiden still didn’t grasp it.

"*Sigh*..." He sounded almost embarrassed.

"Real exam guides list official topics and formats. Mine? Just my best guesses from past papers."

"How accurate?"

"Sixty percent? Maybe."

"That’s remarkable!" Genuine awe filled her voice.

"Ah, well..." He chuckled, sheepish.

*Praise from an innocent voice like hers... really does hit different.*