Hale took in the scene before him. This exquisitely beautiful girl—meant to embody purity and sanctity—now regarded him with the unguarded innocence of a child.
Her slender legs, sheathed in white stockings like a fawn’s, and delicate feet lay openly before him, offered for his gaze.
Her dress hem wasn’t high; her legs slightly parted, a hint of white visible in the shadowed gap.
He knew exactly what that sliver was.
Frankly, he wasn’t some paragon of virtue. In this situation? Looking wouldn’t hurt. Not looking would be a loss.
Yet her calm expression suggested this was deliberate.
In the game’s storyline, Christine only wore such casually sweet outfits during stable daily side quests.
If this were a normal encounter, she wouldn’t have invited him—nor waited like this as he arrived.
After a moment, the girl in white slightly drew her legs together. Her face remained serene, voice tinged with feigned irritation: “Enjoying the view, Baron Hale?”
“Quite the sight. Thank you for the display, Miss Vestal.”
Hale had no idea what game she was playing.
But this tone? Definitely off-putting for a girl. Today, he’d lean hard into being *that* guy—so Christine would never bother him again.
“I’m not the Vestal yet. Just a Vestal Candidate.”
“Right.”
Her words felt scattered, evasive. She’d clearly set this up for him to see… then swiftly dodged the topic.
In-game, Christine was the Church’s sharpest heroine. Yet she’d never shown interest in toying with men.
What was her real goal?
“Viscount Hale,” Christine said calmly, “I hear you enjoy toying with girls’ emotions.”
Hale’s stomach tightened.
Sure, Christine was canonically a yuri character—but her romance route was the most restrained among heroines. The story stated she’d devoted herself to saving souls, rejecting love. Her bonds with other girls felt like unbroken paper-thin tension.
But her hatred of corruption was absolute. Was this a trap? Testing his tarnished reputation?
He had to admit: her pose and attire were dangerously unguarded. Had lust taken over, he might’ve crossed a line.
The moment he tried anything, Silver Knights would likely emerge, blades at his throat.
So… she was fishing.
Good. It meant she disliked him—not desired him.
“I’ve no interest in toying with emotions,” he replied coolly. “But beautiful girls? Naturally captivating.”
He added, “Ancient eastern realms allowed multiple consorts. Why can’t Papal Dominion nobles?”
Peak turn-off talk. Hale figured the topic was dead. Just avoid giving her proof—and walk away clean.
Then Christine shattered his script.
“So confident, Baron Hale? Care to try toying with *my* emotions?”
She wasn’t playing fair. He knew it was bait. He wouldn’t bite.
Even if not a trap, romancing someone like Christine meant suicide.
And she was a yuri character—a Vestal Candidate. Why this “wanna play?” vibe?
Hale doubled down.
“Oh? Certain, Miss Christine?”
Pressing forward was his retreat. She’d never actually agree.
He added smoothly, “Since *you* proposed it… you take the lead.”
Checkmate.
In-game, Christine had admirers—but taboo yuri elements were just flavor. She never reciprocated. Like her title, she was a compassionate saint, not a lover.
“Baron Hale… you want *me* to pursue *you*?”
“Naturally. My heart was never meant for one woman.”
Christine fell silent, deep in thought.
Hale relaxed. *Good sign.*
Thirty seconds later: “If you’re disappointed, Miss Christine… sorry. This is just who I am. I’ll take my leave.”
“Wait.”
Before he turned, she rose. Her dress hem straightened, revealing slender legs sheathed in white stockings—the subtle curve at her calves enough to quicken any man’s pulse.
“Was I not sincere enough, Baron Hale? I prepared this outfit… this pose… just for you…”
*Don’t, Christine.*
Hale knew what came next. Guilt would follow.
*She’s acting. I know it.*
That thought dulled the sting.
But Christine pressed on.
“Do you think I’m lying? The Lord says truth cannot hide. You saw everything when you entered… even my under—"
A sharp inhale. She cut herself off.
"—It’s true.”
*If true, I wish it false. If false… just stop.*
No. Avoid disaster. He’d die before the heroine did. Whatever her game—he’d play it to the end.
“Then… may I look closer?”
Another bold feint. He had nothing to lose.
This was repulsive enough—any normal woman would recoil.
No turning back now. To seal it, he stepped inside and closed the door.
Only a small skylight lit the attic’s second floor.
Dim light. Eerie silence.
Christine stood motionless in a sliver of afternoon sun as Hale slowly approached, arm outstretched.
“If you truly want to play… let’s do something *adult*.”
“Oh?” Her voice dipped, coquettish. “And what does ‘adult’ entail?”
She wasn’t afraid.
He met her gaze.
“Spread your legs.”
