Hale left.

Neither Christine nor Maria could detect even a trace of disappointment from him.

Christine, however, remained unsettled by the memory of Hale asking her to part her legs.

Maria wondered if Hale had lost his mind.

How could he stay so calm? It almost felt like an illusion.

"Hmph. Just as the rumors say," she muttered. "He probably figured he had zero chance with Lady Christine, so he gave up instantly. Not like he lacks women anyway."

As Maria closed the door, she glanced outside. Hale’s back was straight, his steps brisk along the garden path—no hint of dejection.

Lofu had tidied his attire before he left, lending him a genuine noble air.

He looked handsome even to her. No wonder other girls would fall for him.

"Hmph."

Maria huffed. No wonder rumors claimed Hale could effortlessly play so many girls.

Prestigious lineage, decent looks—any ordinary girl would swoon at first sight.

But Lady Christine was destined to devote her life to the divine, guiding souls onto the righteous path.

Whatever. None of her business.

Back inside, Maria found Christine deep in thought.

Clearly, something had happened that even Lady Christine couldn’t quite grasp.

"Lady Christine… did Baron Hale act improperly just now?"

"No. He was surprisingly proper."

"Really? But just now, you…"

Christine met Maria’s puzzled gaze, paused, cleared her throat twice.

"What do you think, Maria?"

Maria instantly understood. Lady Christine had her own meaning.

...

No sooner had Hale stepped out of Ron Cathedral than he spotted a familiar figure.

Silver form-fitting armor. Golden hair slightly duller than Christine’s. Calves sheathed in white knee-high socks above tall boots.

Who else but Siman?

What was she doing outside Ron Cathedral?

Just as he tried to slip away unnoticed—

"Hey, Hale."

"What is it?"

He suspected she’d been lying in wait. But why?

"Did you observe proper etiquette meeting Vestal Candidate Christine?"

Siman had fumed since school ended—lunch untouched. By 1:30 PM, she remembered: Hale’s 3 PM meeting mattered deeply for House Faxius.

In the Papal Dominion, the Pope held supreme authority. The old Pope passed twenty years ago; no successor yet.

The new Pope must come from the seven Cardinal Bishops. Whichever Cardinal Bishop ascended, their Vestal Candidate would become Vestal.

Put simply: whoever won next year’s Vestal election could propel their Cardinal Bishop to the papacy.

Christine was a top Vestal Candidate. If she won, Hale upsetting her now would plant a landmine for House Faxius.

*If only he’d left a good impression…*

Forget it. Siman held zero hope.

Hale simply asked, "Did you come all the way to Ron Cathedral just for me?"

Siman froze. Something felt off—but she pressed on: "My father seeks goodwill with Cardinal Prelate Ron. If you upset Christine, the Ron faction may resent House Faxius. Be aware."

"Oh? So you fear collateral damage? Don’t worry." Hale shrugged. "If the Vestal Candidate is truly magnanimous, she won’t hold a grudge."

*Still… what I did today was off-putting. What was Christine really thinking?*

He hadn’t figured it out.

"You mean… you *did* make an improper advance?"

"Not exactly."

"Not exactly? It’s yes or no!"

Siman’s voice rose. This cousin was utterly exasperating.

The female spy incident. This Vestal invitation. Why so indifferent?

*If only someone else could…*

She paused. Remembered her aunt—Hale’s mother—gone too soon.

His frontier-guarding father rarely returned. Hale was raised by his sister.

Who later joined a codename-only secret unit in the Papal Dominion… and vanished too.

"Think what you will. Barring surprises, Christine won’t seek me again."

*Almost said she asked me to… Too explosive. If she shifts from dislike to resentment? Being hated by a female lead = death.*

"?"

Siman blinked. Evasive again—half-sentences, expecting her to guess?

"Explain clearly! Or I’ll stop intervening—spy matters, Vestal affairs. One grave mistake tarnishing House Faxius’s honor, and—"

"Fine."

"What?"

"I said okay."

Hale wanted clarity. Right now, he just wanted to slip out of Saint Louis, find a quieter city, settle early.

Not total slacking, though.

Slack completely? In three years: war erupts between Eastern and Western Continents. Demon Lords mobilize from their Demon Lord Realms. Mass casualties.

That date? The deadline triggering BEs in many female leads’ routes.

Slack too hard or grind trivial side quests? You’re doomed. Hence, debates rage over "true endings."

Hale didn’t care about true or false endings. To survive the chaos, he’d secretly overachieve.

Thankfully, his talent was exceptional. By then, plot-wise, he’d rank among a nation’s top-tier combatants—

Either a prized asset for the heroines… or the final boss of their grand dungeon.

"You… Hale. Before Aunt passed, she said…"

Siman didn’t know why she still cared. She’d warned him endlessly. Even his mother…

Yes. That breathtakingly beautiful woman, on her deathbed, gently stroking nine-year-old Siman’s head.

*Telling her to take good care of him.*

"Thank you for your concern. But I’m leaving Saint Louis."

Hale cut her off. He avoided speaking of his late mother.

The golden-haired knight stared, utterly bewildered.

He was going to…

Leave the imperial capital?

Her mind went blank.