Chapter 7: Unaware of Humor

Quietly, she gazed at the beautiful scene before her.

After a moment, her vacant thoughts suddenly drifted back to the unwilling expression on Mas Beardsley’s face when he left.

After pondering for a while, the confusion that had long been buried deep in her heart gradually surfaced. Finihiya glanced sideways at Dalinan, who was also looking at the courtyard’s greenery.

“B…”

“Hm?”

“Why… did he back out?”

Dalinan responded with an even more puzzled “Hm?”

“Back out? Miss Saintess, what do you mean?”

“About Lord Beardsley.” Finihiya tilted her head, her golden hair shimmering softly like silk as it swayed gently.

“From the bits and pieces I overheard, it seems he only opened the city gates after trading for my ownership.”

“Ah.” Dalinan nodded slightly. “I did use that as bait to lure him at first.”

“BB…”

“As for the reason, I’ve already given an answer before.”

“Miss Finihiya, you are the Saintess of humanity,” Dalinan’s well-shaped lips curled into a faintly playful smile. “If I had truly done that, surely all the human nations would not have remained silent.”

“In that case, things would have become even more troublesome and headache-inducing. Besides, it would have contradicted my original intentions.”

Dalinan’s voice faltered slightly here. “So, I refused the man’s request.”

“I see…”

Hearing Dalinan’s answer, Finihiya’s doubts were completely dispelled.

At the same time, a heavy sigh of relief escaped from the depths of her heart.

Though she had known for a long time that Dalinan had rejected Mas, not knowing the exact reason had caused her worry over these past two months—that Darlian the Demon Lord might suddenly decide to fulfill her promise to Minister Mas one day.

Finihiya could not imagine such a tragic future.

According to secret rumors among the clergy in the Sanctuary, Minister Mas was secretly keeping many female slaves and used terrifying methods to torture them for pleasure.

The Church had also investigated this matter but found no useful clues or evidence.

Moreover, Mas held a high position as the leader of the Reformist Faction within the Church, so the case ultimately faded away without resolution.

As Finihiya’s thoughts drifted aimlessly, Darlian the Demon Lord’s lazy and slightly teasing voice suddenly broke the silence.

“It really suits you.”

“Hm?” The subject-less statement made Finihiya frown in confusion. “What are you referring to?”

Dalinan slightly lifted her chin and pointed with her slender, verdant-like fingers to her neck.

“The collar.”

Those words from Dalinan caused a sudden sinking feeling in Finihiya’s heart. Yet her face still held that faint, indifferent expression.

“Is this a taunt from the Demon Lord?”

“Hehe.” A slight smile appeared at the corner of Dalinan’s lips. “I didn’t mean it that way—I was just speaking what I felt.”

“This collar on your neck gives off a strange vibe, even makes me think it should stay on you permanently.”

Noticing Finihiya’s silence, Dalinan lowered her voice a little.

“Are you angry?”

“Really, Miss Saintess has no sense of humor at all.”

“Ha, ha…” Finihiya responded with a hollow laugh, devoid of any emotion. “The Demon Lord’s words are truly amusing—even the depths of my soul are laughing.”

“You do know how to flatter.”

Lifting the cup to her lips, Finihiya drained the last of the milky white tea.

Casting a faint glance at the dazzling sun rising over the distant horizon, she slowly stood up and bowed to Dalinan.

“It’s almost time. Please forgive me for leaving first.”

“Is that so? So brief.”

Dalinan’s voice was as emotionless as usual.

Finihiya picked up the suitcase that had been resting at her feet, bowed politely once more to Dalinan, then turned and slowly walked back the way she had come.

Watching the small figure gradually fade into the distance, Dalinan withdrew her gaze and unconsciously looked down at the plate before her, still holding several desserts.

Her mind suddenly recalled the image of Finihiya earlier, stuffing food into her mouth like a little squirrel.

Perhaps finding it amusing, or maybe cute, a faint, inexplicable smile flickered across Dalinan’s profile.

“Ailus.”

“Yes, Master.”

Dalinan called softly, and a red-haired woman dressed in a maid’s uniform appeared beside her, where there had been no one moments ago.

A cool breeze swept through.

In the slightly tranquil courtyard, the rustling of the flowers and grass could be heard. Finihiya’s golden hair, carrying a faint sweetness, fluttered in the wind.

Following the courtyard’s path, Finihiya returned to the Conservatory.

At the Conservatory’s entrance, many members of the Demon Race were busy at work.

Demon soldiers carried heavy wooden crates, maids swayed while holding long, slender bread baskets, and knights of seemingly higher rank chatted leisurely in a corner.

Treading on the paved stone ground, Finihiya lowered her head and headed straight for the carriage waiting down the street.

Many of the busy demons noticed the girl passing by, their work momentarily slowing.

She was a porcelain doll with shining golden hair cascading down to her feet like a spread velvet scarf.

Simply unbelievably beautiful.

On the black-and-white toned, old Western-style street, aside from the busy backs of demons, Finihiya saw no human citizens.

Her brow furrowed slightly in puzzlement as she tilted her head to look around.

Only when she saw, in the distance, the demon soldiers lined up like black dots did she realize the area near the Governor’s Hall and Conservatory was under protection.

“Isn’t this the Saintess? I thought you had snuck away.”

As Finihiya was surveying the unfamiliar street and boarding the carriage, Atena’s voice suddenly sounded nearby.

Finihiya politely bowed lightly to Atena standing before her, then greeted her in a monotone voice.

“Good morning, Miss Atena.”

“Where did you just go, Saintess? I couldn’t find you even in your room.”

“Sorry, I was sitting in the Conservatory’s courtyard for a while.”

“Courtyard?” Atena sounded as if she’d heard something amusing, her tone calm and slightly teasing. “The Saintess has quite the mindset—to be looking at flowers in the courtyard in a situation like this.”

After saying this, Atena turned and walked away toward the Conservatory’s entrance.