Roland didn’t go straight back to the Manor. Instead, she went to the Church in the Village and found Isaiah sitting alone on a bench.
His eyes were closed, a book resting on his knees, as he prayed quietly and devoutly to the statue of the Goddess before him.
Roland sat beside him without making a sound, choosing to wait patiently for him to finish his prayers.
In the solemn and dignified Church, the afternoon sunlight poured through the skylight, illuminating the red carpet in front of the Goddess statue. Rows of long wooden benches sat empty; only Roland and Isaiah were present. The atmosphere was so quiet that Roland could almost hear the faint beating of her own heart.
Such a unique scene tugged at a certain memory—her father once bringing her to the Church to receive the Sunlight Baptism, and the moment at his funeral when she wept uncontrollably.
So real, yet so unfamiliar, as if she had lived it herself and yet watched from afar.
“Roderick once said that the happiest thing in his life was having a daughter. He always thought boys were too rowdy; he’d rather raise a refined young lady.”
When Isaiah finished praying, he opened his eyes and spoke slowly, his words pulling Roland from her memories.
“Miss Roland, did you come to see me because you’ve run into some trouble?”
“No.” Roland shook her head. “I just have some questions I’d like answered.”
“Please, ask.”
“What you said earlier—about being able to tell when Julian is lying—was that true?”
“The Goddess is all-knowing, but I am not the Goddess. I’m merely one among the countless who bask in Her light, without the power to discern truth from lies. The only reason I said so was because I could see through his heart.”
“I remember you can use the so-called power of the Goddess. Are you a Blessed One?”
“I am, but only a most ordinary Blessed One. Compared to a bishop who possesses an Angel Form, I am insignificant.”
“How did my father die?”
“……”
Isaiah fell silent, though not for long, before continuing, “You’ve changed. But losing your only family can indeed make a child grow up fast.”
“Don’t dodge the question. I have to know the answer.” Roland’s tone was determined.
“You will know the answer to that question, but not now. Only when you have enough strength to protect yourself can I tell you. That is what Roderick wished for me to do.”
“Fine. Last question—do you know any Magic?”
“Not many, and all of them are Light Magic.”
Although she didn’t get all the answers, Roland was content.
Since Isaiah could use Magic and was a member of the Church of Light, she could bring Miya here for some free help—and maybe even see if he could heal Miya’s injured throat.
Furthermore, based on the System’s evaluation, having Miya become her eyes and ears in the Church seemed like a good idea, and might help build more connections.
“To tell you the truth, I just brought a child back from the Convent in town not long ago. Her throat was injured and she can’t speak. Do you have confidence you can heal her?”
“I can’t guarantee it, but I will do my best.”
“Then thank you for your willingness to help. I have things to do, so I won’t stay.”
Roland left the Church and took the carriage back to the Manor.
But as soon as she entered the Castle, she saw Miya clinging to the stair railing, with the Head Maid trying to pull her away.
Miya looked so small, yet not even the Head Maid could budge her—though perhaps she was just afraid of hurting Miya and didn’t dare use force.
Roland quickly spoke up, “Miya, Cheryl, what are you two doing?”
At the sound of her voice, both turned their heads at once.
The Head Maid, Cheryl, let go first and bowed to her. “Miss Roland, Miya refuses to bathe, and I’m trying to find a way to resolve this problem.”
Miya let go of the railing, ran to hide behind Roland, and gripped the flower on her skirt tightly.
Just from a few words, Roland guessed the situation.
Waking up in a strange place, with no one she knew around—anyone would be frightened. Miya was timid to begin with, let alone after leaving with strangers.
The only person she could feel safe with was Roland, who had taught her to read. She didn’t actually refuse to bathe—she just needed someone familiar to accompany her.
Cheryl, though diligent, was too rigid and by-the-book. If she’d used a gentler, more gradual approach, Miya surely wouldn’t have resisted so much.
Roland reminded her, “Miya just arrived here and is very shy. Try to be as gentle as possible until she gets used to the place.”
“Understood. What should I do now?”
Looking down at the trembling Miya, Roland asked gently, “Miya, Cheryl is a good person. I asked her to help you bathe. You don’t need to be afraid. Now that I’m back, can you go with her to change clothes?”
Miya shook her head vigorously. In her mind, the Head Maid already wore the label of a tigress—how could she believe she wouldn’t get eaten whole?
Honestly, raising children is such a hassle.
Roland sighed and told Cheryl, “Go get Nasha. Have her take Miya to bathe.”
“Yes, Miss.”
Before long, Nasha arrived.
“Miss, you called for me?”
“Yes. Please take Miya for a bath and help her change. Be gentle—she’s even more skittish than a baby rabbit.”
With someone else, and after Roland’s coaxing and comforting, Miya finally agreed to bathe.
Afterwards, the once-dirty little girl looked completely new, now dressed in a spotless princess dress. The only flaw was that she was still barefoot.
“Why aren’t you wearing shoes?” Roland asked in confusion.
Nasha replied, “Um… Miss Miya didn’t want to.”
Miya nodded.
“All right, then.”
A problem child having a few quirks is acceptable, but she’d have to be careful with the floors to avoid stepping on any sharp stones.
After running around all day and doing so much, Roland felt exhausted. With dusk approaching, she instructed the Head Maid to gather the staff and prepare dinner, and took advantage of the free time to teach Miya a few more words.
But just as she was about to leave, Nasha asked, “Miss, why did you bring her back?”
Roland thought for a moment, then answered, “I suppose… because I’m just very kind.”
As the orange-red sun dipped below the horizon, Roland looked up from her lesson to see the sky outside the window awash in blood-red light, the sun dragging the last threads of its glow toward the end of the earth, like a drowning person refusing to let go of a withered branch.
Night was about to fall.
She lowered her head again to check Miya’s work.
Where the page had once been blank, now there were dense black letters crisscrossing the paper like tiny, tangled snakes. Among them, four large characters stood isolated in the center—“I want to practice writing.”
Just being able to write “I want” was enough for most daily communication. With only the last part left, her teaching goals were almost met.
Just then, the butler came to inform her that the Head Maid had finished preparing dinner.
“That’s all for today. Let’s go downstairs and eat.”