Rosetta’s affectionate words received no response from Roman, but she didn’t feel awkward at all.
Instead, she watched Roman seriously, wondering how she could share his burdens.
A sigh.
Roman finally gave up resisting, closed his eyes, and retreated under the covers, silently aggrieved.
He’d already been dragged into this, so what else could he say now?
He lay down like a salted fish, no longer paying attention to Rosetta.
Rosetta waited a long time before slowly getting up, her calm expression tinged with slight embarrassment.
Roman’s attitude made her feel less like a Guardian Knight of the Holy Child and more like a rough woman abducting a common man.
After hesitating for a moment, Rosetta greeted him.
“Are you feeling unwell?”
“…..”
“Shall I pour you a cup of hot water?”
It took Rosetta several minutes to force out such a dry sentence.
If there were Iron Straight Men in a previous life, then now Rosetta was undoubtedly an Iron Straight Woman.
However, Roman, looking listless, actually seemed susceptible to her approach, finding Rosetta’s awkward words unexpectedly funny.
After all, in his impression just now, Rosetta should have been a meticulous Knight, yet she was saying such amusing things.
From under the covers, Roman couldn’t help but let out a light ‘pfft’ of laughter.
Rosetta’s delicate face lowered even more.
It was hard to imagine a Domain Transcendent being ridiculed by a Mid-rank Transcendent and not daring to reply.
Yet in Rosetta’s understanding, this was only natural.
He was merely a follower and protector of Goddess Fara, while Roman was, in name, her child.
Unlike some who paid lip service to the Goddess Fara—let alone to this so-called Holy Child—Rosetta’s respect for Roman came entirely from the heart.
Hmm…
Of course, perhaps it was also because she had secretly seen all of Roman before; Rosetta had some unspoken thoughts she didn’t dare confess.
As Rosetta spaced out…
Suddenly, the blanket in front of her lifted, and Roman poked his head out, a slight smile on his lips as he gazed at Rosetta.
Roman still didn’t realize just how lethal his looks and every expression could be to women.
Rosetta looked at Roman—watching his raised brow, faint smile, and the curve of his lips.
His once pure and flawless face now held a trace of charming allure as he smiled.
The white flower by his right eye also seemed to bloom along with his smile, beautiful beyond the reach of her limited vocabulary.
Despite her composure, even Rosetta couldn’t help but daze for a moment under Roman’s smile, immediately lowering her head once she realized.
“Did I get hit by something last night?”
Roman asked softly.
Rosetta still kept her head down.
“Yes, and it was a special concoction of the Witch Coven.”
“Then last night, I…”
Roman hugged his cheeks, uneasily murmuring.
“I arrived in time. That witch didn’t have the chance to do anything to you, Your Highness.”
Rosetta replied immediately.
“I see.”
Roman finally relaxed upon hearing Rosetta’s confirmation.
What he didn’t know was that Zora simply hadn’t managed to go further with him.
As for anything besides that, Zora had licked the cream off the cake—Roman—completely and even kissed his lips before Rosetta drove her off.
And after Rosetta chased Zora away, Roman, under the influence of the drug, had also toppled (startled) Rosetta onto the ground, sharing some close moments with her.
Some things are better left unknown, Rosetta thought.
At that moment, another person suddenly appeared in the room.
Brilliant golden hair was coiled into a bun at the back of her head, her beautiful features radiating both holiness and authority, and violet eyes stared directly at Roman from the moment she appeared.
“Holy Throne.”
Rosetta stood and greeted respectfully.
“You’ve worked hard, Commander. Go rest.”
Sylvia nodded gently to Rosetta.
Rosetta placed a hand over her chest in salute, finally breathing a sigh of relief.
She glanced at Roman one last time before turning to leave the Holy Throne’s chamber.
Roman’s smile gradually faded.
The entire room became silent.
The two locked eyes—Sylvia’s gaze was full of love and appreciation, while Roman’s held resistance and displeasure.
“Although I know my words are meaningless.”
Roman spoke first.
“I still want to ask—must I really become the Holy Child?”
Sylvia wasn’t angered by Roman’s lack of respect.
She sat down beside him on the bed.
“Is your resistance to becoming the Holy Child because you’re afraid you’ll lose your life in the Lily Territory?”
Sylvia asked.
Roman gave no clear answer, but his expression spoke for him.
“What a kind-hearted child.”
Sylvia sighed from the heart.
On one side was the life of a lover in the Count’s territory, forever shackled by the status of a slave.
On the other, to become the supreme Holy Child of the Holy See.
Unless one was a fool, any normal person would choose the latter.
But did Roman look like a fool? Or was he simply narrow-minded?
Sylvia understood.
Roman couldn’t let go of the kindness and affection shown to him by the Lily Countess, nor the respect and adoration of the people there, nor the peace and stability he had never known before.
He was a child willing to give up great benefit for a small virtue.
Such a child seemed difficult to handle.
But Sylvia knew that as long as she made some concessions herself, it wouldn’t be hard to win him over.
She patted Roman’s head.
Roman instinctively wanted to resist her touch, but recalling her connection to his mother, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse.
Running her hand through Roman’s clean, silver-white hair, Sylvia felt a fleeting sense of dizziness.
Her eyes even grew moist, tears nearly falling.
He was Lainie’s child—perhaps the last relic she’d left to the world and to Sylvia herself.
So why should she be so stubborn?
Whatever this child wanted, she would give.
“Do you hate it here because I would destroy your old life?”
Sylvia asked softly.
Roman didn’t know how to reply.
“Good child, you don’t have to worry.”
Sylvia promised.
“Becoming the Holy Child doesn’t mean you have to bear any burdens.
On the contrary, it will be your greatest asset and advantage in the future.”
“At the same time, I won’t restrict any of your freedom.
If you wish, even after the Coronation today, I will let you return.”
Roman couldn’t help but turn his head, looking at Sylvia in disbelief.
“Everything you’re saying…is it true?”
“Of course~”
Sylvia spoke with such confidence because she understood a certain truth.
The hardest cage to escape from in this world isn’t the prison called the Holy City, but the Warm House woven of love and gentleness.
A home.
If the Lily Territory could use love to make Roman yearn for it, then she too could use love to make him accept the Holy City.