It was already past seven in the morning when she woke up.
She had stirred awake several times before, but each time she quickly fell back asleep under Isabella’s gentle care.
The sound of chirping mixed with the rhythmic calls of small birds reached her ears.
The bedroom was quiet.
Isabella’s scent still lingered in the air, though it seemed she had left not long ago.
As for Cress, other than placing a strange protective barrier around her, she was nowhere to be seen.
Gabrielle lightly reached out and poked Cress’s barrier.
It burst like a fragile eggshell.
“Mmm…”
She checked her body.
There were no major issues.
After being taken by Isabella, the magic power inside her had stabilized.
She didn’t know what the future would bring, but at least for now, she was safe.
Gabrielle stretched lazily.
Her body was still as weak as before, so she began to carefully recall the memories from her dreams.
The memories she had recovered after her holy body was restored were far more extensive than she had imagined.
First were the repair pods.
Several Heavenly Envoys had died during the battle to purge humans.
Heavenly God Cress had sent them all to the repair pods.
They were iron coffins that resembled high-tech hibernation chambers, using special magic power to stabilize a Heavenly Envoy’s magic.
The dead could not truly be revived—they would never wake up.
Even their lifeless bodies would remain stable and preserved under the protection of the pods.
So it was true.
Then why had the Heavenly Envoys begun waking up one after another recently?
And in such a special way?
She couldn’t quite understand it.
What surprised Gabrielle even more was the truth about Isabella.
Apostles were originally puppets eroded and controlled by Isabella’s shadows.
Thinking about it now, the so-called Apostles had never truly existed.
In the real sense, no one had ever been completely dominated by the [Devour] Authority.
Isabella had mentioned before that many of the Apostles the Heavenly Envoys had fought were merely “smokescreens.”
Yet her terrifying shadow power was not at its full strength.
Or rather, her power still had enormous room to grow.
Even so, the current Isabella was already capable of eroding Heavenly Envoys—including Leah and Simona—with her shadows, and even allowing them to wield a portion of that shadow power.
From this perspective, had she already fully matured?
No. The Evil God wasn’t that strong yet.
She had said that she only needed to rest quietly for a dozen years or so for her Authority to recover, allowing her to become a true god.
Yet she had used the incomplete Authority ahead of time, causing everything to fall apart.
Gabrielle’s feelings were complicated.
It turned out the Evil God’s fury over the betrayal came from how much she had sacrificed.
Gabrielle clenched her fists tightly.
The Evil God who had willingly cast aside her Authority and chosen love.
She could have become the ruler of all things, just like the Heavenly God.
In her eyes, Heavenly Envoys and humans alike would have been reduced to nothing more than pitiful ants.
Yet she had foolishly chosen love instead.
Creak—
The door opened without her noticing.
Two maids entered the bedroom.
Isabella led the way, with Cress following behind.
After parking the meal cart, both maids walked to either side of Gabrielle and curtsied gracefully, lifting the hems of their skirts.
“Good morning, Lady Silver White Sword Emperor.”
Gabrielle nodded.
For a moment, she felt a little flustered.
She had never experienced this kind of young mistress treatment before.
Breakfast was quite lavish: onion soup, baked rice, sausages, several slices of bread, cream-topped pancakes, and a cup of fragrant black tea.
Isabella walked to the bedside and gently helped her sit up.
“Lady Silver White Sword Emperor, you don’t look very well today?”
“Mmm, I’m fine. Um… Isa~”
“Lady Gabrielle, would you like me to massage you?”
“No need.”
Before getting out of bed, Gabrielle reached out and stroked Isabella’s face.
This scene made Cress immediately take a step forward, while Isabella looked extremely surprised.
Gabrielle’s movements were slow and gentle, as if she were carefully cradling a precious work of art.
For a moment, she even seemed lost in a daze.
“Lady Silver White Sword Emperor, what are you…?”
Isa tilted her head in confusion, but she made no move to resist.
A faint, lovely blush colored her fair cheeks.
“Nothing. I just wanted to pinch your cheeks. They feel nice.”
“Mm. Then if Lady Gabrielle wants to touch me, please keep doing so as long as you like.”
Gabrielle showed no intention of letting go, and Isabella naturally offered no resistance.
Cress had originally wanted to stop them.
This wasn’t right.
She couldn’t allow Gabrielle to get close to this suspected Apostle of the Evil God.
But she didn’t want Gabrielle to dislike her for interfering.
The onion soup on the table was still steaming.
Cress’s mind began running nonstop calculations.
She stared blankly in Gabrielle’s direction, as if her system had frozen.
In just a day or two, it seemed she still couldn’t earn Gabrielle’s complete trust.
Nineteen seconds later, Gabrielle finally released Isabella’s face.
She sat down at the dining table and began to enjoy her breakfast.
She also noticed that Cress had been acting somewhat distant since earlier, standing there like a neglected little girl.
Cress stood carefully behind her, about three body lengths away, head slightly lowered.
She looked as though she were engaged in complex calculations or reflecting on her own mistakes.
“Delicious.”
A few minutes later, Gabrielle’s voice made Cress lift her head again.
She subconsciously looked over.
In front of Gabrielle, several spoonfuls of the onion soup had been eaten.
A large bite had been taken from the bread, and the soup level had noticeably dropped.
There was even a small trace of food at the corner of her mouth.
Isabella gently leaned forward and wiped the corner of her mouth with a napkin.
Gabrielle looked at her and smiled softly.
“This isn’t something you made, is it, Isa? It doesn’t taste like your cooking.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Mmm.” Gabrielle lightly played with the stray strands of hair by her ear. “Then it must be Olivia’s. Either way, it’s really good.”
Cress took in the entire scene.
Her pupils suddenly dilated, becoming slightly unfocused, before sharpening again in an extremely short time as they locked onto Gabrielle.
The onion soup she had made had clearly been a failure, yet Gabrielle said it was delicious.
She even felt that her cooking skills were comparable to Olivia’s.
No—she could surpass Olivia and become the person Gabrielle relied on most.
The expression on Gabrielle’s face was almost identical to the one she wore when eating dishes made personally by Isabella: that gentle, beautiful smile.
A smile Cress could not understand.
In that instant, Cress wanted to burn this scene into the depths of her heart forever.
She would never forget this effort, nor the smile on Gabrielle’s face.