“I don’t know.”
Rosetta immediately answered Rosalind’s question, but her expression was a bit puzzled.
“Is that so?”
She opened her fan again, her violet eyes—identical to the Holy Throne’s—staring straight at Rosetta.
However, Rosetta was not like those around her.
She met the gaze calmly, without a trace of emotional fluctuation.
“If the Captain says so, then I’m relieved.”
Rosalind smiled sweetly, her fan performing a beautiful spin before returning to her hand.
The previously tense atmosphere dissipated.
“Will you two go in first?”
Rosetta stepped aside and asked.
“Has that Lord arrived yet?”
Rosalind didn’t hurry inside. She raised an eyebrow and asked.
“Your purpose for coming today is quite obvious.”
“Otherwise, why would I attend tonight’s Banquet? It’s not like you don’t know—I haven’t gotten along with my sister for a long time.”
Rosalind spread her hands.
The maid beside her, unfamiliar with Rosalind, was bewildered.
She thought, Even as the Holy Throne’s sister, can a Bishop really be this unrestrained?
In fact, Rosetta, who understood the situation, knew Rosalind indeed had the capital to be reckless.
The Holy Throne’s transcendent talent was space—between time and space.
While Rosalind’s transcendent talent was time, standing side by side with ‘space’.
Although the two were sisters by blood, aside from their transcendent talents barely matching, their personalities and styles were worlds apart.
Unlike Sylvia’s cold majesty, Rosalind was cynical and unrestrained, with a notorious reputation. People of the Holy Light Church avoided mentioning this nominal Bishop, as her actions were too shameful.
Interestingly, twenty years ago, the two were almost on parallel paths—though now, few remembered.
Something happened in between, causing the two to drift further apart.
Sylvia climbed step by step from Bishop to Cardinal to Pope, while Rosalind seemed to have faced some setbacks, completely wasting her talent.
Now, people didn’t even know her true realm, for she had long become a dissipated socialite—attending Salons and Banquets, drinking and reveling day and night without distinction.
But Rosetta always maintained basic respect for her.
At first, this made Rosalind curious—did the rumored, noble Knight have hidden motives?
Or had she seen through her, in some way?
Later, she discovered Rosetta treated everyone this way—neither servile nor overbearing, sincere and polite…
“You don’t need to test me. The Holy Throne may have everything under control, but I know nothing of the inside story,”
Just like now, Rosalind felt Rosetta before her was both an iron wall and soft cotton, inevitably irritating.
“Fine, then Captain, we’ll meet again later.”
Unfolding her fan, Rosalind and Maria entered the hall side by side.
After nodding to Maria, Rosetta no longer paid them any mind, and a few seconds later, tossed the earlier events from her thoughts.
Rosalind and Maria walked side by side into the hall. Rosalind’s expression was somewhat absent-minded, gently tapping her fan, lost in thought.
“You’re quite skilled at hiding your strength.”
The two sat in a sparsely populated area. Marita suddenly sighed.
She was a renowned Saint Domain Relic of the continent, already at the Law Domain.
Compared to mediocrities, she saw through Rosalind’s true realm shortly after meeting her.
“Heh.”
Rosalind gave a soft, ambiguous laugh.
“Hiding strength? What a ridiculous notion.”
Facing this slaughter-god of a woman, Rosalind’s tone held almost no respect.
“It’s meaningless. Compared to the realm my sister has reached, whether I hide it or not makes no difference.”
After sitting down, Rosalind crossed her legs, displaying her beautiful, toned lines.
“Let’s not talk about this. Let’s discuss something more interesting.”
She smiled at Maria.
“Do you mean the Holy Child?”
Maria sat down, casually patting the sofa’s backrest.
“Of course. I’m very interested in him~”
Maria listened to Rosalind’s ambiguous tone, scrutinizing this charming, flirtatious woman before her.
After the Holy Child’s coronation today, she had heard some rumors from somewhere and approached Maria directly to attend the Banquet together.
As for why she sought her out, the reason was a bit embarrassing…
It seemed the Holy Throne had long forgotten she even had a sister, and the Holy Light Church had likewise forgotten Bishop Rosalind’s existence—no one sent her an invitation, so she had to latch onto Maria’s position.
She was so excited—could it be…
Maria looked at the woman’s mature face and figure, like a ripe fruit ready to burst with juice, longing for someone to draw out its excess heat.
Over the years, Maria had heard many rumors about Rosalind, mostly portraying her as a wanton, licentious woman.
After every night’s festivities, she would bring someone back, indulging till dawn.
Some even said she was unrestrained in every way, with methods too varied to describe…
In Maria’s view, rumors about Rosalind had become demonized.
At first, she half-believed them, but as versions grew more absurd, she dismissed them as nonsense.
Yet, where there’s smoke, there’s fire.
If Rosalind were like the Holy Throne, would there be so many rumors?
Even if her private life wasn’t as wild as said, it surely wasn’t pure either.
“Rosalind, let me remind you not to cross the Holy Throne’s bottom line. Beautiful boys are everywhere. Why risk your status for such dangerous excitement?”
She said this, yet Maria knew Roman was truly unique—priceless.
Rosalind’s once-carefree smile froze at these words.
Then she sighed as if giving up.
“Think what you want.”
No one knew how absurd things the ‘Stigma of Time’ could achieve.
In common understanding, perhaps only time slowing, time acceleration, or at most time stop and deletion.
But besides these, Rosalind could briefly glimpse fragments of the future—within nightly dreams.
Through this power, Rosalind became the third to learn Roman’s origins, even if only through broken fragments.
Yet she had to attend tonight’s Banquet.
Because she wanted to make up for past regrets…