“What do you mean by that, daughter?”
“Are you saying you don’t recognize me as your mother anymore?”
“All those harsh words I said before were just out of anger. I didn’t mean them. Can’t you come home?”
But the Countess couldn’t speak those feeble pleas out loud. She felt suffocated—unable to utter a single word.
Because she had, in fact, said it herself: she severed ties with Samimi and cast her out of the family.
She could feel the resentment boiling in Samimi. Everything that was once hers had been taken away. She had every right to be angry.
And so, the Countess found herself unable to come up with a single excuse to ask for forgiveness.
As a mother, she had failed to support her daughter through her downfall. Instead, she chose to cut ties—discarding her like a broken tool.
Their relationship had truly come to an end. They were strangers now.
But… that had never been her true intention.
When something so serious happened, she, as the head of the house, had to take a firm stance. She couldn’t show favoritism just because Samimi was her daughter. She had to come down hard on her.
Otherwise, how could she command respect from those under her? Running a noble house of hundreds was no easy task, especially as a woman.
“The elevation ceremony is about to begin!”
As the tense standoff between mother and daughter continued, the ceremony for Knight King Shaya’s elevation in rank had begun.
The host of the palace, the dashing and charismatic Third Prince, made his grand appearance.
Beside him stood the divinely radiant Sashafa, a stunning pair of young nobles—man and woman, elegance incarnate.
The gathered guests erupted into cheers and applause loud enough to shake the heavens.
“Daughter, earlier there were too many people, and I couldn’t speak freely. But now, let me apologize. Please come home,” the Countess pleaded quietly.
The noise outside felt distant to her. She was enveloped in sorrow. Her daughter no longer acknowledged her.
“I can’t go back, Countess,” Samimi replied without hesitation. “Some words, once spoken, can never be taken back. You have your family to protect—and I have mine. You made your choice. You didn’t do anything wrong… it’s just that we no longer walk the same path.”
On the stage, Knight King Shaya knelt on one knee before the prince, receiving his title of nobility.
“To you, I was nothing more than a stepping stone. A tool. And when that tool broke, your first instinct was to replace it—not fix it.” Samimi’s voice was ice cold. “Now that you have a better tool, surely you don’t need this old, broken one anymore?”
At the same time, the prince drew his ceremonial Holy Sword of the Nation, resting it on Shaya’s shoulder and reciting the oath.
“Fame. Title. Reputation. Every one of those things mattered more to you than I did. Sashafa says I’m fake, but I’ll throw those words back at all of you. There are thousands of nobles just like me—cast aside and disgraced. I don’t hate you. But don’t take me for a fool. I understand how this noble game works. The exiled are worse than dogs.”
Samimi’s words were calm, like she was stating a mundane fact.
The elevation ceremony proceeded solemnly and slowly. Not a single noble below dared breathe too loudly—they were utterly silent.
The atmosphere matched the Countess’s heart: frozen, like falling into an icy abyss.
“Goodbye, Countess. Take care of yourself. But don’t come looking for me again. I can’t handle it. Niubao, let’s go.”
Samimi watched the moment Shaya was officially knighted, then turned to leave with not a trace of nostalgia.
Niubao quickly packed up several plates of food and followed after her.
“Sister Nun, was that your mom?” Niubao asked as they walked.
“She was. She isn’t anymore,” Samimi answered.
“Why? Niubao wants to meet her own mom someday too…”
“Just think of me as your mom. I’ll never abandon you,” Samimi said gently, stroking Niubao’s head.
Watching her daughter’s retreating back, hearing her words, the Countess felt her strength leave her. She collapsed to the ground.
Her heart spasmed in pain.
She finally realized just how gravely she had erred.
She had never truly understood her daughter—not until now.
Samimi had always treated everyone in the family with cold arrogance. She had a fearsome reputation as a villainous noble heiress.
But the only person she never raised her voice to was her mother.
Wasn’t that a form of love reserved only for her?
Samimi had always treasured family above all.
In her eyes, the only person worthy of being called family was her mother. Everyone else was trash.
The Countess’s mind replayed memories of her daughter clinging to her, smiling, laughing…
That adorable face had now been replaced with a veiled nun, repenting in darkness, her face hidden from the world.
Now her daughter could no longer forgive her mother’s coldness and betrayal. She would rather die alone in the wilds than return to the Count’s estate.
“Uwaaaaah… uuuhhh… waaahhhh…”
When the Countess came to her senses, she was already on her knees, clutching her head, weeping uncontrollably.
She knew then that it was too late to take anything back.
“Countess, are you alright?”
Sashafa had returned—only to freeze in shock at the sight.
She had never seen the powerful Countess cry like that—displaying such weakness.
Sashafa helped her to a seat.
The Countess was sobbing so hard she could barely breathe. She was nearly delirious.
Sashafa hurried off to fetch several maids, ordering them to escort the Countess to a guest room for rest.
“That damned Samimi!”
Watching the Countess be taken away, Sashafa clenched her fists and gritted her teeth.
“What did you do to even your own mother?! You’re a piece of filth—I won’t forgive you!”
She turned and stormed off to chase down Samimi.
Meanwhile, Samimi and Niubao were trying to leave the palace early—but had gotten lost.
The prince’s home was simply too big, full of winding corridors and hidden courtyards like a labyrinth.
Wandering aimlessly, they stumbled upon a secluded courtyard.
And there, once again, they encountered that radiant white figure.
Clearly, she had come here intentionally—this wasn’t coincidence.
“Even more relentless than debt collectors,” Samimi muttered.
“Samimi! What did you do to the Countess?!” Sashafa barked, furious.
“All I did was tell her I wasn’t coming home,” Samimi replied.
“What?” Sashafa scoffed. “You think I’ll believe that?”
“Believe it or not, I don’t care. Go ask the Countess yourself,” Samimi chuckled. “You don’t even know what we talked about, yet you storm over here to accuse me? You really are priesthood material—spreading lies with no evidence, handing down punishment based on nothing but imagination.”
“You insulted the Countess, and now you defile the Church! You deserve to die! Draw your weapon!”
Sashafa raised her voice furiously, pointing a glowing finger at Samimi. Her body radiated a golden, sacred light—pure and fierce.
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