/
Today was another holy day that people celebrated every four days.
Deatrice got up at dawn and set out for the temple before sunrise, as she had always done. She had never forgotten to visit the temple during times like these.
People said that she had a peculiar interest in religion, but in reality, it had just become her habit.
In all actuality, her mother, Amelia Fram Louisen, should be the one known as being truly faithful. She would wake up early in the morning to offer her daily prayers to the temple, this continued from when she was still an unwedded lady all the way until she was pregnant with Deatrice.
Whenever Deatrice thought of her mother, Amelia, the first thing that came to mind was her wearing a white dress and praying in front of the holy book and relics.
But

There were no other beautiful memories left with her. Almost all of them had been tainted by her mother’s ugly side.
“Save me, Deatrice!”
Amelia had an illness that she couldn’t cure even with her divine powers. Afterwards, she died from the exact same disease she had suffered from.
Deatrice had always viewed her mother as a sublime and noble figure. So, it came as a shock to see the woman down on her knees, clutching Deatrice’s hand tightly, and begging like a madman, saying things with bloodshot eyes.
“It is because I have been so close to God that you have been granted such powers! That means, your power is mine, and now I want to use my power on myself. What’s so wrong with that?!”
The late duchess shouted, demanding that her daughter heal her.
Of course, Deatrice thought that her words might be true to some extent. She had been able to use her powers, although weakly, ever since her childhood days.
Amelia claimed it was because of her faithful worship since her maiden days that the gods have granted her daughter some form of divinity in order to help her triumph over this disease she would have in the future.
The only problem was that

The gift was incomplete.
Deatrice could only access half of her divine power, so after healing Amelia, she would suffer the pain instead.
The priests who knew of this fact would praise Deatrice for her great spirit of wanting to sacrifice for her mother. But they could not have been any farther from the truth.
Deatrice had begun to hate her sick mother.
Whenever she was forced to heal Amelia, she felt exploited, and the unbearable suffering she felt afterwards had only served to intensify her loathing. But at the same time, she also despised herself for feeling that way, because she recognized that that woman was still her mother.
Amelia would eventually die and disappear, and the physical pain might’ve only been temporary, but the torment her mother had wrought upon her would forever stay in the recesses of her mind.
Contempt.
That was what she felt after Amelia’s death.
Feeling free from the shackles for a moment, she felt a little lost. She had only ever known to continuously heal her mother in that temple. As a result, this made Deatrice more attached to going to the temple even after her mother’s death.
There were fleeting moments where she would recall the faint memories of her mother that she wanted to keep—like the two of them joining their hands together as they walked towards the temple in the distance.
Shaking her head to cleanse her mind, Deatrice took the things she needed and left.
Upon arriving, familiar priests greeted her and led her to a prayer room. As she entered, a priestess, who’s always looked after due to her divine powers, greeted her.
“You have arrived.”
The appearance of priests with their heads bowed deeply was something she had always seen since childhood.
She heard that this woman was the daughter of some nobleman. However, after her divine power was discovered, she decided to become a priestess. After that, she lived a life away from the secular world.
“You’re already known for coming here every holy day, you might as well fully entrust yourself to the temple.”
Deatrice suddenly remembered the words she had heard at the ball. If she really had done as the priestess said, she wouldn’t have to play-pretend with Lucius anymore.
Two failed engagements. Then, she reunited with her first fiancée and had gotten herself engaged for the third time.
After checking her state, the priestess withdrew.
Deatrice sat in the prayer room for a long time, asking whoever was up there the reason as to why she was experiencing all of this.
But, like all other times, there was no answer.
After sitting for a long while, she suddenly heard a conversation between two ladies who passed her by without. They didn’t recognize who she was with the white cotton cloth covering her head.
“Haven’t you heard? Turns out, Eva Way is Count Mendez’s mistress!”
Eva Way was the one who called her ‘cursed’ during the last ball.
As much as Deatrice was surprised by the sudden news, the other lady listening in seemed to be surprised as well.
“Mistress? But Count Mendez was famous for being loyal to his wife!”
“That’s why it’s even more shocking. The countess had fainted, and I even saw a priest from here go to her place.”
“Oh my—! She must’ve been really shocked! She was the woman who believed in the Count more than anyone else!” then she whispered inquisitively, “But, how was it revealed?”
“I heard that it was revealed when a mysterious document arrived at the tea party held by the Countess Mendez. It contained a pocket of letters and hair. A lot of people wondered who gave it to the countess, but they speculated it was probably Eva Way herself who had sent it.”