[BL] Accidentally Becoming the Healer of the Deranged Archduke novel Chapter 207

Chapter 207: The Devil’s Heart

The wind howled like a warning through the snow-blasted cliffs of the North.

No birds sang here. No animals moved. Even the trees, skeletal and bare, seemed to curl inward as though hiding from something unseen. Far beyond the warmth of Xion’s cheerful village, the world in this corner was utterly silent.

Inside a stone fortress carved into the cliffside, fires crackled in the hearths, including the old church shrouded beneath the grey sky.

A hush fell over the gathered acolytes, kneeling in reverent stillness in the small hall. Even when their breaths misted the cold air, they did not move an inch.

Incense smoke curled lazily upward, tracing patterns into the vaulted ceiling of pale marble. And there, at the very center of the sanctum, stood a girl.

Her face was hidden behind a veil of pure white silk, embroidered with gold threads that shimmered when she moved.

Her golden hair, falling in soft waves past her waist, radiated a glow. It was as if the sun itself had finally decided to shine on the land of ice, warming the hearts of the devotees who gazed upon her.

They were so glad that the saintess had bestowed such a favor upon them. She had journeyed far, just to bless them.

Her frame was delicate as if one strong gust of wind might harm her. Yet no one mistook her for anything less than divine.

Her voice, soft as a breath and bright as a bell, stirred something deep within even the coldest hearts, like an oriole’s song woven from threads of purity and pain.

She stood with hands clasped before the great altar of Myrthia, the goddess of grace and judgment, surrounded by fading flowers and frozen prayer scrolls.

"May the goddess bestow her blessing on this land and purify the evil lurking in the depths of darkness."

A murmur of voices followed her words like an echo, and then silence fell.

Just as the prayer ended, no one lingered a moment longer as they hurried out of the church gates.

Although it had only been a week since the saintess had arrived, the devotees were familiar with her routine by now. After the prayer, the saintess would stay with the goddess.

Just as the church hall fell silent, three cloaked figures knelt before her.

"You’re late," she said gently as if she were welcoming the precious guests.

However, one of the kneeling figures flinched when he heard that voice.

"Forgive us, Your Highness. The river route was watched."

Lewis kept his gaze down while answering respectfully. Sweat trickled down his neck along the lines carved into his skin like a brand. A brand of a slave.

"So you took the mountain path?" she asked while carefully opening the prayer scrolls.

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Did you lose anyone?" she asked again while reading a particularly clean scroll.

"I wish for my little sister to live and not be sick."

It was written by a young clerk of the church. A smile bloomed on her pink lips. It was always adorable to read these prayers. They were so genuine, so filled with love, and sometimes with utter hate.

With a smile, she placed the scroll over the candle and soon the paper danced on the flame until it turned into ashes.

The kneeling man forced his hand not to shiver. One wrong move and he might replace that paper.

Hence, her people called her Saintess with reverence. The acolytes bowed low, nobles gifted fortunes to her church, and her name was sung in every corner of the Eldoria Lunareth.