WCSM 12

The rock salt mine in Hwidrabel was, in itself, a sacred site. Religiously, it held considerable significance.

It was said that Baldur had pressed his finger into the ground, leaving a hollow, and filled it with seawater.

In fact, the rock salt produced in Hwidrabel contained a faint trace of divine power.

“Anyone who serves Baldur is willing to purchase Hwidrabel rock salt at a high price. Simply possessing it can ward off evil spirits, and it is essential for prayer rituals.”

And that wasn’t all.

Every temple of Baldur was required to have rock salt from Hwidrabel. It was indispensable for sacred baptisms.

For that reason, the Order of Baldur had long tried to obtain ownership of the mine, but failed every time.

Yet with this one marriage, Felix gained rights nearly equivalent to ownership.

The ownership still belonged to the imperial family, but the Teresia house was free to mine as much rock salt as they wished.

Among the noble families serving Baldur, there had always been subtle power struggles. After obtaining such rights,

House Teresia rose to an incomparable status within the Order.

However, if they were to divorce, they might have to return the mining rights.

“If divorce isn’t possible, can’t we just send her to a hospital?”

Blanche, who had been listening intently, suddenly cut in. Felix firmly shook his head.

“The Isis Order won’t stay quiet. There’s no need to give them a reason to interfere.”

“Tch.”

“What happens within the family must be covered up within the family.”

After scolding his younger sister, Felix pressed his fingers between his brows.

He truly couldn’t understand why his once-quiet wife had suddenly started acting so crazily.

It was just a painting.

‘If Iona were truly a painter, I might understand.’

Wasn’t it simply something she did to relieve boredom?

Felix suddenly recalled Iona demanding that her painting be returned.

Her blue eyes had been blazing with life.

Perhaps that was why he kept thinking about it—the change in a woman who had been like a withered potted plant ever since their marriage.

“Could it be that Iona really…”

He muttered softly, and Blanche tilted her head.

“You mean the painting? Brother, that’s my painting. I already presented it under my name. I can’t possibly give it back! If I did, I’d become the laughingstock of the entire world!”

“It’s not your painting, Blanche.”

“But sister-in-law has no use for the title of painter anyway. I need it. I have to be a rising artist to even get in touch with the Grand Duke of Kaelas.”

At his sister’s immature words, Felix let out a low sigh.

‘It might be better to handle this quietly without anyone knowing.’

It wouldn’t be difficult to take the painting down from the gallery.

He could simply send a servant with a message.

Then, when no one was paying attention, he could return it to Iona.

That seemed like the only way to satisfy both sides.

The problem was that Iona likely wouldn’t accept that.

“The Grand Duke of Kaelas will return once the banquet ends. Until then, let it be your painting. After that, return it.”

“Brother!”

“That’s enough. I won’t allow any more.”

“…!”

Blanche’s eyes widened, and soon she burst into tears, throwing herself into their mother’s arms.

It didn’t feel good, but it couldn’t be helped.

“Then I will go inform Iona of the compromise.”

He deliberately spoke stiffly and rose from his seat.

“Oh my! What is going on? How could our angelic Blanche be crying so sorrowfully?”

A fresh, clear voice—like dew rolling off a lotus leaf—rang from the entrance.

“Ta-da! Surprised? I came myself this time.”

“Saintess, what brings you here without notice?”

“Oh my. Do we need to contact each other just to meet? How disappointing.”

Her brown hair fluttered lightly.

Puffing her cheeks cutely, the Saintess walked in and linked arms with him.

Frankly, it was not behavior befitting a Saintess, but before he could point that out, she placed a finger against her lips.

“You’re about to nag me again, aren’t you? It’s fine—we’re inside the house, Fel.”

“…Understood.”

When her gentle eyes, like spring buds, turned toward him, Felix quickly gave up on discussing propriety.

The Saintess, Ruby, was from another world.

She knew little about this country.

As the Saintess, she had received the Emperor’s consideration that she need not adapt to the Empire like its people, but could live according to the ways of her distant world. So Felix had little to say.

“I came because I missed you. A guardian knight is meant to always stay by the Saintess’s side. Am I wrong?”

“You are not wrong. How could the Saintess ever be wrong?”

“I like how you say things like that, Fel.”

Smiling with her eyes, Ruby then expressed concern for Lady Griselda and comforted her.

It was the image of a virtuous wife Felix had always wished for.

‘To harbor such thoughts while looking at the Saintess… How impudent.’

Rebuking himself, Felix postponed whatever he had intended to say to Iona.

He hadn’t forgotten, so it didn’t matter.

They lived in the same house, after all.

Why the Saintess had come in person instead of summoning him—that was more important.

“I’m in serious trouble right now.”

“Has something happened?”

“Well… I just can’t choose a dress for the year-end imperial banquet!”

The Saintess sighed deeply, looking pitiful.

In truth, her appearance was ordinary.

Brown hair and green eyes were a common combination.

Yet why did she seem so delicate and lovable?

‘Perhaps because she always smiles.’

He had never thought deeply about it, but perhaps that was why.

Just seeing her face made his fatigue melt away.

“Come help me choose. It has to be you, Fel. We’ll be entering together, so our dress code needs to match.”

“Understood.”

Without realizing it, a faint smile appeared on Felix’s lips. Seeing that, Blanche exchanged a meaningful look with their mother.

And so, completely setting aside the matter of Iona, Felix escorted the Saintess toward the entrance.

He swore he had never expected to run into Iona there.

At the same time, Iona had come out alone to go out.

Lost in deep thought, she hadn’t noticed the two of them at first.

If only the Saintess hadn’t been laughing so brightly, she might have been able to pretend she hadn’t seen them and pass by.

“Oh my, Madam! It seems you’re going out!”

Where did she get the nerve to speak to her so directly?

At this point, it was almost enviable.

“Yes.”

Replying coldly, Iona moved to board the carriage the coachman had brought.

But at that moment, Felix approached and opened the door for her.

He had never once done such a thing throughout their marriage.

“What exactly are you doing?”

“Where are you going?”

Their questions collided.

Instantly irritated, Iona crossed her arms and tilted her head.

“And where are you going?”

“…The Saintess urgently summoned me, so I plan to visit the imperial palace.”

Plan, my foot.

You’re just going to listen to her whining.

Iona shook her head and stepped into the carriage, completely ignoring the hand extended toward her.

“When you return, I have something to say.”

“Oh? If you have something to say, should I stay up and wait for you too?”

“Why are you so hostile at every moment?”

“If you don’t know, then you’re a fool, Felix Teresia.”

You come out arm in arm with another woman in front of your wife and say you’re going to the palace with her.

What, am I supposed to smile the whole time?

Dumbfounded, Iona tried to shut the carriage door.

But her wretched husband was holding it tightly.

“Try not to break your leg on your way back.”

“Iona!”

As she spat out the curse without hesitation, Felix shouted.

It was then—