After Being Reborn, My Wife Sapped Away the Game's Female Lead - Chapter 6

Cynthia attended the welcoming ceremony for the Saintess entering the royal city with a heavy heart, her expression so solemn as if this Saintess had come not to help them defeat the demons, but rather to help the demons defeat them.

Meanwhile, her fiancé stood shoulder to shoulder with her, full of vigor, and expressed profound dissatisfaction with Cynthia’s expression. “Cynthia, I expect you to display an appropriate demeanor matching your status to face the arrival of the Saintess.”

One had to admit that Mita, acting as a prince, was truly handsome. Nearly every aspect of his appearance seemed measured against the kingdom’s standard of handsomeness. Of course, it was also entirely possible that the kingdom’s aesthetic standard was simply derived from the royal family’s looks. Right now, dressed in a crisp white formal suit, he needed merely to stand there to draw the gazes of countless individuals.

“What demeanor?” Cynthia lifted her eyelids upon hearing this. “Do you require me to bring all the nobles and ministers and kneel on the ground to welcome the Saintess?”

Mita never expected Cynthia to respond in such a manner. Choking for a moment, he then said, “Cynthia, your speech remains as scathing as ever.”

“All thanks to your betrothal,” Cynthia faked a smile. “I sincerely wish you could make my speech pleasant to hear much sooner.”

In the past, no matter how much mischief Mita caused, he was always coaxed and pampered by his fiancée. Now, caught completely off guard by such a sharp retort, he could practically not even find his own tongue.

Cynthia could not care less about Mita’s mood. To her, it would be best if this prince simply could not handle it anymore and directly broke off the engagement. Her mind was left revolving around only two matters: one was how to gradually undermine the sacred status of the Saintess, and the other was how to interrogate Carlo shortly.

The time of my return is still far too brief, allowing me only enough time to visit Carlo. If you granted me two more days, perhaps I could persuade Katelya to artificially manufacture a miracle.

Carlo is truly a scumbag! Lilica is still so young! She just turned eighteen this year! No, wait, I need to focus on serious matters.

What should I do right after the miracle of the Saintess appears? Uttering sarcastic remarks will likely only help the Saintess capture more hearts, yet offering praises just like everyone else feels contradictory to my true heart. Why not simply do as I told Mita just now, and lead everyone to kneel down, offering Betty a level of reverent treatment higher than that of the king?

That is indeed a method. After all, the king is no longer young and has begun to guard against influential ministers and overly prominent nobles, which might very well apply to the Saintess as well. Cynthia mentally supplemented her own thoughts: if the king conforms to public opinion and recognizes the lofty status of the Saintess, it might even bring forward the day she and that fellow Mita are thrown together.

Previously, I wasted too much time and energy on Mita, rarely leaving the royal capital, to the extent that I failed to notice how Lilica had grown to such a state of frailty and was even bullied by Carlo.

Lost deep in her thoughts, she completely failed to notice that Mita had been wearing a sour expression beside her for quite a while, waiting purely for her to coax him.

Just as Cynthia mentally finalized the three possible plans she might use to respond, the carriage carrying the Saintess Betty finally rolled slowly into everyone’s sight.

If not for the demands of etiquette, lacking even a decorative noble wand far more ornamental than practical, Cynthia would likely have been unable to restrain herself from launching a fireball straight over.

Namely, because she could not cast any particularly powerful magic in her bare-handed state, otherwise the welcoming ceremony would probably turn into a welcoming casualty.

Although her heart hammered wildly and her fingers trembled slightly from the surge of various emotions, she still exhausted every ounce of willpower to control herself, matching the occasion by putting on an appearance of anticipation and yearning.

The gorgeously decorated royal carriage stopped right in front of Mita, and a servant immediately rushed forward eagerly to open the carriage door.

Here she comes. The moment she steps out of the carriage, a miracle will occur.

Cynthia gathered her utmost focus, waiting only to drop to her knees the instant a miracle appeared.

To her disappointment, however, this time after Betty stepped down from the carriage, no miracle of blinding holy light materialized.

Mita had already stepped forward to greet her. Suppressing her emotions, Cynthia followed along and mentally overturned all her previous plans. Without a miracle, there was no reason to kneel, and all prior considerations no longer held any significance.

“Your Holiness the Saintess, Mita Hileanastyle Demiklastia Gogless greets you.” Mita pressed a hand to his chest and bowed to Betty. “Thank you for your assistance to the kingdom, and welcome to the royal capital of Gauss.”

Cynthia also lifted her skirt and curtsied. “Your Holiness the Saintess, Cynthia Selatinos Cotton greets you.”

Behind her, starting with the veteran nobles, the big figures present reported their names one by one, each voice louder than the last, all hoping this Saintess could remember who they were.

Betty was a short-stump girl with brown medium-length hair and a hint of roundness on her face, her gaze clear and innocent. Stripped of the halo of holy light, her appearance this time no longer resembled an envoy of the gods descending to save all living beings, but rather looked more like a commoner girl who had wandered by mistake into the garden of the nobles.

“Hello,” Betty said timidly. “I am Betty Clark.”

“Clark?” Mita showed extreme interest in everything concerning the Saintess. “Are you related by blood to the Lord of Bank City?”

Betty shook her head. “No. It is simply because he said I lacked a surname, so he bestowed his own surname upon me.”

Lacking a surname.

The nobles paused, and the gazes they directed toward Betty turned somewhat peculiar.

One must understand that in Gogless, individuals lacking surnames were practically of slave origin, possessing neither land nor property of their own.

“Lord Clark has always been thoughtful in his actions, and this time is no exception,” Cynthia spoke up at the opportune moment. “Your Holiness the Saintess is the messenger of the gods, thus possessing only a name bestowed by the gods. Lord Clark doing this helps Your Holiness establish her connection with us in Gogless. In my view, this is a magnificent matter.”

“Indeed, precisely so,” Carlo chimed in hastily to cooperate. “From this moment onward, Your Holiness the Saintess is a member of Gogless, guarding the nation alongside us.”

With the two of them taking the lead, the nobles also uttered some pleasant remarks, and the festive atmosphere grew lively once more.

Only Mita felt somewhat displeased that Cynthia had stolen his thunder. Coughing loudly twice, he announced, “Very well, now please have Your Holiness the Saintess and everyone accompany me to the dining hall. Your Holiness has endured a long and exhausting journey to reach this place, and truly requires a fine meal to soothe body and mind.”

With the Crown Prince issuing the command, the nobles naturally raised no objections.

Mita nodded with satisfaction, turned around, and took the lead by walking right at the front of the procession.

Cynthia had originally intended to follow closely by his side, but noticing that Betty’s walking direction was somewhat incorrect, she halted instead.

In truth, not just Cynthia, but nearly everyone present noticed as well. Aside from Mita, who walked ahead absorbed in himself, they all discovered that Her Holiness the Saintess was not following the Crown Prince into the palace, but had instead walked among the nobles, finally stopping right in front of a bewildered Carlo.

Carlo gazed at her in blank confusion. “Your Holiness the Saintess?”

“Thank you for speaking up for me just now,” Betty said with a hint of shyness. “Might you tell me your name?”

“My name is Carlo,” the young noble favored by the Saintess said awkwardly. “You may address me as such.”

“I have memorized it, Carlo.” Betty smiled, her expression looking remarkably pure and pretty judging solely by her exterior. “Everyone’s names are terribly long; only you are like me.”

Carlo, whose formal name was actually an extensive string as well, turned his head away in embarrassment, lacking the courage to offer an explanation.

Mita finally noticed that Betty had lagged behind, prompting him to step back out. “Your Holiness the Saintess?”

Immediately, he discovered the Saintess standing directly before Carlo, a pretty smile still resting on her face.

Mita’s complexion turned quite unattractive, yet unwilling to reprimand the Saintess who acted of her own accord, he could only pivot his target toward his good friend. “Carlo, I assume you are well aware of what duties should be attended to right now.”

“I am sorry, it was I who delayed things,” Betty spoke up, hurrying toward Mita’s side. “Please forgive me, Your Royal Highness.”

This time, the Saintess Betty and Prince Mita walked side by side, leaving Cynthia, who served as Mita’s fiancée, forced to trail behind them.

On the previous occasion, facing such a scene, Cynthia had felt immense dissatisfaction. Yet constrained by Betty’s status, she could ultimately only endure it, though her expression grew so wretched that Fiona used it as the butt of jokes for quite a long time.

Yet this time, following behind the pair, she lacked the mental capacity to ponder what impact this might have on herself or her family.

Her entire mind was occupied by the image of Betty smiling at Carlo just moments ago.

What is the meaning of this behavior from Betty? Could it be that she has taken a fancy to Carlo?

Correct, it must have been Mita’s brainless remarks just now that provoked her dissatisfaction, causing her to develop a favorable impression of Carlo for stepping in to smooth over the atmosphere.

Cynthia maintained a gentle smile and aristocratic demeanor on the surface, while mentally throttling Mita ten thousand times over.

This fellow, whose mouth served no purpose other than consuming food and offending people, apart from his face which could still be used to deceive others, was less useful than a beggar on the streets of Gauss.

Namely, because a beggar’s speech at least would not intentionally provoke people into anger while expecting everyone else to rush to coax them.

Cynthia cursed Mita repeatedly in her mind until they were seated in the dining hall, whereupon she let out a barely audible sigh.

My poor Lilica, Sister Cynthia will certainly not allow your beloved to be snatched away by the Saintess.

Far away in the countryside at a considerable distance from the royal capital of Gauss, behind a remarkably luxurious mansion.

“Lilica! No matter what, you are still a young lady!” Earl Doyle bellowed in anger. “If you refuse to get engaged to Carlo, who on earth will you be able to marry in the future?”

Countess Doyle also chimed in with tears in her eyes. “Darling, please climb down from up there. That place is far too dangerous, Mama is terrified watching you. Rest assured, your father has no way of forcing you.”

Squatting up in the tree, Lilica terrorized her parents with absolute zero conscience: “If you two force me to get engaged to Carlo, I will squat right up here in this tree and piss on him!”