I’m Trapped in a Bloody Reverse Harem Game - Chapter 178

“Dietrich.”

“Ah, Haniel. You’re here. Would you mind waiting a moment? I have a prior engagement…”

Dietrich spoke with an awkward expression. The nobles around us looked at me with sneers full of ridicule.

It was mockery directed at me for chasing after Dietrich.

Once again, my day began with the task of finding him. Rumors had begun to spread that the Saintess was persistently following the Grand Duke.

Just as Dietrich had intended, and exactly as I had predicted.

After spending the morning searching all over for him, I finally located him in the afternoon.

Finding him was good and all, but the problem was the crowd of people around him.

It must’ve been because the weather was pleasant all day that their tea party had run longer than usual, and Dietrich had likely arrived here just before I did.

To mock me in front of as many people as possible.

“The Saintess never leaves the Grand Duke’s side, does she?”

“I heard you first met the Grand Duke in the Holy Kingdom… Seeing how deeply you’ve fallen, I guess saints are no different from ordinary people.”

Voices laced with mockery poured toward me.

Dietrich merely stood there smiling awkwardly. It was a smile that encouraged them.

A smile that seemed to say he had no affection for me at all—something about it amused me.

On such a sunny day, the Dietrich in reality and I would sit and talk together. There were no people mocking us, no one interrupting.

So unlike this place now.

It was fun trying to find different expressions from this Dietrich compared to the one in reality.

It was also interesting to compare the things the real Dietrich had predicted I would do with the way this one reacted.

Would Dietrich realize I was looking at someone else through him?

I didn’t respond to their ridicule. I didn’t feel the need to. I had a hunch Dietrich would step in soon anyway.

“Haniel is an ordinary person.”

Though the way he stepped in felt a bit off.

“Just because someone’s a saint doesn’t mean they don’t fall in love. Right, Haniel?”

Dietrich spoke as he lightly kissed my cheek. Reflexively, I nearly tilted my head to match his movement.

Habit is a terrifying thing.

I nearly revealed a habit formed in reality, and as I shivered at the thought, Dietrich’s smile deepened.

The stares of those watching us grew heavier.

Dietrich always claimed he wasn’t someone fit to be loved, but whether this or that, in my eyes it was only natural that people loved him.

His handsome face aside, his gentle tone, his unwavering smile—if he could maintain such an attitude at all times, it must mean it was part of his nature.

“Loving a man more than God—should a saint still be called a saint?”

“This is the first time I’ve heard of a saint getting engaged.”

Mocking voices continued to follow after Dietrich’s veiled remarks, disguised as defense of me.

I simply lowered my gaze and waited for Dietrich to suggest we go elsewhere.

Was this the fifth time already? If I wanted to complete the thirty meetings Dietrich demanded, it would take about two months.

Plenty of time to complete a capture route.

While thinking such thoughts and blankly waiting, Dietrich placed a hand on my shoulder and smiled.

“Well then, we’ll take our leave now. Let’s go, Haniel.”

***

Lately, Dietrich had been smiling more. Because word of the Saintess following him around and being ridiculed had reached his ears.

‘More compliant than I expected.’

The first image that came to Dietrich’s mind when thinking of the Saintess was her obediently following him.

Contrary to expectations, the Saintess seemed to be submitting to him. Whatever her true feelings were, her visible behavior resembled that of someone truly in love.

Especially her eyes—every time she came to find him, her gaze was filled with affection as she looked at him tenderly.

Dietrich, skilled at discerning goodwill and malice, caught on quickly.

It wasn’t the look someone would give a person who had issued them a hostile command.

Dietrich, who was used to receiving goodwill based on appearance, thought:

If that were all it was, then perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad.

But the affection she held toward him was too sincere to have come from mere appearances.

No matter how pleasing something looked, if one knew it contained poison, they wouldn’t consume it.

Since their relationship had started off on the wrong foot, Dietrich had believed she’d never hold any fondness for him.

And yet now, he muttered softly to himself, “Almost as if she truly loves me.”

Then suddenly, he recalled what the Saintess had said when she was poisoned in the Holy Kingdom.

She had clearly muttered that she wanted to leave.

Perhaps the Saintess had wanted to escape her relationship with the Pope.

Maybe she felt affection for the one who had freed her from that bond.

“I don’t know for sure yet. She hasn’t said anything to me.”

Rolling the magic orb with no real evidence in his hand, Dietrich stood up.

He intended to move to a crowded area before the Saintess could find him.

She had found him so easily the first three times that he hadn’t even been able to embarrass her in front of others.

He even found it rather amusing how easily she located him, and each day he found himself looking forward to when she would appear.

And so, the Saintess’s Imperial banquet drew near.

Assigned to help prepare the welcome banquet for her, he agonized over finding the right attire.

Finding accessories and dresses that wouldn’t lose out to her striking golden hair and captivating features was no easy task.

He browsed through vibrant reds, serene blues, even golds that matched her hair—but after going in circles, he ended up choosing a white dress.

It suited her exceedingly well, though he couldn’t shake the thought that there must be something even better.

Leaving the dress behind, he made his way to a place likely to be crowded.

Today, a tea party was being hosted by a marquis family.

Given the reputation of the noble daughter organizing the event, the number of attendees would likely be significant.

“Your Grace.”

“We hadn’t heard you’d be attending today…”

As he arrived, greetings poured in from every direction. Dietrich returned them with a practiced, artificial smile.

Until the Saintess arrived, he passed the time entertaining the nobles, unable to hide how bored he was.

In the moment he silently prayed for her to find him soon, his eyes met a pair of golden ones.

They belonged to the Saintess—Haniel.

Golden eyes similar to Lucius’s, yet entirely different in their gentleness.

Under the clear sky, her figure stood out more than ever.

“Dietrich.”

Haniel called him with a soft voice. It was strange how a single name could convey such warmth.

A voice like one calling a beloved—reaching Dietrich’s ears—and he smiled.

“Ah, Haniel. You’re here. Would you mind waiting a moment? I have a prior engagement…”

There was no such prior engagement, yet even then, Haniel showed no sign of being upset at being made to wait.

Nor at the mocking stares, nor the ridicule of others.

As if she heard only Dietrich’s voice, as if she saw only his smile—her behavior mystified him.

‘If that’s a mask, just how much longer can she endure it?’

That’s why he flashed a difficult smile, the kind that encouraged the others.

He was curious about the moment that mask would break.

But her mask never faltered.

“Haniel is an ordinary person.”

Even in the moment he kissed her cheek.

“Just because someone’s a saint doesn’t mean they don’t fall in love. Right, Haniel?”

Her shoulders trembled bashfully at his words—clearly sincere.

Dietrich, close enough to notice, saw her downcast eyes quiver with affection.

She really did love him.

Enough to tremble with joy from just a kiss on the cheek.

Realizing that, Dietrich felt his sense of superiority reaffirmed.

He now held not only her weakness—but her heart as well.

That meant he could sway her with nothing more than a word.

Placing a hand on her shoulder, Dietrich led Haniel away. “Well then, we’ll take our leave now. Let’s go, Haniel.”

In his mind flashed the dress he had chosen.

The intricately laced dress.

What kind of expression would the Saintess make when she saw it?

Would she smile, or frown at the overly elaborate lace?

A woman in love—surely, she would accept his choice with the same warm gaze she always gave him.