~CMWDD 15~
Chapter 15
As far as she remembered, she had never been to the main church in Odor, but she asked just in case. After all, adults usually know more about childhood matters.
The Count of Odor furrowed his brows for a moment.
“Hmm… neither you nor your sister wandered around the city much; you mostly stayed in the outskirts. But you might have come here once. Why?”
“Probably, right? I might have come once.”
That would explain why she had such a vivid dream.
Accepting it that way, Olentia was about to enter the church with her uncle.
But then her eyes caught something—an orange seashell hairpin flickering like a candle flame. A woman had just arrived at the church.
“Ah!”
In the nightmare-like situation, Olentia screamed and covered her face with both hands.
Count Odor, more surprised than she was, shifted his body, and the woman with the orange seashell hairpin also turned to look at Olentia.
She felt like she might faint immediately.
She couldn’t understand why she was seeing the woman and the seashell hairpin from her dream right here.
As she flinched, Count Odor looked at her in confusion.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing at all.”
Olentia gave a faint smile to reassure him, but her eyes accidentally met those of the woman with the orange hairpin.
The woman was a beauty with thick brown hair, a charm mark under her right eye. When she smiled, her thin lips curved upward, giving the impression she had charmed many men before. There was also a faint scent of perfume.
It had clearly been a foreboding dream.
Olentia calmed herself and, with Count Odor, entered the main church.
Honestly, she was still quite flustered inside. Just like in her dream, there were magnificent frescoes, a golden altar, and oak doors decorated with intricate scroll patterns.
Where the light from the stained glass sparkled, Olentia finally saw the face of Archbishop Werbu, whom she had longed to meet. His overall expression was gentle, but his eyes were sharp, reflecting that he had personally come to handle matters at the Count of Odor’s main church.
“Pleased to meet you, Lady Armenia.”
Olentia bowed politely.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Your Grace.”
“You’ve traveled a long way. I hear you have something important to discuss with me. Is that correct?”
The archbishop seemed impatient with wasting time.
Olentia nodded, a bit nervous. Could she really cancel her marriage to Marquis Luxus? She worried, not knowing the outcome.
Next to the archbishop was another man with an even gentler, almost fatherly face. He also greeted Olentia.
“I am Priest Ankedo, temporarily serving the Archbishop Werbu here in Odor.”
Olentia smiled warmly in return.
“Yes, Ankedo.”
“While you stay at Count Odor’s estate, if you need anything from the church, you can ask Ankedo. The Count is understandably busy.”
From the archbishop’s words, Olentia sensed his deep trust in Ankedo.
After she nodded, Ankedo guided her and Count Odor to the reception room.
The room was tidy. A white tablecloth covered the table, and several golden religious statues were displayed.
Olentia swallowed nervously. She fiddled with her hands under the table and felt her legs trembling. She worried about what would happen if the archbishop rejected her outright.
Her uncle, however, seemed ready to speak on her behalf, which was the worst. Using her uncle’s influence could sway the archbishop, and she didn’t want that.
‘I need to speak first, before him.’
As expected, her uncle took a sip of tea and started speaking.
“About that…”
“I will speak. I want to say it myself.”
As she calmly explained, the archbishop gave a slight smile, and her uncle looked at her in surprise.
“No, but…”
“Uncle, I’m fine.”
Olentia silenced her uncle and cleared her throat. She wished she could borrow her mother Malisa’s wisdom in moments like this. She was a famous philanthropist in the Bonus Empire and renowned for her eloquence when speaking in grand squares.
‘Mother, give me strength!’
After a brief prayer, Olentia opened her eyes wide and addressed the archbishop.
“I’m terribly sorry, but please cancel my wedding scheduled under the special marriage permit. I never consented to the marriage; at the time, my guardian, Count Armenia, applied without my permission.”
She felt it was the right thing to do. The archbishop disliked wasting time, so there was no point in beating around the bush.
Honestly, she wanted to explain everything—how selfish Socor and Kikozeria were, and how terrible Marquis Luxus, the groom, was.
But none of that concerned Archbishop Werbu.
Olentia thought she had conveyed her request clearly.
Yet, the room suddenly felt colder. A subtly chilling atmosphere settled.
The archbishop remained silent, eventually picking up his teacup to speak.
“It cannot be done, Lady. A special marriage permit carries the weight of being able to wed quickly in the cathedral, which is a serious promise.”
“Even though I had no knowledge of it? It’s practically fraud.”
Olentia clenched her trembling hands and straightened her posture. One wrong move, and her knees would give out—but she couldn’t show weakness.
“Please, Your Grace. I do not wish to be sold into marriage like a debauched drunkard’s plaything.”
She pleaded again, but the archbishop sighed heavily.
“If you cancel the wedding entirely, Lady, you will never have a marriage blessed by God again. Are you certain?”
Among the nobility of the Bonus Empire, none married outside the cathedral. A God-blessed ceremony was extremely important. To never have such a marriage meant performing a secret, low-profile ceremony. Not only would that exclude her from noble society, but it could also be considered ominous, inviting ridicule or worse.
Olentia clenched her fists and trembled. She couldn’t bear the thought of entering Bonus Cathedral with Marquis Luxus, just as Socor and Kikozeria had intended.
‘There must be another way! Another plan!’
But the archbishop spoke firmly again.
“Lady, your marriage to Marquis Luxus is as good as promised to God. You must go through with it. That is the best course.”
Her heart crumbled.
Olentia looked at the archbishop with sad eyes. He sipped his tea as if it were none of his concern.
Then her uncle finally spoke.
“It doesn’t have to be Marquis Luxus, does it?”
Olentia shot him a look as if he’d said something absurd.
Count Odor remained seriously earnest.
“The special marriage permit was applied for by Count Armenia, Olentia’s guardian at the time. The promise to God concerns Olentia alone. So it doesn’t have to be Marquis Luxus.”
The archbishop let out a small laugh and set down his teacup.
“Indeed, that seems reasonable. Count Odor is correct.”
When Olentia left the reception room, she was dazed. Thinking over what her uncle and Archbishop Werbu had said, she couldn’t help but laugh dryly.
“So… I can’t cancel the wedding entirely, but I can bring another man instead of Marquis Luxus.”
Yet all she wanted was to cancel the wedding outright. Finding a replacement groom immediately would be difficult—and she didn’t even wish to marry.
Her uncle, however, looked extremely urgent.
“We must find suitable men quickly. Among those I know, Marquis Hermil has a good character.”
“No, Uncle. I’m not giving up yet.”
“Not giving up? You mean canceling the wedding?”
“Yes. I’m thinking of finding a solution.”
“Hmm. You know the archbishop never changes his mind once he calls something God’s promise.”
Olentia still had hope. She wanted to save her uncle’s method as a last resort.
Her uncle started moving toward the carriage.
“Let’s go home for now. That’s enough for today.”
Standing in front of the church, Olentia spoke to Count Odor.
“I still have some business inside the church. Could you come to pick me up around evening?”
She had something to confirm inside the church. Perhaps thinking it was merely stubbornness, Count Odor didn’t question her further and nodded.
“Alright. Stay out of trouble.”
“You, Uncle, are the one clearly going for trouble. Don’t waste your effort.”
He had mentioned finding a good man, so she suspected he might try arranging a meeting.
Count Odor quickly boarded the carriage. Olentia watched it leave, then looked up again at the high steeple of the main church. She planned to search the church to recall if she had truly been there before.
That would also reveal whether her dream was prophetic or not.
Wanting to avoid showing this side of herself to others, Olentia started with the outskirts. Slowly walking, she reached the church’s backyard.
The yard was covered in countless pebbles, with a small resting area of white tables and chairs.
Then…
Clomp, clomp!
Startled by hurried footsteps approaching from the backyard, Olentia instinctively hid behind a tree.
