The Female Knight of Doom - TFKOD 29: The Secret Chamber’s Beauty

“No, this is still a dream.”

“But this…” Alice touched her lips.

The recent touch was undoubtedly real. She grimaced in agony as she pinched her thigh.

On the other side, there was laughter, as though they were mocking her lack of experience, “I think you’ve forgotten a lot of what I told you about this when we first met in the temple when you were a kid because it’s been so long. You can’t wake me up on your own; it takes a lot of prayer power. However, your unceasing prayers during this time have really given my dreams more strength and enabled me to condense into a physical body, even though it cannot be considered a visible image—at least it can be touched.”

She felt a hand resting on her own as He spoke, “Like this. I can assist you, or I can serve as a priest and conduct the ceremony.” He said, assisting her to stand, “However, I appear too odd to be noticed. Fortunately, there isn’t any light here, or you would get scared.”

It was difficult to avoid wanting to know what He said.

Alice took hold of his hand and refused to release it. There was no body temperature and the hand was cold. The shape was definitely a human hand, but the touch was also distinct from human skin.

The appearance of the body attached to this hand is simply unknown to her.

In other words, she was curious about the lips that had just planted a kiss on her. Even though this kiss was her first and only represented the ceremony’s procedure rather than any personal significance, her heart was still changing in ways that could not be explained.

She wanted to touch it up along his arm, so she pulled his wrist.

A second hand caught Alice’s hand as it had just touched his forearm. He was very persistent in his gesture, and she had to give up.

“Anyway, we’ve finally finished the ceremony. This is a somewhat ancient ceremony, and it’s different from the one that’s popular in the temple now,” the god said gravely, as though saying so would conceal the slight hand gestures of the two individuals. “Since there weren’t many followers of the gods at first, each believer was required to swear to dedicate their name, glory, and possessions. Traditionally, one can only be considered a formal believer following such a ceremony.”

Nodding, Alice said, “Oh.”

In a very soft voice, He went on, “My only believer is you. I’ve stored your name in my heart and remembered it. You can now call and use my name as you please. As I stated during the ceremony, I will be by your side whenever you call.”

Must she address the god by his name? She truly wanted to do it, even though it was a little embarrassing.

Softly, she called, “… Lord Cecillion?”

Still using the odd manner of addressing them in the temple.

He corrected her with a smile, “Just call me Cecillion.”

“Cecilion.”

A warm breeze, like an embrace, blew directly at Alice after she called his name.

Then the god fell silent, as though He had said all that needed to be said and didn’t need to say anything more.

At some point, the hand that had once held hers had vanished as well. She wanted to know why He wanted her to remain here, but Cecillion, the God of Doom, remained silent.

Maybe He thought there was no need to explain this issue now because the solution would become clear in due time.

Or maybe it was because just her prayers weren’t enough; He only needed to hold this one ceremony for her because of the prayers she had prayed over the previous few months.

She had no idea how to transform prayer’s power into divine power or how many days of prayer would be required to have a brief conversation with him.

She knew that his “dream” was still present even though He had already disintegrated his physical form and stopped talking. His presence made the never-ending darkness and loneliness much more tolerable.

Alice had no idea how long she had been imprisoned.

It had likely been around three days if she counted the number of times food was delivered. Throughout these three days, the food delivery person simply slid the food through the door’s tiny window without saying anything.

She had repeatedly called out for them to bring her a lamp, but nobody had listened.

Considering the circumstances, it appeared that they were purposefully abandoning her in such obscurity, possibly in an effort to weaken her resolve. She thought she would have gone insane if Cecillion hadn’t been there.

That day, after dinner was served, Earl Rachel made his appearance.

Alice’s eyes stung from the candlelight as he opened the window and showed his face.

“My master wishes to see you.” The earl’s remarks were a notification only, not a question.

He turned and walked away after saying this, leaving her bewildered.

Master? Why would a master be owned by an earl?

Since His Majesty the King is also known as their master, nobles typically swear loyalty to him. However, in this particular situation, the earl’s reference could not possibly be the king.

Thinking back on the questions she had asked about the earl, Alice suddenly remembered a strange rumor that she had not taken seriously at first.

Rumor has it that even though the earl publicly dominates the Mercenary Union and has authority on par with a king, the union is actually not his. He is only a gatekeeper, even though he has the keys to all the wealth.

Although he professed loyalty to the king, he was actually working for another master.

This issue is also known to the king. He has sent out numerous spies using every possible method, but he has never been successful in identifying that master. Some people think that the earl’s master is Marquess Graham, the greatest nobleman in the north, but this is just idle conjecture.

Ultimately, the king would have no excuse for not learning if it were indeed him.

The king himself was unable to decipher it, and even Alice’s limited cramming was insufficient to guess the real identity of Earl Rachel’s master. She thought that this master must be a very special individual, but speculation of this kind was completely pointless and useless.

In any case, all she wants is the crown. She might be able to meet the earl’s master and things might change.

The earl promised to allow her to see his master, but nobody showed up to take her.

She didn’t have to hurry. She fell asleep on the straw after dinner because she was so tired.

As Alice slept, the guards of the earl arrived, unlocked the dungeon door, and took her away.

To explain this was really embarrassing. The earl’s men were a little scared of her and concerned about accidents, so they put some sleeping pills in her dinner before sending her off with assurance.

Alice awoke and opened her eyes to discover that she was sleeping on a large, comfortable bed rather than a dungeon.

She had never slept in a more comfortable bed in her life. She felt extremely refreshed after this experience, rolled over twice, and was reluctant to get up for a while.

She frequently received a discounted rate to stay in the inn’s opulent rooms when she was with Rom. Mercenaries, or at most a few knights who had lost their masters and were struggling financially, were the typical visitors to those inns.

In addition to the fact that the so-called “luxury rooms” were slightly larger, Rom had no idea what it meant to love the young and respect the elderly. Alice slept in the followers’ outer room bed, which was not much better than the bed in the regular guest room, even if they were staying in opulent rooms.

The light in the bedroom was actually very dim, but it took Alice a moment to get used to it after three days in the dark. She took a long time to sit up and shuffled around in bed.

She started by checking herself from head to toe, as she usually did.

Fortunately, she was unharmed.

The dagger had not even been removed from the bedside table. But now she was wearing a white cotton morning gown instead of the ragged clothes she had been wearing. She appeared to be very free and had no chains or anything like that on her body. But there was only a door and no windows in the room.

Is this dungeon another one?

It was unlikely because no one would place a bed that comfortable in a dungeon.

She approached and pushed the door.

They unlocked the door and pushed it open. A girl who looked like a servant was standing at the door. She saluted Alice when she saw her emerge.

Alice started asking, “Where is the Earl Rachel?” and then paused. “And where are my clothes?”

The servant responded, “Lord Rachel brought you here and then went back. As for your ripped clothing, they were thrown into the laundry room. Do you desire them?”

She shook her head in surprise, “If there is a replacement, I don’t want it.”

The dress was second-hand when she purchased it, and it was likely unwearable after she had worn it to three of the earl’s parties, engaged in combat, and spent a few days rolling around in the dungeon’s straw.

The servant gave a nod, “After breakfast, you will meet the master. Don’t worry, please. Wait a minute here. I’ll get you some clothes and breakfast.”

Apparently with no intention of limiting Alice’s freedom, the servant concluded her speech and departed.

She stood at the door and peered down the hallway, but she saw no windows.

This was the basement of some place, if it wasn’t a mansion that had been constructed without windows. They didn’t need to find someone to watch her because they were positive she couldn’t get out of the building, which most likely had only one exit.

She didn’t want to run, of course. It would be too great a loss if she fled now, since she had already persevered to this point.

She had to see the earl’s master first, anyway.

The servant and Alice’s own senses told her that she was no longer in the earl’s mansion.

The room was unremarkable except for the absence of windows, so she returned to it. Beside it was a dressing table with some makeup that was typically used by women.

These did not appeal to Alice, so she just climbed back into bed and rolled around twice while she waited for breakfast to be brought by the servant.

She had heard that this was how some high-class ladies ate breakfast. She had previously stayed in inn’s suites that occasionally offered this type of service, but she had never found it enjoyable. After washing her face in the morning, she would dash outside to join Rom in martial arts practice. She would return after a practice session and devour her meal.

She was somewhat thrilled that she could now enjoy this type of treatment.

Alice was obviously expected to eat in bed when a servant soon entered carrying a big silver tray.

No matter what, breakfast needs to be a filling meal. She had learned that lesson from Rom first. Better bacon, sausages, mushrooms, and vegetables were served for breakfast here, which was a step up from the typical inn fare. Even the fried eggs were expertly prepared into perfect circles and served on toast with a delectable sauce.

She felt better after eating a delicious meal.

A lady’s servant’s dress, neat but not particularly ostentatious, was soon put on her.

Alice’s afraid it will be hard to get away after seeing the earl’s master in such clothing.

Despite thinking this, she remained silent.

She was shown to a drawing-room by the servant, where she discovered the earl’s master.

In her mind, the earl’s master ought to be a grave old man, but she never imagined that it would be a woman younger than the earl.

Her skin was as perfect as jade and so white that it was nearly transparent, as though she had not seen the sun in a long time. The woman was breathtakingly beautiful. Her exquisite clothing had a shape more akin to a priest’s robes than the dresses of typical noble ladies.

Their function was unknown, and the odd designs embroidered on them with gold thread did not appear to be merely ornaments.

What about the headpiece she’s wearing? It was the missing crown of the duchess, and Alice could not have misidentified it.

This item should be hidden in a treasure trove with other jewelry or displayed as a decoration in a glass cabinet, according to her original vision. At this time, she never imagined that this item was truly worn on a woman’s head.

The crown was intended to be worn on the head, of course. However, its original owner had passed away, and the earl had promised his sister-in-law that he would keep it as a keepsake, only to quickly give it to someone else.

The earl had overreached himself in this regard.

Hold on a second…

Alice had an odd thought as she stared at the woman in front of her.

Does this crown’s original owner still exist?

She was certain she had never seen the woman before, but she thought she recognized her face. She was positive that she had seen a person who resembled her.

Who was it, though?

Without the crown, she might not have reached the conclusion so quickly; however, the face with the crown on it provided her with a potential solution to the puzzle.

“You are… the Duchess Felix’s… sister?”