The Villainess's Secret Bedroom Service
Chapter 46: The Black Carriage

Chapter 46: The Black Carriage

’It does not look like it was sent from the Imperial Palace, the invitation sent to Damien from Princess Angelica had an Imperial seal on it... Who would send me a letter here?’

Reluctantly, Rosalie broke the seal of the envelope, her thoughts still grappling with the unlikelihood of receiving a letter from anyone other than Princess Angelica, let alone a friend or acquaintance. As her eyes scanned the carefully penned black letters, her eyebrows arched in surprise—the mysterious message had come from the Holy Temple.

<Dear Lady Rosalie,

Regrettably, I find my schedule overlapping today, and I won’t be able to make it to our scheduled treatment session. However, if you still wish to receive the treatment, I would be delighted to welcome you directly at the Temple.

Sincerely,

Altair Nestor.>

The girl’s gaze remained fixated on the contents of the peculiar letter, an unexpected sense of nervousness and uncertainty washing over her.

’This is rather weird... If he is so busy, why did he bother inviting me to the Temple when he could have just rescheduled or canceled the session altogether? It’s not like I would die if I wait one more day.’

Despite the nagging voice in the back of her mind urging her to dismiss the invitation and rearrange the session, Lady Ashter found herself unable to resist her curiosity. After all, this would be her first visit to the Temple, and with no guarantee of another opportunity in the future, especially since she planned to depart the Capital eventually, she made the daring decision to accept Altair’s invitation and venture into the enigmatic confines of the Temple.

"What is it, My Lady? May I inquire about the sender of the letter, if you would pardon my humble curiosity."

Aurora leaned closer to her lady, peeking at the letter from behind Rosalie’s shoulder, while Logan put down the wooden birdfeeder and fixed his deep crimson eyes on the lady’s hands, eager to hear her answer as well.

Taken aback by that sudden surge of prying from the two of them, she wanted to tease them at first, denying them the satisfaction of revealing the name of the sender, however, as her squinted gray eyes kept getting caught both in Aurora’s innocently ignorant gaze and in Logan’s puppy-like pouting expression, Rosalie decided to give in and let out a defeated sigh.

"It was sent from the Temple. Revered Altair cannot come to the mansion today, so he has invited me to visit him there instead."

"Truly? That is quite unexpected."

Logan arched his thick, reddish eyebrows and deftly retrieved the envelope from Rosalie’s hands, meticulously examining its authenticity.

"Hmm... It appears genuine. This was undoubtedly sent from the Holy Temple. The golden ink used here is often reserved for communications from His Holiness himself."

"Very well, then. Let us make haste to the Temple without delay!"

Enthusiastic about embarking on this modest yet exhilarating expedition, Rosalie requested Logan to prepare a carriage, while Aurora assisted her in preparing for the visit as a trip to such a grand and esteemed location necessitated a certain refinement in her appearance.

***

As Lady Ashter and her knight embarked on one of Damien’s elegant black carriages, adorned with recognizable golden ornaments, Rosalie’s initial excitement began to wane, replaced by a troubling realization of the impulsive nature of her decision.

’I allowed my insatiable curiosity to cloud my judgment. This sudden visit to the Temple poses potential dangers – what if my demonic power is detected by someone there, or worse, if I encounter the High Priest himself?’

The possibility of arousing suspicion among the Temple’s authorities and the risk of being exposed as a vessel of demonic power loomed over her mind, a consequence of her hasty recklessness. Alas, attempting to change her plans now, while already en route to the Temple, would only raise further suspicion, especially since Logan would easily discern any feigned illness, given her lively demeanor moments ago.

"Pray tell, Sir Logan, have you ever graced the Temple with your presence?"

The Knight crossed his imposing arms in front of his chest, his countenance adorned with a somewhat smug smile.

"Indeed, My Lady, on numerous occasions. As His Grace’s first-in-command, accompanying him for treatments was part of my duties. Additionally, before setting off to the battlefield, the "Shadow Army" receives the blessing from His Holiness, as per His Majesty the Emperor’s decree."

"I see."

Rosalie fidgeted in her seat, a growing restlessness overcoming her. She took a deep breath and lifted her gaze.

"I must admit, I feel somewhat anxious. It has been quite some time since my last visit to the Holy Place. What if I falter or commit an inadvertent error?"

Bewildered by the lack of confidence in his lady’s voice, Sir Logan raised his thick eyebrows, offering Rosalie an encouraging smile in an attempt to dispel her unnecessary uncertainty.

"Please, do not fret, My Lady. The Temple is a sacred place that abhors hostility or animosity. Besides, as His Grace’s esteemed fiancee, nobody, not even His Holiness himself, would dare to accuse you of any mistakes. You can trust in your position and your worth."

Logan’s reassuring tone and warm smile finally helped Rosalie ease her mind and release the heavy tension that burdened her shoulders. The nature of demonic power made it elusive and hard to discern; even Altair did not detect anything amiss during his direct contact with Lady Ashter. Furthermore, as the Knight wisely noted, Rosalie’s status as Grand Duke Damien Dio’s betrothed would surely shield her from any mistreatment within the Holy Place.

Calmed by that reassuring thought, Rosalie gazed out of the coach window, her ears catching the distant sound of another carriage approaching from the opposite direction. Eager to see more, she leaned closer, but the loud clamor of approaching horses made her wince and draw back, her wide eyes still fixed on the window glass.

Despite their carriage moving at a moderate pace, the other coach zoomed past them like a fleeting blur – a kaleidoscope of gold and white resembling a flurry of fluttering snow.

’I wonder who that was? They appear to be heading toward the Duchy.’

Rosalie shifted her curious gaze to Sir Logan who seemed to be bothered by the same question as his face was still turned toward the carriage window. Then, all of a sudden, their own coach came to an abrupt halt, prompting both Lady Ashter and her knight to nearly fall onto each other, instinctively grasping onto their seats.

Sir Logan’s hand firmly grasped the ornamented hilt of his black sword, and he leaned closer to Rosalie, gently tapping his fist against the carriage wall behind her, his voice adopting a cool and commanding tone as he addressed the coachman,

"What has occurred?"