A fortune-telling princess Chapter 181

“Ugh… H-Hurry and cut off my hand! Now!”

He cried out desperately one last time. Even if it meant becoming a cripple, he wanted to live—so he shouted for someone to sever the hand that held the sword.

But no one could move so easily. It was the judgment of God. Who would dare to intervene?

“Keugh!”

In the end, the sword of judgment pierced slowly into Cardinal Stera’s heart.

His eyes, once distorted by fear and pain, gradually lost their light.

After a few spasms, his body soon fell still. Everyone watching stood frozen, their expressions hard with silence.

No one opened their mouth. No one moved. In the eyes fixed on the sword of judgment, there was nothing but pure terror.

Slide—

At that moment, someone stepped up beside the fallen Cardinal Stera and personally pulled out the sword. It was Cardinal Martio.

He gently closed the eyes of Stera, who had died with them still open, and clicked his tongue quietly. But he did not offer a prayer for him.

“God’s judgment has been delivered.”

This was a divine decision, and the death that followed was by God’s will. Even mourning him would be an act against that will.

Carefully placing the sword of judgment before the Pope, Cardinal Martio continued in a subdued voice.

“He is also one who took his own life.”

At his words, the Pope gave a heavy nod.

Even though he had held the title of cardinal, Stera would not find proper rest. He would not be allowed even near the graves where the faithful were laid to sleep.

“……”

People’s gazes returned once more to the sword of judgment. Though it had just been buried in someone’s heart, not a drop of blood stained it—it was perfectly clean.

That sight sent another chill down the spines of those who looked upon it. And with that, they once again felt a deep reverence for Camilla, who had brought the sword.

****

“You sometimes treat our organization like we’re errand boys instead of assassins. Even the kids are surprised every time we take one of your requests.”

Her request had been simple: to post up a public notice condemning Cardinal Stera’s sins, where everyone would see it clearly.

“You could’ve just quietly taken him out.”

“Someone like him shouldn’t be given an easy death.”

“You knew he’d die like that?”

“More or less. I figured someone would invoke the sword of judgment.”

When Jaynorr suggested they might try to elevate Camilla as a ‘Saintess’, the others scoffed—if just wielding the sword of judgment was already so troublesome, what would happen if someone claiming divine revelation joined the church? No one would even dare bring it up.

After Stera’s death, perhaps afraid that their own sins might be exposed, the clergy were said to be drying up day by day, with visible anxiety.

“By the way, Dorman hasn’t been around lately.”

“Yeah, he’s been disappearing all the time.”

“I hope that guy’s at least packed properly for tomorrow’s outing.”

Empress Javiela—who knew what possessed her to send such an invitation again?

“Ugh, I really don’t want to go.”

‘Let’s just show our face and get out as fast as possible.’

****

As before, the tea party was held in the imperial garden. The moment Camilla arrived, people flocked to her side.

‘Saintess.’ That one word was enough to draw attention and capture hearts.

Watching their overly eager reactions to her every word, Camilla couldn’t help but feel a bit uneasy.

Among those who approached her with feigned familiarity, there was one especially familiar face—Lady Juella, who had once pulled her hair in a party over Petro.

‘Since when were we on such casual terms?’

‘At least relax your glare a little.’

She was clearly trying hard to seem friendly, but the annoyance in her eyes made it obvious that the effort was forced.

Perhaps it was a family order? Something like, “You must establish ties with her.”

‘Yeah, must be tough for you too.’

Camilla thought. Pretending to smile in front of someone you dislike—it must be exhausting. She decided to let the girl’s awkward display of friendliness slide.

“You all seem to be enjoying yourselves.”

A familiar voice rang out. It was Empress Javiela, the host of this tea party. At her appearance, everyone bowed deeply.

“Thank you for the invitation, Your Majesty.”

“Lady Javiela, you’re stunning as always.”

Polite greetings were exchanged, and the garden once again grew lively with chatter.

“……”

But when Camilla saw Empress Javiela, she couldn’t say a word. She had to muster every bit of strength just to keep her mouth from dropping open.

“Welcome, Lady Camilla.”

Before she knew it, the Empress was right beside her, greeting her warmly.

“Yes, Your Majesty. Thank you for inviting me.”

Camilla quickly bowed her head to hide her shocked expression. With her head down, she bit her lip to stop a sigh from escaping.

‘What is that? What happened to her?’