DGCBYH 03

Chapter 3. Daring to Be Married

“Saint?”

Belladonna was catching her breath at the dining room entrance when a maid saw her and looked up with a puzzled face.

Belladonna quickly put on a calm face and gave her a graceful smile.

“Ah, Saint… The Pope is waiting for you.”

The maid, looking delighted, opened the dining room door for her.

Belladonna walked in slowly and looked at her adoptive father, the Pope, sitting at the table.

“Belladonna, you’re here,” he said in a low voice, holding his water glass.

Belladonna greeted him politely and sat down at the other end of the long table.

She reached for her cup, watching the Pope carefully, when his dignified voice came again.

“Ah, please wait a little before eating. We have another guest joining us today.”

A guest?

Belladonna’s blue eyes widened, but she nodded.

It wasn’t rare for someone to join the Pope at meals. Belladonna was used to just eating quietly, half-listening to their talk.

‘I’m hungry…’

She looked longingly at the delicious food on the table.

Whoever the guest was, she hoped they would hurry up.

Knock knock.

There was a knock at the door.

Belladonna stood up to welcome the Pope’s guest, putting on her usual bright smile.

She expected a high-ranking noble visiting for politics.

But—

“…!”

A huge figure entered, and Belladonna’s eyes grew wide.

The maid who opened the door blushed as the man walked in.

“Sir Diete, welcome,” the Pope said, coming forward to shake his hand.

It was the same big man Belladonna had seen sleeping under the tree earlier—the intruder!

‘Oh, no…’

She couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was much taller and stronger than most people, with black hair falling over his forehead and golden eyes shining dangerously.

A little while ago, he’d been in simple clothes, but now he was wearing a formal uniform for the Pope (though his buttons weren’t all fastened).

“I greet you, Your Holiness,” he said in a deep, pleasant voice.

“Bella?”

The Pope turned to Belladonna, who was still frozen.

She quickly forced a smile and bowed her head.

‘Ahh… I think I’m in trouble…’

The Pope laughed.

“This is my only daughter, Belladonna. I think my daughter was dazzled by your looks, Sir Diete.”

The man looked straight at Belladonna with his bright golden eyes.

“I think I’m the one who should be dazzled, not the Saint,” he said.

Belladonna felt herself drawn into his eyes and swallowed nervously.

‘Wh-what kind of look is that…?’

Trying to keep smiling, she felt cold sweat down her back.

The Pope laughed loudly and pointed to the table.

“Come, have a seat. The food will get cold.”

He led the man to his seat and then sat down on the other side.

Belladonna also sat, glancing at the man, feeling nervous.

‘He couldn’t have heard my voice earlier… right? Right?’

Then the Pope said:

“As you know, my daughter cannot speak.”

‘Are you really going to say that right away, Father?’

Belladonna glanced nervously at the man next to her. He said nothing, just sipped his wine.

Suddenly, he looked away from her.

Belladonna, startled, quickly turned her own gaze.

The Pope went on:

“She may have many shortcomings… But I hope you see her in a positive light.”

‘What are you talking about? What is this conversation in front of me?’

Belladonna fiddled with her hands under the table, feeling anxious.

She reached for her water glass—her throat felt dry.

Then the man spoke in a low voice:

“Actually, I made up my mind on my way here,” he said.

Both Belladonna and the Pope looked at him.

The man set down his wine glass.

“No matter who I am, I can’t marry someone I’ve never even seen before.”

“Pffft!”
Belladonna spat out her water, soaking her dish and her dress.

“Saint! Are you all right?” the maid hurried to help, wiping Belladonna’s clothes.

Face bright red, Belladonna nodded.

The Pope gave her a worried look.

But Belladonna could see the hint of scolding in his eyes.

She bit her lower lip, then quickly smiled again to show she was okay, even smiling at the maid to thank her.

“Sorry for not warning you ahead of time,” the Pope said.

‘You tell me now, Father…’

The Pope looked away from her and turned to the big man.

“So, should I take that as a refusal?”

Belladonna was relieved—if the man refused, she wouldn’t have to marry this scary stranger.

“No, I meant I was thinking that way on the way here.”

His voice was still relaxed, and somehow amused.

Belladonna squeezed her eyes shut. No way… right?

“So, what do you mean…?” the Pope asked.

The man smiled, turning to Belladonna.

“Now that I’ve met the Saint in person, I want to punch my old self for wanting to refuse.”

The Pope’s face started to brighten.

The man smiled handsomely at Belladonna.

The maids watching turned red and stared, but Belladonna couldn’t even think about that.

His burning gaze was like a predator eyeing its prey.

He spoke slowly:

“If you allow it, I would like to accept the marriage proposal.”

“…”

“I dare to say I want to become your husband, Saint.”

Belladonna tried to force her lips into a smile.

She didn’t know if her usual beautiful smile was working.

‘I really don’t think that guy was asleep under the tree earlier…’

“Belladonna.”

After the guest left and they were alone, the Pope finally spoke.

Belladonna nodded quietly.

“Escallion Diete. He was born a commoner but became a war hero. Two years ago, the Emperor made him a duke and gave him land and huge wealth.”

“You will marry that man.”

‘Yes, I heard earlier…’

Belladonna looked down sadly. Marrying a man she’d never met before—this was all so sudden.

The Pope picked up his wine and clicked his tongue.

“The Vatican’s finances are a mess. Donations are down, and people’s interest isn’t like it used to be.”

‘Isn’t that just because you waste money, Father…?’

Belladonna looked up with a worried face, hiding her true thoughts.

“The temple needs change.”

‘You mean my marriage is the change?’

Her face showed her annoyance for a moment.

The Pope continued:

“Do you know why I picked that rude, low-born man as your husband, my beautiful and wise daughter?”

He grinned slyly and laughed to himself.

Belladonna stared at him with sunken eyes.

‘Do people know the real side of the Pope they respect so much?’

“I plan to get a huge dowry from that country bumpkin who doesn’t even know how to spend his own money. After you marry him, just last three months in his territory.”

A dowry…? It was money the husband’s family paid the wife’s family, and for the Pope’s daughter, the amount would be enormous.

“After three months, we’ll find an excuse and get you divorced. We’ll take the dowry and even get alimony.”

Belladonna frowned again.

“Three months, then divorce? What is this about?”

The Pope kept talking:

“Don’t you think it’s a waste to send the only Saint of Astanya off as just some man’s wife? The nobles want you. And I need to use you more, too.”

He took another big gulp of wine.

The red liquid spilled from his lips, looking messy and disgusting.

“My informant says don’t worry about the divorce. If he gets angry and hits you, that’s even better. It gives us more reasons.”

“A big dowry and alimony, and people’s sympathy for the poor Saint who was rejected by a bad husband. That will bring the Vatican back to glory!”

The Pope laughed at his own “brilliant” plan.

‘If this isn’t being sold off, what is…?’

Belladonna clenched her fists on her knees.

‘How did the real Saint survive this kind of life…?’