Chapter 565: No More Than A Puppet (III)
Without another word, the Grand Duke knelt on the rug and bowed his head.
The Saintess stepped behind him, gripping the whip with both hands.
Crack!
The loud sound echoed through the room.
Primrose flinched, thinking that the Saintess had just whipped the Grand Duke. But a second later, she realized the whip had never touched him. Instead, it struck the Saintess across her own back.
A thin line of blood instantly soaked into the white fabric of her robe.
Primrose’s eyes widened in horror because she had never expected the Saintess to whip herself like this.
Although the Saintess didn’t show even the slightest change in her expression, Primrose could still feel the burning pain spreading across her back.
It was so painful that she wanted to cry, but she couldn’t.
In the end, she wasn’t in control of this body, so she could only watch and endure every pain.
The pain tortured her so much, especially since she had never experienced violence like this before. Even when her father was angry, the most he had ever done was give her a light smack.
Meanwhile, the Grand Duke slowly closed his eyes and let out a long, relieved breath.
"May my sins be washed away," he murmured.
As he began his confession, the Saintess raised the whip once again and struck her own back.
Her body trembled from the pain, but she didn’t make a sound.
Not long afterward, a warm golden light began to spread across the wound, healing the torn flesh as though nothing had happened.
At that moment, Primrose finally understood that the Saintess possessed a healing ability. A gift that everyone believed had been given to her by the Gods.
Because of that blessing, people believed she should use her own body to bear pain in place of sinners, as if her suffering could wash away their sins.
However, only high-ranking nobles were allowed to receive a private cleansing from the Saintess.
It was treated like an exclusive privilege, as though her pain was a luxury that only people of their status deserved.
For the Saintess to accept such a cruel duty without even resisting, the Cardinal must have indoctrinated her mind over and over again since she was young.
Or perhaps, he had already broken every piece of her spirit until she no longer believed her life belonged to herself.
Until the only purpose she could see was to become a puppet for the so-called Gods.
Her hope had probably been shattered the day the Cardinal beheaded Zarius in front of her and taught her that if she ever tried to resist or run away, others would have to pay for her sins.
Not long after, The Grand Duke finished his confession with a long sigh, as though a heavy weight had finally been lifted from his shoulders.
The Saintess slowly lowered the whip. "If that is all, Your Grace—"
"No." He slowly stood up and smiled at her. "You still remember the final step, don’t you?"
A chill ran down Primrose’s spine the moment she heard those words. But the Saintess didn’t try to run away.
She simply lowered her head. "I remember."
The Grand Duke walked toward the Saintess and gently took the whip from her hands, almost as if he were accepting a precious gift.
"You carry the sins of others so willingly, Your Holiness," he said with a warm smile. "But true cleansing requires sincere repentance from both sides."
The Saintess lowered her gaze. "I understand."
"The pain you bear must be witnessed," the Grand Duke continued calmly. "Otherwise, how can I truly remember the price of my sins? If I strike you with my own hands, I will never forget the suffering my sins have caused."
His tone sounded peaceful, almost comforting. Yet every word made Primrose feel sick to her stomach.
"And to complete the ritual," the Grand Duke continued in the same gentle tone, "the whip must touch your skin directly. Cloth weakens the punishment. It would lessen the reminder of my sins."
Primrose swallowed hard inwardly. She didn’t want to witness this fragment of memories anymore. She didn’t want to feel the pain anymore. And she didn’t want to be here anymore.
She wanted to run away, but her body tidak mungkin mengikuti keinginannya. Bahkan when the Saintess willingly untied the ribbon at the back of her robe, the only thing yang bisa Primrose lakukan adalah screamed inwardly.
"Stop it. Stop it! What are you doing?!"
The Saintess knelt on the floor with her head lowered as the Grand Duke whipped her back over and over again.
She never cried out. She never begged him to stop. And not even a single tear fell from her eyes.
But Primrose, trapped inside her memories, had long since broken down in tears. It felt as though every strike was landing on her own heart.
But after a long while, Primrose realized that the Saintess was crying too, but she just couldn’t show it.
After all, tears couldn’t change anything.
She was also terrified, but she chose to keep all of those feelings buried inside because no matter how loudly she screamed, no one would ever reach out to save her.
And no matter how badly she wanted to run away from this Temple, the Cardinal would always be able to bring her back.
In the end, she was nothing more than a beautiful bird locked inside a golden cage.
She had everything anyone could ask for; fine clothes, warm meals, and a place where she would never have to worry about hunger.
But the price she had paid for that life was far too great. She had to give her freedom, her dignity, and even her will to live.
The sound of the whip echoed loudly through the room, but since the Cardinal had surrounded the entire room with magic, no one outside could hear what was happening inside, not even Edmund, who was standing right in front of the door.
By the time the confession finally ended, the room had fallen completely silent.
A few moments later, several temple maidens quietly entered, carrying bowls of warm water, clean cloths, and a fresh set of white robes, as if this had become nothing more than another ordinary part of their daily routine.
Watching the scene unfold, Edmund furrowed his brows and asked, "What happened? Why are you bringing all these things? Is something wrong with the Saintess?"
One of the temple maidens calmly pushed him back before he could step into the room.
"This is simply a procedure we must follow after the Saintess completes a private confession," she said in a calm voice. "It’s a symbol that she has taken the sinner’s pain upon herself and cleansed their soul. That’s why we have to burn all the clothes she was wearing beforehand."