Chapter 222
âWhen choosing someone to remarry, itâs best to be careful. And try not to listen to the advice of those around you. It seems no one has good judgment.â
âThereâs no remarriage in my future.â
While the pope had to remain celibate, the same didnât necessarily apply to a saintess. There had already been plenty of exceptions, so it wasnât entirely impossible. Lloyd tilted his head in curiosity.
But Genevieve replied coldly,
âOnce was enough.â
Once was more than enoughâŚ
The saintessâs wedding had been like a national promotional campaign, an event that spanned several days. She couldnât even imagine going through something like that again. The wedding had been more exhausting than the papal inauguration.
âLove, romanceâsuch foolish nonsense. Who has time for that?â
She was far too busy to even consider remarriage.
As pope, Genevieve was still nothing more than a figurehead. Her support base was weak and relied heavily on the power of the imperial family and the Blanchard ducal house.
She couldnât neglect her duties as a saintess either, which meant spending more than half the year abroad. Her daily life was overwhelmingly busy, and even the small amount of leisure time she spent at the garden gatherings was difficult to carve out. Romance was simply out of the question.
Lloyd remarked,
âIt is foolish nonsense.â
âAnd itâs not exactly good for your health, either.â
Oh, it really wasnâtâŚ
It was badâŚ
It was clear that both Genevieve and Lloyd were thinking of the same person at that moment.
Shaking her head, Genevieve said,
âIf thatâs what love is, then I donât want any part of it. I canât handle it.â
âIt was yours to begin with, though.â
âShut up, please.â
Her tightly clenched fist seemed to say, One more word, and Iâll break your jaw. Lloyd wisely stayed quiet and left the room.
Genevieve scoffed and stared after the boyâs retreating figure for a long time.
She knew it was childish, but she couldnât help herself. That smug, irritating face always got under her skin.
âIâm not really upset.â
Genevieve understood, logically, that Adeline didnât leave her out of hatred.
But when she thought about the time she spent agonizing over her guilt, believing Adeline was dead, she couldnât help but feel jealous of Lloyd, who had been chosen, unlike her.
Adeline would likely say, I didnât abandon you.
Genevieve had come to terms with the fact that Adeline had sacrificed herself for them.
After all, it was a fate someone had already written for her.
âThe protagonist.â
Me?
Who would ever want to look into her life and call it a story worth being the protagonist of? Whoever it was, they must have had a peculiar taste. Even when she reflected on her own life, it brought her nothing but revulsion, not entertainment.
Adeline had said, âYou are the protagonist of this world, so you must find happiness.â
Those words had saved Genevieve countless times.
Even if Adeline had only meant it in the sense of a novelâs protagonist, its meaning never diminished for Genevieve. Adeline had given her more than just words. Those words remained one of Genevieveâs greatest treasures.
If she had to live according to a fate predetermined by someone, she wanted to make herself useful to Adeline.
She didnât believe in the destinies supposedly written by some unknown person who neither knew her name nor her face.
But she believed in the goodwill that had led Adeline to say, âIf everything unfolds as it was written, you will find happiness.â She didnât doubt the sincerity of Adelineâs wish for their happiness, a wish stronger than anyone elseâs.
Still, if happiness without Adeline was the only option, Genevieve would rather be unhappy with her.
At the very least, Genevieve never wanted to return to the days without Adeline.
The dark, damp days.
*
On the day of Adelineâs funeralâ
The sky was unbearably clear.
