"Tap, tap, tap..."

The heels of Jeanne's boots clicked against the marble stairs as she ascended, dressed in summer attire.

Unlike the Holy Seat Mansion of four years ago, its corridors are now adorned with numerous art paintings.

Especially those from the El period and El Renaissance, given that Horn advocates for the El Renaissance in culture.

Gold-veined frames, vivid colors, delicate brushstrokes, and the depiction of light and shadow perspective.

These artworks were not purchased by Horn; some came from noble war spoils, others from donations by various artists and merchants.

Four years ago, Jeanne could only say "Damn it, so beautiful" and nothing else.

But now, she could feign elegance by commenting, "A feast for the eyes."

After two years of studying in a girls' school and working for a year as captain of the Constitutional Army in Black Snake Bay, Jeanne's cultural level has reached the verge of high school.

Adjusting her hair in the reflection of the mirror surface of a frame, Jeanne flashed what she believed to be a rather charming smile.

Returning to the ry Court Barracks this time, aside from answering Horn's summon, Jeanne had another task she set for herself.

To quickly confirm her engagement with Horn, even if she couldn't stop him from being engaged with several Saintesses, at least she wanted to precede Jia Li.

This matter had been delayed for too long.

Currently, both internal and external crises and disturbances of the Holy Alliance have been temporarily resolved; it's time to address Horn's lifelong affair.

She briskly walked to the Pope's Office entrance, where the Constitutional Army guards saluted her immediately upon sight.

Upon pushing open the door, it was the Secret Office.

Though it's an affiliated office of the Pope's Office, it's still over a hundred square meters.

Piles of files tower like a castle, a desk stained with ink, and monks pacing back and forth, copying and summarizing.

Beside them was a long bench and a reception room meant for meetings.

Given that Saintesses typically have the privilege of "entering without notification, saluting without name, sword and gun entering the premises," Jeanne could directly step in.

However, she halted her steps in the Secret Office because among the crowd of secret monks, there stood a short-haired woman.

Though indiscernible by the naked eye, Jeanne keenly sensed she was a Witch.

Noticing Jeanne's gaze, the woman in monk robes stood up, walked around the table, and extended her hand toward Jeanne.

"Hello, Lady Jeanne. I'm Edwin, the on-duty monk today. May the Lord bless your health."

"Good afternoon, Ms. Edwin." Jeanne sized her up with vigilance and curiosity, "Are you a Miracle Nun?"

"Yes, you must be curious about my name." Edwin smiled, "I'm from the Griffin Horn Frontier. To conceal my identity, my parents raised me as a man."

Jeanne immediately grasped the situation; she was one of those recruited through the Witch Introduction Plan.

After Horn implemented the plan, witches of various kinds were gradually gathered from various places.

Utilizing their spells to aid industrial development and administrative management, while simultaneously studying them.

A large number of well-known wizard scholars on spells migrated to ry Court Barracks, making spell and magic power doctrines again topics that "can't be touched" at Dragon Language Alchemy University.

"Pardon my boldness, what is your miracle skill?"

"Compared to your lightning, my miracle is rather insignificant." Edwin shyly smiled, "Although I'm a flesh-focused witch, I don't have much enhancement for the flesh, but I do have photographic memory."

"Photographic memory, you mean you won't forget anything you've seen?"

Edwin appeared a bit embarrassed, "I can also write with both hands simultaneously, calculating and writing different content. Does that count? Oh, I can read sixteen books at once..."

To leave a good impression on this idol among many witches, she continued adding several points.

Yet she failed to notice Jeanne was nearly shedding tears out of jealousy.

Countless times, she'd battled late into the night just to memorize words and rhetoric, and those abominable Elvin exams.

But she still ended up writing "winter plum" as "red plum" during exams, and had to retake the El language exam.

"Enough, enough." Jeanne clutched her heart, urgently halting Edwin.

Stealing a glance at Edwin's boy-like actions and expressions, Jeanne felt slightly relieved.

Edwin wasn't Horn's preferred type; no threat there.

Her brother favored lively, adorable, youthful women; Edwin didn't measure up — at least, not yet.

Edwin wasn't disheartened; she pointed to Horn's office door, "Would you like me to notify His Eminence?"

"What's my brother doing?"

"He's busy with an important matter. We're instructed not to disturb him unless there are urgent matters," Edwin quickly added, "though you can proceed at will."

Nodding, Jeanne shook Edwin's hand, "We'll chat later. In a few days, feel free to visit me at the Mechanical Palace. Perhaps we can have tea together."

"Okay." Edwin nodded enthusiastically.

Turning away, Jeanne's face bore a fleeting smirk.

Studying history certainly paid off; otherwise, she'd never have learned this trick.

Easily she planted a 'spy' by Horn's side, not needing her to report any top-secret information, just mentioning who, particularly which Witch has met Horn, gives her a significant advantage.

Standing by the mirror, Jeanne again adjusted her clothes and hair, knocking lightly on the door.

Waiting four or five seconds, she pushed the door open slightly and slipped inside sideways.

The afternoon sun lazily draped across a scarlet carpet, upon which rested a massive desk.

The desk was cluttered with all sorts of files and books; behind the mountain of paperwork, there lay a slumbering figure at the desk.

"Brother?"

The figure didn't respond, signaling to Jeanne that he was asleep.

Quietly sneaking closer, this highest leader of the Holy Alliance lay sprawling on the desk like a lazy dog, deeply absorbed in baby-like slumber.

"Brother?"

Horn murmured in his sleep.

Reluctant to wake him, Jeanne knelt and rested her head on the table edge, gazing at Horn's face — both familiar and unfamiliar.

This was her brother, yet not her brother; truly the Saint's Grandson, but also a crying, laughing mortal.

To her wooden brother, there was nothing but familial affection; to this person before her, she couldn't discern nor articulate her feelings.

What irony.

She wished Horn were solely her brother who'd matured, thus she had always cherished him.

Reality, however, proved otherwise.

This is what made her so conflicted over the genuineness of her feelings for Horn, and his for her.

Childish actions she'd done would indeed be a thorn in Horn's heart, wouldn't they?

Is that why the Holy Alliance leader delayed affirming any marital decision?

Whether with her, or with another Witch, he's hesitant?

Jeanne reached out, gently caressing Horn's jaw and ear, with a grin on her lips, though her brow furrowed with a touch of melancholy.

Sighing, she stood up, intending to find a spot to casually sit and await Horn's awakening.

As she rose, her gaze inadvertently flitted over something.

Jeanne's expression suddenly turned serious.