For a princess who grew up in a greenhouse from childhood, the effort and sacrifice required to become a great leader who suppresses corrupt nobles with an iron fist and ensures the people live in peace and prosperity are unimaginable.
Loren remembered that when they were young, Alice had secretly told him that those wicked nobles wanted to bully her aunt right after she took office, making things difficult for her every day.
Although her aunt pretended not to care, many times Alice saw her crying quietly alone in the study.
Thinking about this, Loren’s respect for His Holiness the Pope grew even more.
“I’m truly sorry, Your Holiness!”
Loren suddenly bowed deeply, his voice filled with sincerity and guilt. “I’m an absolute brain-dead idiot! To think I used to say such things about you—I really—”
“Ohhh~”
Before he could finish, a pair of warm arms caught his shoulders. Then, before Loren could react, he was pulled into a soft, gentle embrace. He felt enveloped by the fragrance of holy flowers as Ailin’s slender hand patted his back, just like when he was a child, comforting him.
“There, there.”
Ailin’s gentle voice sounded in his ear. “It’s nothing. If Flora saw you like this, she’d think I was bullying you. Would your Sister Ailin really hold a grudge against a little kid like you?”
If the nobles were to see this scene, they would probably be shocked—jaw dropped to the floor—
That iron-fisted Pope who suppressed corrupt nobles with ruthless tactics, making everyone tremble in fear, was now gently patting a young boy’s back like a kind neighbor, soothing him with soft words.
After a moment, Ailin released him, her gentle, watery eyes fixed on him as she continued warmly, “Actually, I never blamed you, you know.”
As she spoke, a nostalgic look appeared in her eyes, and she let out a light laugh.
“Back then, I was so busy with work that I neglected little Alice. Then one day, a certain little idiot—right where we’re standing now—pointed at my nose like a little fool, called me an ‘old hag,’ and demanded to know why I made Alice cry every day.”
She mimicked the boy’s tone from back then, perfectly copying his righteous indignation: “ ‘That kid pretends to be strong every day so I won’t worry! Don’t you realize that!’ ”
Loren’s face turned bright red on the spot.
He scratched his head and chuckled sheepishly. “I didn’t know I used to be so cool back then…”
“Yes, yes you were!”
Ailin nodded with a smile, her gentle eyes full of relief. “So when Alice told me the other day that you had not only returned to the right path but also exposed the cultists’ conspiracy in public, I was really happy.”
She reached out again and gently patted Loren’s shoulder. “Sister Ailin is proud of you.”
Hearing the Pope’s unsparing praise, Loren scratched his head awkwardly, unable to suppress the grin spreading across his face. “Hehehe, I’m really not that amazing, Your Holiness…”
Just as Loren’s face was flushed and he was completely relaxed, feeling a bit buoyed by her compliments…
“Alright.”
Suddenly, the Pope’s expression turned serious, all traces of warmth gone, her voice returning to its original solemnity and coolness. “Business is over. Now we need to talk about personal matters~”
Eh, watching the Pope’s mood shift from clear to cloudy, Loren’s smile froze on his face, and he stammered.
“You made little Alice sad, didn’t you?”
Ailin’s eyes narrowed slightly, a terrifyingly benevolent smile on her face as she stared at Loren with oppressive intensity. “For that irrelevant person?”
His Holiness suddenly leaned in, and the next second, her foot, clad in a silver-white high heel, ruthlessly stomped down on Loren’s foot.
Hiss!
Loren gasped, nearly jumping up in pain.
Yet Ailin’s face still held that kind smile, her voice as gentle as if she hadn’t just stepped on him.
“Well, one thing at a time. Little Loren, your sincere repentance is a good thing~”
As she spoke, her dainty foot twisted slightly on the top of his foot, then slowly pressed down with just the right amount of force, making Loren wince in pain.
“But—it’s also a fact that you made my little Alice cry because of you, isn’t it?”
Ailin tilted her head, her gentle eyes now filled with dangerous signals. “What do you think—should Sister Ailin punish you, her big idiot childhood friend, on little Alice’s behalf?”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It’s my fault, Your Holiness!”
The manly Loren was in so much pain his tears almost came out, repeatedly begging for mercy.
But Ailin grabbed him and stomped even harder, her tone laced with a hint of reproach. “How many times do I have to tell you—when we’re in private, call me Sister Ailin.”
“Sister Ailin, I’m sorry!”
“Little brat, why aren’t you calling me ‘wicked stepmother’ now, huh?”
Ailin pulled Loren into a hug and pinched the soft flesh around his waist hard. Loren hissed through his teeth, begging for mercy.
“Oww~ Sister Ailin, didn’t you say you weren’t angry?”
“Sister isn’t angry. Sister is just properly correcting this bad guy who bullied my daughter~”
Just as the situation was escalating, fortunately, Martha interrupted Ailin’s “punishment.”
“Your Holiness, the Saintess is already waiting in the side hall and wishes to see you!”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. This Saintess sure has poor timing. I was handling family matters!” Seeing her fun interrupted, the Pope was a bit annoyed.
“Though punishing Little Loren makes Sister Ailin very happy, official business is more important after all!”
Ailin reluctantly lifted her slender foot from Loren’s, looking like she wanted to continue.
‘Saintess, you really saved my life. Your timing couldn’t be better. Sister Ailin, you’re actually such a sadist, getting more excited the more you step?’
‘Who would have thought that the usually dignified and majestic Pope…’
‘…was actually a sadist. I could really feel her getting more excited with each step. Later, she almost wanted to take off her high heels, pull me into her generous bosom, and trample me mercilessly. Scary, so scary. By Sierra, I hope Alice never learns from her aunt. But speaking of traits, Loren suddenly remembered a certain heroine’s strange expression that day, and he was startled by his own wild thoughts. No way!’
“Sorry about that little brat.”
Then aloud: “Martha, take Little Loren to the magic tower and pick out a few spells that suit this kid! Otherwise, he’ll go complain to little Alice and say I, his stepmother, am stingy.”
The solemn Pope spread her hands, then walked away with a dignified stride while sighing. “A grown daughter is no longer yours to keep—her elbows are all turned outward!”