Sounds a bit pitiful.

  Cynthia didn't know what kind of connection this person had with the God of Light, but she knew it was necessary to contact him.

  "Joyce, we're staying here at this lodge tonight."

  Joyce: ???

  He just said nobody wants to live under the same roof with someone like that, miss, where did you hear it?

  "No, Miss Cynthia, we don't live here; I'd rather rough it in the carriage till morning than stay here."

  "Ah, well, let's just stay here tonight then. I'm sure you've brought enough money." Cynthia picked up her glass and took a sip of the murky liquor, the burning sensation from her throat made her shudder and she quickly put the cup down.

  Joyce: ???

  He reluctantly bent down and leaned in close to her delicate little ear, thinking she hadn't heard clearly and raised his voice, "Miss Cynthia, we can't..."

  "We can." Cynthia turned her face aside, a delicate flush rising quickly to her cheeks due to the liquor, she rubbed her ear, her soft voice mixed with grievance, "Joyce, I don't want to live in a carriage, sleeping inside it my legs can't even stretch straight."

  "Miss..."

  "I was already a guilty person, what else can I be cursed with?" Cynthia lowered her head, her beautiful face furrowed slightly, and a hint of sadness flowed out of her eyes unintentionally. "You shouldn't have gotten so close to me either."

  Joyce only felt his heart aching because of the girl in front of him, he hastily stood up, his eyes panicked, "No, I didn't mean it."

  Cynthia raised her head, her misty blue eyes staring unwaveringly at Joyce, "Is that okay?"

  It was as if Cupid had shot Joyce with an arrow of love, and she nodded her head unconsciously.

  Cynthia gave him a faint smile that was enough to make him lose his mind.

  When Joyce came to, she had already untied the purse at his waist and paid the room fee.

  Cynthia paid while chatting with the tavern owner, "Do people with black hair often appear on the border of Rydania?"

  "My goodness, don't say such things again. This is the first time I've encountered this, and I hope there won't be a next time. No matter how much money you give me, I don't want to have anything to do with them." The woman put down the rag in her hand, handed her the wooden sign, and looked at her several times with a hint of disdain.

  "Of course, I don't want to have any involvement with you who betrayed the Radiant God either."

  Cynthia took the wooden sign, pretending not to see that gaze, and chose to bite her lip and lower her eyes when Joyce walked over, saying: "I will forever obey the God of Light, he will clear my name."

  "May God have mercy."

  The girl's unpleasant appearance made the woman somewhat unnatural, although the princess was exiled, but there was no news that the royal family had deprived her of her noble title, she shouldn't be so rude.

  The woman coughed and picked up the rag again, wiping down the counter with an ill-at-ease reply: "May God have mercy."

  "You won't betray the God of Light." Joyce helped her take down the suitcase from the carriage, the man's handsome face full of solemnity. "I believe you can get the protection of the God of Light and come back from the dark land."

  "Even if it's not possible, Your Highness..." Joyce thought of something and stopped herself in time.

  "You were sent by Gegepai."

  Cynthia had guessed early on who Joyce was sent by, and of course Joyce did not deny it.

  She didn't want to continue this dull and unedifying topic of consolation anymore, so she walked into the stable.

  The air was thick with the smell of hay and manure, and Curtis's iron cage was right there.

  Seeing Cynthia dressed in clean clothes like a red rose, his congested eyes bulged out, staring at her with only hatred in his eyes, but he didn't even have the strength to lift his hand.

  Joyce was waiting outside for her, Cynthia lifted her skirt and squatted outside the cage, almond eyes slightly narrowed, mouth corners slightly hooked, "willingly being treated as a stinky old mouse by Minnie, she wouldn't even give you a proper look, poor Curtis, do you regret it?"

  "Ugggh... ugggh!" Curtis tried to speak, but all that came out of his throat were harsh, unpleasant noises. His nasal bone was still crooked and no apothecary had come to treat him yet.

  Cynthia was thrilled by this miserable appearance of his, especially after seeing the extremely reluctant and angry look in his eyes.

  She stretched out her white and slender fingers into the iron cage, her fingertips falling on his throat, her gentle voice was as comfortable as a spring breeze, but what she spat out were words full of malice.

  "Dearest Curtis, if I ever get a chance to return to Riedania, I'll scatter your ashes at the entrance of Mousehole."

  A gloomy and oppressive gaze fell on her in the dark of night, causing Cynthia to shudder involuntarily.

  Progress of Conquering Shining God: 2%

  ？？？

  How did it go up again? What has she done now?!

  Cynthia withdrew her hand and turned around abruptly. Outside, there were only a few escorting knights. At the end of the 2nd floor of the tavern, a faint light was shining, with the curtains blown out of the window by the wind, rustling softly.

  It seems like there's someone over there.

  Is it because of that young man again?

  Cynthia pursed her lips, knowing that she had to figure out this matter as soon as possible, and he might be the breakthrough for her to find the God of Light.

  She didn't bother to mock Curtis, who was covered in horse dung smell, and quickly stood up, elegantly sweeping her light golden long hair behind her ear. She said to Joyce outside: "Joyce, help me carry my luggage upstairs."

  It's also unknown whether the owner of the tavern did it on purpose, but Cynthia's room just happened to be in the second floor's second-to-last room, separated from the injured black-haired youth by only a thin wooden wall.

  This suited her just fine, but Joyce's face had already fallen and he set his suitcase in the corner, saying angrily, "I'll go get her to switch rooms. You can't stay here."

  "It's okay." Cynthia waved her hand, sat down in front of the round table and lit the gas lamp on it. "You just guard below, my divine skills won't let me get into trouble either."

  It wasn't until Joyce mentioned her divine magic that she remembered that Princess Cynthia, who was capable of taking on the role of a saint, had an extraordinary amount of faith power that ordinary people didn't possess, and naturally, her divine magic wasn't ordinary either.

  He suppressed his anger and saw the fatigue between her eyebrows, so he could only say: "Then I'll stay downstairs with the knights."

  "Alright."

  As soon as the door was closed, Cynthia let out a long sigh and rubbed her face, her eyes rolling and stopping on the wooden wall.

  As Joyce's footsteps faded away, the night was left with only the neighing of horses.

  Cynthia's fingers tapped lightly on the table, her ears perked up for a while, but there was no unusual sound coming from the other side of the poorly insulated wooden wall.

  She couldn't help but think, had she fainted from excessive blood loss? Looking at him who just came in with a bent waist, his injury seemed to be very serious.