This is ridiculous.
“That crazy idiot… She must have done something strange.”
However, no matter how many times he said no, the reality of Deborah's skyrocketing popularity did not change, and he kept chewing on the lost reality. Originally, he might have been sitting next to the saintess.
“Because Deborah liked me a lot.”
The praise of the Imperial people pouring down on Isidore must have been my share.
Obviously, if I had the chance, I could have done better than him.
“You used to like me…”
Every time I drank, the resentment deepened as if I felt I had missed everything I had and was taken away in an instant.
He even gritted his teeth saying that he would get the saintess back from Isidore once the probation was lifted. However, that delusion was shattered by the news of Deborah's marriage. Marriage can’t be undone.
He gulped down the poisoned wine in a deep rage. Suddenly, he laughed lightly, then slammed the table with a fiery rage as if to break it.
“Deborah Seymour! Dirty and dirty bitch! As soon as a rich guy shows up, you wash your mouth and throw me away?”
When Philaf let out a shout, the group of mercenaries sitting next to him stood up in a brave manner. It happened in an instant, without the clerk even having time to stop it.
“Hey, red hair! Are you done talking?”
“What kind of habit are you talking about to the saintess? Those words are blasphemy!”
“The saintess is not the kind of person trash like you can talk about carelessly… Keugh...!”
"Oh, my God! W-what is that!"
The mercenaries were horrified to see the fire spirit suddenly appearing in the air, and the man caught by Philaf swallowed dry saliva in the terrible heat of the spirit.
“Do you still think of me as a piece of trash worth talking about?”
“Well, spirit man...!”
“There’s something you guys don’t know, so I’ll tell you personally. That amazing Saint Deborah is actually a very persistent stalker.”
“Ouch!”
Philaf squeezed the man’s collar harder and continued as if chewing.
“She has been following me around for so long since before. She even followed me to a party that's being held far away and begged me to dance just once, to the point of giving me goosebumps. The saint you're all proud of is actually dying because she fell in love with me! Do you know!?”
It was a fact that everyone in the bar knew that Princess Deborah had a grand wedding with the Duke of Visconti.
And the man with the glaring eyes on his face was obviously a madman suffering from a delusional disease.
“She was originally mine!”
But because of the spirit summoned by that madman, no one dared to open their mouth.
“Yes, she loved me for a very, very long time. Visconti, though she was taken away by that foxy bastard.”
No, it's not stolen. Things that were stolen could be found again, but marriage? The anger flared up.
