The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 1143 Ch.1142 Alice Cordoni's Path to Sainthood
Alice Cordonni had once impressed Roland as a cub shivering in the winter snow. The important thing about a cat or a dog was the 'shivering'—it reminded him of his own childhood.

In fact, Roland had already noticed that Alice was different the last time he saw her.

It’s even worse today.

Perhaps the church had different standards for treating their saintesses. Roland was very disappointed that the extra aura she exuded went against Sandel's—instead resembling that of many ladies who 'seek romance' at perfume shops.

It's hard to imagine that such a temperament would appear in a girl who is not yet thirteen years old.

Graceful.

A description of being perfectly fitted.

Her hunting fur cloak hung on an oak coat rack in the corner of the room. Apart from the gold and purple skirt, similar in color to Gary Kratoff's, each of the diamond-shaped amber crystals around her neck was filled with the most intense sunlight from outside the window.

The golden cloak that brushed against her shoulders shone even brighter.

Yes.

The church had been preparing rooms for their distinguished young lady since the previous year.

When Roland was allowed to enter, Alice was resting her chin on her hand, listlessly fiddling with the milk glass on the table.

It was clear that she wanted to jump off the chair and throw herself into the blind knight's arms.

But today, she is a saint.

“Ahem, you may all leave. I need to speak with Mr. Collins…” The childish, pretentiously mature voice and tone were enough to make one laugh.

Roland did indeed smile.

The two cult members glared at him fiercely.

"...Be careful, barbarian." The tall man whispered to him as he left.

Boom boom.

The door was closed.

Roland immediately opened his arms: "Let me see if the princess has grown taller?"

The girl shyly pursed her lips and turned her head away, no longer willing to be fooled by this man—she was a child before, but now she was an adult.

"Collins...brother...long time no see."

She greeted him softly, her back straightening unconsciously.

Just as her nuns taught her, just as her daily lessons taught her: standard, steady, and restrained.

Like a flower growing in a mold.

There is an absolutely standard, absolutely beautiful, but also boring future.

"I thought you were going to pounce on me."

Roland pursed his lips in disappointment, pulled out a chair, and sat down. He tapped the round table, which was covered with a velvet cushion. The muffled sound melted into white waves, illuminating Alice Cordoni's face—she was much more refined than before, and there was a hint of inexplicable adult sorrow in her eyes.

Children's worries are different from adults' worries.

The former only craves candy, freedom, friends, stories, and curiosity about how his father treats his mother like a horse.

The latter are all sorts of strange things.

“I…I am already a saint, Brother Collins.”

Alice covered her flushed cheeks, and like a swan about to raise its neck to sing, she slightly raised her chin: still behaving like a certain kind of person.

Roland's mood was like ice under the scorching sun.

"A saintly maiden or a virtuous lady is better than a confused princess... but what about her knight? He has nowhere to go..."

Alice couldn't help but laugh, then quickly covered her mouth: "I've grown up, Brother Collins. I've grown up..."

"Yes, you can tell from Mr. Cordoni's attire... He's busy these days announcing his address to his old friends."

Alice smiled slightly. "Father is overjoyed; this is what I should do for him..."

He was quite pleased with himself.

Roland thought for a moment: "I thought you would be unhappy about some things."

"What things?" Alice blinked her big eyes and asked deliberately.

She has really grown up.

“Ms. Megan Cordoni.” Roland didn’t like beating around the bush.

He saw it clearly.

When the name 'Megan' was mentioned, the girl's mood shifted from sunny to cloudy for a moment.

“…I neither object nor agree, Brother Collins.”

Alice lowered her eyes, stirring the milk cup with her silver spoon. "He deserves anything good."

She's grown up now, it's time for her to repay her father. Her mother has been gone for many years, is William Cordoni destined to stay by her side for the rest of his life?

of course not.

Just like the old women said.

Men are creatures that can be 'winter in one moment and scorching in the next,' unlike women.

"My child, if you truly understood, you would realize how pitiful they are—for a mere fraction of a moment, they would deceive, coax, and force themselves to fall in love with a woman… and go to great lengths to make her love them back. What they truly want, I think you saw clearly last night."

That night, Mother Perry took her to a place in the West End known as the 'Garden'.

She saw clearly.

My father was no exception to the custom.

He needed a partner who could settle him down and keep him away from filthy, shameless women—maybe Megan, or whatever the name might be, Alice had no objection.

Maybe a few months ago, she would have been crying and making a scene for weeks.

“I’m fine now, Brother Collins. Very fine.” She seemed to see the worry and unfinished advice in Roland’s eyes. Sometimes, people grow up much faster than you imagine. “Many nannies are with me…no one dares to disrespect me…Brother, I have almost more money than I can ever spend, and I have more dignity than I can ever spend.”

My daily manicure gently brushed against the silk placemat.

"I don't have to live like I used to..."

Roland stared at her for a long time without answering.

She's more like a city girl now.

"only…"

Alice hesitated to speak.

Roland: "A person who only speaks halfway will never grow tall."

Alice: ...

My brother is still the same as always.

He always tried his best to make her laugh—maybe that's why he's always so attractive.

But, Collins, people have to grow up eventually.

No one can live in a happy fantasy forever.

"...I need your help, brother."

Alice lowered her eyes.

"This matter is neither good nor bad. I'm not sure, and I dare not tell the old women... Otherwise, they'll go on and on about how the 'Holy Maiden' should be—perhaps you can give me some advice?"

Roland tilted his head and looked at her: "If we hadn't met today, where would you have sent someone to look for me?"

Alice didn't understand.

Where to?

Of course, it's the courtroom.

"The courtroom, brother. Who doesn't know the courtroom has a new, handsome executor?"

Roland remained silent.

but.

Alice Cordoni…

He missed that interesting girl. She could have been a cook, a pastry chef, a prostitute, a weaver, a novelist, a princess, a beggar—anything dirty, vulgar, noble, or courageous—it didn't matter.

But it must not become so dull and boring.

Knight Gawain stood behind her, quietly holding the hilt of his sword.

His armor gleamed, and his voice was deep and powerful.

But she could never see him again.

"I hope it's something I can do easily...like whistling?"

"Brother!" Alice scolded him.

The girl seeks Roland's help, but not for the kind of ordinary problem Roland envisions—unrelated to the court, the church, or even their respective identities.

Every Londoner knows the holidays when even the poorest person will dress up properly.

Autumn hunt.

(End of this chapter)