It was impossible for her, who grew up in a brothel, to become a saint who would save the world. She was as insignificant as a violet blooming in a field. She was despised because she was a commoner from the red-light district, and she was revered because she was a saint. But here was someone who neither despised nor revered her. His frozen steel stature looked at her with his calm gaze and said. “I won’t help you.” Literally, he didn't help me. But he did everything with me. “I will die in front of you.” Even death. He was a man like a blue flame. She just didn't know if it was fire because the color was cold. Just like that, the knight made violets bloom.