ã€ŠThe Saintess&#x27; Revengeã€‹


 Chapter One: Death to Life

    I think¡­ I blanked out for a moment. Where am I? I¡­

    My body feels slack, drained of energy. It¡¯s almost as if I cannot properly control my divinity anymore. The air feels stuffy, and the ground I lay on hard and cold, yet comforting.

    ¡°Mayari!¡±

    Ah. That¡¯s right. I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m dying. In an attempt to laugh at my foolish state, all that sputters out is a croak and blood. It¡¯s spilling out now, and I can feel the heat of my blood pooling from the hole in the middle of my ribs. My divinity isn¡¯t healing it, meaning¡­

    ¡­ this is how it ends.

    ¡°Mayari, May¡­¡±

    The sound of clinking and scraping of metal approaching, and the coldness of thick fabric gloves lined with metal carefully slides under my neck. So cautious, as if handling glass that could break if any wrong move is taken. It doesn¡¯t take much effort, just the vague movement of the eyes in front of me to catch a glimpse of that familiar helmet that completely covers their face.

    ¡°So that¡¯s¡­ your voice, huh?¡± Their body stiffens a bit, and I can see them swallow something down their throat.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ not, important! Shit, there¡ªthere¡¯s so much blood¡­!¡±

    Their speech stutters vaguely, and is so quiet with a low raspiness and does not lean to either femininity or masculinity. Everything I knew about them was an enigma, but that¡¯s also a part of them that I love, isn¡¯t it?

    The weight of time begins to dawn on me, finally, my eyes stinging as it becomes harder to even breathe. I can feel my throat fill with bitter iron, lurching forward just to cough it up. My insides coat my mouth and fall down the corners of my lips with a scorching heat. I can¡¯t even lift a finger anymore, it seems. With the life I¡¯ve lived, when I left for this journey, the only thought I had was that I wanted to die. But now, laying here with only seconds left to spare, I find myself clinging to the little life I have left.

    My eyes lift to that shadowy slit between the helmet they wear just so I can just barely meet with their sun kissed eyes that shine through the darkness. It takes every bit of energy I have just to attempt to lift my hand, searching for something. Quickly, they catch it and grip around it softly. For a moment, I think back to that fantasy of those free and endless fields full of their people¡¯s laughter, and a place where the sun is always shining.

    I wanted to live that future with you.

    ¡°Shivani, I¡­¡± My voice is caught up in my throat, mixed with blood and saliva. I find myself hiccuping through the heat that falls down my cheeks. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Shivani. I don¡¯t think we can¡­ live together, anymore.¡±

    Their grip around my hand tightens slightly, trembling.

    ¡°Don¡¯t speak, speak like that-t¡­!¡± Their tone is desperate, a deep and mellow mix of anger and utter despair that pierces through. Every word that leaves their mouth is barely audible, muffled, but filled with such agonizing emotions that it brings tears to my stinging eyes. My vision blurs and I can feel the coldness consume my body. A high pitched sound begins to ring in my ears as the world slowly drowns away. Through the silence, Shivani¡¯s voice continues with stutters, though I cannot make them out any longer.

    ¡°¡­ Sorry, what¡­ was that¡­? I couldn¡¯t hear¡­ your voice¡­ clear¡­¡±

    The sun dies, and I¡¯m drowning in darkness once again.

    ????

    [¡­ ari¡­]

    In the bubbles of my subconsciousness, there is a familiar yet indescribable voice that begins to echo throughout the muffled world around me. A voice I have both heard my whole life, like a comforting whisper of warmth, yet a voice that has also never once braced my ears. How do you describe a voice that feels like the sun¡¯s rays of light, all powerful and condemning, yet can do nothing but watch as we pitiful humans destroy each other? And yet, it¡¯s unlike a voice at all. No, more like thoughts that easily flow into my mind. A force that feels akin to an internal monologue, yet doesn''t sound like myself at all.

    [Mayari, my dear child.]

    Ah. It¡¯s someone¡ªor rather, something I know well, yet not at all. The voice that repeatedly bid me earnest and sorrowful apologies during the nights when Father would lay his hands on me leaving scars and bruises in his wake. Even when revealed as the Saintess, it only changed Father¡¯s tactics to harm me in ways where those injuries could not appear to the common eye, but in the psyche. And yet, not in any of those years did I blame you, no matter how much you may have wished. After all, this despair and hate are because of what we humans do to each other¡ªthe humanity you chose to leave behind for the sake of your absolute divinity of godhood.

    [Mayari, my dear. My dear child.]

    Continuously, that voice echoes in my mind.

    [It is time for you to awaken.]

    Awaken¡­? It¡¯s comfortable here, in this fluid state of nothingness. Where no one can hurt me, no one can find me, and I can¡¯t find anyone. And yet, it¡¯s so dark. It¡¯s as if I¡¯m at the bottom of a bottomless sea, plunged into and floating in that endless darkness. Who knows how long I¡¯ve been here, in this safe yet lonely place.

    Ah. I want to see you. You, who I long to be with.

    That being, though they have no figure that can be seen, feels as though they have smiled. There is a bright light that begins to peak beyond my closed eyelids, and that feeling of being surrounded by water begins to rush backwards.

    [Open your eyes.]

    The coldness of air hits me as I gasp, the familiar light of the sun beaming onto me as the heavy droplets of water fall off my shape. I inhale a soft breath of oxygen, squinting my eyes as they adjust to the light. It¡¯s difficult to grasp my surroundings, and my body is numb yet being overwhelmed with everything. The wet shuffling of drenched cloth is close, and there is the warmth of another¡¯s breath near me. There¡¯s the slight roughness of someone¡¯s palms grasping my shoulder, as well as arms supporting my back and legs.

    [Open your eyes, and continue onwards to find¡­]

    Gold sun-like irises meet my gaze as water droplets fall from the small separated strands of the man¡¯s similar golden hair. They¡¯re deep, and filled with worry and concern as his eyebrows furrow. What long eyelashes, eyelashes that shadow over my reflection inside those flickering golden narrowed eyes.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡±

    [¡­ Your Sun.]

    That deity¡¯s voice dissipates and their direct presence seems to fade away. I still feel as if I¡¯m in a daze, almost like a dream and I haven¡¯t yet grasped the reality I am in. My mouth parts, but nothing particularly comes out in response to the stranger¡¯s question.

    ¡°Your Highness!¡±

    The splashing of water comes closer and an unhelmeted knight clad in metal shoulder pads over a fabric uniform approaches quickly. The vague thought of ¡®if this were the battlefield, you would have died with that armor¡¯ crosses my mind but it quickly goes away once I find the strength to actually look at my surroundings. A knight?

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    My eyes look past the knight and to the world beyond. It appears I¡ªor we¡ªstood in the middle of the shallow end of a lake. There is a large crowd that begins to form at a cute bridge nearby. As my vision steadies, many women in heavy and pretty dresses decorated in lace and frills stand with parasols alongside men with neat suits. I think little of it, aside from the vague confusion that subtly swirls in my head.

    ¡°Your Highness, what were you¡ªhow did you pass¡ªno, break the barri¡ªwho is this girl?¡± The knight has darker neatly styled hair and a scar on his lip. Otherwise, his skin looks unblemished and full of color, as well as the palms of his hands that he holds out are unscathed and scarless aside from a few visible calluses. What a privileged life you¡¯ve lived.

    ¡°None of that matters now, call for the Imperial Physician and some maids to tend to her.¡± My gaze flickers to the golden haired man who was carrying me just now as he carefully transfers my care to the dark haired knight.

    ¡°W¡­ Will do, Your Highness!¡± With great effort, the knight carries me unsurely while treading through the water. He calls out loudly to other knights, some servants in clean and high quality uniforms and dresses approach, but it hardly registers in my mind. It¡¯s as if a deep fog was still weighing over me and I just couldn¡¯t fully grasp anything that was going around me. We enter the estate, and I find myself gazing out the window as the knight carries me through the staircases and long hallways. By the time I take notice, we¡¯re already various floors high and I¡¯m given a general view of the scenery outside. There is little to see, one of which being a partial view of an extremely large and spacious courtyard. Beyond that, I could spot the silhouettes of roofs as far as the eye could see without the slightest of distant forest greenery or mountain range. Yet, what I caught sight of the most of the outside was the broad view of other towers and walls connected to the estate building we had entered. A strange unease began to brew inside me along with my growing confusion. The fog in my mind gradually began to dissipate as this unease continued to grow. It weighed in the back of my mind as my awareness grew, but momentarily pushed it to the back as the knight brought me into a spare room with a handful of female servants.

    They appear busy, confused and panicked while carrying various towels and random articles of clothing. I lightly tugged on the knight¡¯s uniform to let me down, sliding out of his grasp with ease. The drenched fabric sticks to my skin uncomfortably with even the smallest movement. With the slightest stumble, I straighten onto my feet as the maids glance at each other unsurely as to how to approach.

    ¡°Um¡­ excuse me, my Lady, but to dry you thoroughly we will have to invade your personal space¡­¡±

    The maid tries her best to speak in the most polite and formal way possible while holding a large towel. I glance at the drying cloth, lightly curling my fingers and focusing on the temperate energy coiling inside me. After a moment, I merely shake my head softly in response.

    ¡°Drying me won¡¯t be necessary.¡±

    Slowly, I bring my curled fingers in front of me, unfurling them as I breathe out slowly. A cooling sensation, like rain, spreads out from my core as it releases a light breeze that wisps around my figure. The wave of air becomes more intense, flowing through the folds of my divine garment and between every strand of my hair collecting any moisture left behind. My eye twitches as I feel a great imbalance in the flow of divinity I possess¡ªnot a bad imbalance, but rather an abnormal warm surge of energy that grows and becomes more apparent the more I use it. It beats within me like its own pulse, melding together with the cool wash of my usual divinity. I take a quiet moment to analyze the sudden yet easily flowing rush of divine energy.

    My Divinity has grown stronger since last I used it¡ªnearly twice as much.

    That thought pauses me for a moment as I slow the drying wind. Last I used it? The last time I used my divinity was¡­

    The fog quickly fades in on itself as I finally recall everything that had happened. Unconsciously, my hands fall onto the place between my ribs with dark faded patches of dried bloodstains, completely covering the front of my white battle dress just beneath my chest. I press my fingertips, feeling around my midsection to find no pain nor a gaping hole left behind. Blood rushes to my head and I can feel my flesh heat up as panic fills my mind and body. Flinching, I turn my head toward the tall windows that fill the room and immediately make way to them paying no mind to the confused maids taken by surprise at my sudden actions. The low heels of my combat boots click against the eerily smooth and polished surface of the floor. As I press my fingertips against the shined and clear glass, I peer down at the world beneath. Everything strange I had observed in the numerous passing moments of my awakening flood my mind all at once like a broken river barricade. The unusually large estate building too large to belong to a lesser lord, the knights with little field experience clad in armor not meant to defend themselves from fatality, the civilians wearing lavish and much too clean clothing with more gemstones than there are worn wrinkles¡ª

    This is no battlefield, nor a forest clearing. This is a palace. This is the Ouranos Kingdom¡¯s Imperial Palace.

    But things are different¡ªlittle things, but I cannot place what. I¡¯ve only ever been to the palace once in my nearly two decades of life, but things are different. It¡¯s hardly noticeable, but I can feel the uncomfortable feeling grow. As I watch the unfamiliar landscape below, my knees tremble and begin to give way before I am caught by the knight.

    ¡°My Lady, please don¡¯t strain yourself or else His Highness¡­¡±

    A thousand things overwhelm my mind as he guides me back to the sofa. He turns to dismiss the maids and utters a few words to me but my ability to comprehend them has evaded me completely. My head begins to ache with a steady pain, like a low hum. The knight closes the door behind him leaving me alone in that empty yet somewhat luxurious and shining room. The sunlight peers through the various windows, glittering among the reflective marble.

    My moment alone is interrupted quickly as footsteps approach the door. It creaks open and I catch sight of golden locks before I stand up immediately.

    ¡°Oh, there¡¯s no need to stand!¡±

    I turn to look at him as his hand raises softly. His blonde hair is no longer wet, dried so efficiently it¡¯s almost fluffy. He must have his own private priest that helped dry him, as his hair is nearly as long as mine. The man had changed into different clothes, more modest compared to what he had worn before now with a simple white blouse and matching dark pants and gloves.

    ¡­ No golden eyes? Perhaps it was a trick of the light, back then. The sun beamed irises were in reality a warm green, such as the fragile fields of lush greenery just rid of their morning dew.

    His surprised expression shifts into a sheepish smile.

    ¡°Please, rest as long as you need, Your Holiness.¡±

    I smile politely as my body instinctively stiffens. He¡¯s aware of my identity, it seems. Figures¡ªif what that knight calls him is his true title¡ªit¡¯s natural for the Imperial Prince to be aware of the Temple¡¯s main idols.

    ¡°¡­ No, I think I¡¯m fine. Thank you.¡±

    At the reminder of my current state of being, my body begins to tremble once again, blood running cold at being brought back to this god forsaken place. What is this? Just what am I even doing here, and how? If this place truly is the Ouranos Imperial Palace, then that means I¡¯m at the very least still in the Ouranos Kingdom¡¯s lands. But then, why? Back then when we were fighting Corruption¡¯s Budding Vessel¡­

    ¡­ I died from that attack, didn¡¯t I?

    My heart begins to beat rapidly as I dig my fingernails into the fabric creases of my detached sleeves.

    No¡ªmore importantly¡ªwhat happened to everyone? Did they survive?

    The memory of that person clad in armor hovered over my dying body, and how they called my name for the first and final time.

    Mayari!

    ¡°Your Holiness¡ª¡° An abrupt hand upon my shoulder shocks me, a sharp gasp erupting from my throat as I¡¯m forced to meet the man¡¯s gaze. ¡°¡ªare you alright?¡±

    His green eyes are softly narrowed, clouded in a genuine worry and concern as his eyebrows furrow with parted lips searching for some response. There is warmth. A familiar warmth of divinity, divinity that intertwines easily with my own. It¡¯s reminiscent of the sun, sunlight that doesn¡¯t burn and flows smoothly with the fluid coolness of my own divinity; a very calm, tranquil warmth.

    This feeling¡­?

    My thoughts are interrupted as the man retracts his hand from my shoulder, a deep red blush staining the entirety of his face that dusts from the expanse of his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He makes a sputtering sound as he takes a few clumsy steps backwards, almost stumbling over himself. His eyes tremble as he flusters, and you could practically see the steam that emits from his ears in heart beating shame.

    And just like that, the feeling is gone.

    ¡°Oh¡ªgod¡ªDivine Surya¡ªwhat have I done?¡± He¡¯s muttering quickly to himself as he hides his face in embarrassment. The prince¡¯s green eyes dart back and forth wearily. It¡¯s almost cute, like a bunny. I can barely make out his panicked stammering. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, please¡ªplease excuse my disrespectful behavior, Your Holiness¡­!¡±

    Disrespectful behavior? I glance over to my shoulder where his hand once was and can¡¯t help but stifle out a laugh. Royalty and their strange ways.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± I smile reassuringly, more at ease than before. ¡°If anything, I should be apologizing for inconveniencing¡ª¡°

    ¡°Your Highness!¡±

    A different kind of servant bursts through the door without warning. It¡¯s another man, but unlike the male servants by the lake or the knight, he wears a different uniform. There¡¯s a deep red pattern in the fabric, over his shoulders a short black capelet adorned with gold lined shoulder pads. To his side is a sword that he grips securely with his offhand. The golden haired prince turns to him with a hidden expression as the servant approaches closer. He¡¯s breathing heavily, as if he had just ran as fast as he could before anyone else could reach here.

    ¡°I¡ªI apologize for interrupting you unannounced, but¡­!¡±

    For a moment, I thought the man¡¯s eyes darted to mine before returning to the prince.

    ¡°His Holiness, the Pope, is here and demands permission of entry to this room!¡±

    My blood runs cold instantly and I feel my body freeze, drowning out what else the man has to say as a child¡¯s trembling voice begins to echo in the back of my mind. No. No, I¡ªI never wanted to come back here! Not here, not¡ªnot back to that place, with that man¡­!

    ¡°It hurts¡­!¡± A small, young voice wailed. ¡°I¡¯m sorry Father, I¡ªI promise to be quiet from now on, so¡­!¡±

    I remembered it vividly, being dragged against the much too pristine floor of an empty chamber.

    ¡°Father I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m sorry so please sto¡ª!¡±

    ¡°Never call me those disgusting words ever again.¡±

    Cold, instantaneous and unflinching words without the slightest ounce of warmth. Those icy, unforgiving eyes that looked just like mine but an arctic blue. A firm, torturous grip around my small wrists, nearly pulling my arm out of its socket without a care for my incessant crying and begging, digging blunt nails into my flesh.

    And the lights. Dear Surya, the electric blue lights that defiled god¡¯s divinity and shot into my veins, carving root-like burns onto my skin.

    ¡°Remember your worthless place, Sewer Rat.¡±

    I wanted them to be wrong about you.

    ¡°You will refer to me as ¡®Your Holiness¡¯ the Pope, and nothing else!¡±

    I wanted so, so bad for you to be a person I could happily call ¡®father¡¯.

    ¡°You¡­ are nothing to me.¡±

    ¡°Entering¡ª¡°

    I snap my head up towards the opening doors, taking a wobbly step back.

    ¡°¡ªHis Holiness, the Pope Selinas Ka Surya!¡±

 Chapter Two: Liar

    After I set off for that journey against Corruption, I swore it to myself¡ªthat I would never return or see that man again. That¡¯s why I had never once imagined what I would do if I had encountered him once more. So when that man walked through the door¡ªa man with loosely tied and faded brown hair with almost aimless purple eyes¡ªthe first thing I felt was a great confusion.

    That¡­ isn¡¯t Father.

    He bowed lightly, hands neatly folded in front of him in a proper, clean manner in front of the prince. Father never bowed toward anyone, even when he and the King shared the same level of status. Yet, those were definitely the pope¡¯s robes, as well as the long strip of golden embroidered fabric that laid upon his shoulders and clothed arms. Moreover, he entered with two paladins by his side, definitely higher ranked given their uniforms. So then¡­ why is it not Father wearing the pope¡¯s clothing?

    ¡°Please, forgive our intrusion, Your Highness.¡± His voice was soft and benevolent, foreign to me entirely. It was completely different from Father¡¯s, a tone that always demanded respect and authority. The only times when Father had a different voice was when in public or speaking to the priests and paladins who held potential, but even then his public displays of charity were nothing but an act upon lies for his own benefit. I couldn¡¯t tell at all from this man, whether he was genuine or performing just the same.

    ¡°There will be no offense taken so please be at ease, Your Holiness.¡± It was alien to me. The golden haired prince and the man continued to exchange the required pleasantries with the proper amount of respect for their status without a sense of closeness nor enmity. There was always animosity between Father and the King, moreso on Father¡¯s part. I observed vaguely while sorting through my thoughts.

    Could it be that Father was replaced? I had been away from the temple for so long after all, so there was definitely the possibility. My fingers dug into the fabric of my dress as I felt myself stiffen. Yes. It¡¯s been four years, nearly five, since then.

    Like a pig to the slaughter¡­ sold off to save the kingdom the day I turned fourteen.

    The man in the pope¡¯s robes turned to me, and I couldn¡¯t stop myself from flinching instinctively. The paladins beside him kneeled in unison, hands to their side or resting on their knee as the older man bowed respectfully with closed eyes and a slight smile.

    ¡°I greet Her Holiness, Daughter of Surya, the Saintess Mayari.¡±

    As he rose to straighten his posture, he opened his eyes. Flashes of cold, arctic blue overlapped with purple forced me to tear my gaze away, averting my eyes like a child. Even if it¡¯s someone different, I just¡­

    ¡°... You needn¡¯t be so polite with me.¡±

    I can¡¯t separate him and Father.

    As I slowly returned my gaze, me and the paladin to his left met each others¡¯ eyes. It was a young man of tanned skin and blonde hair, who stared silently for a moment before offering a polite smile. Despite the seemingly warm friendliness, I couldn¡¯t help but stiffen. It was a familiar welcoming smile I had seen numerous times in the temple. Back when I had only been brought in recently, I had tried to play with the other children in the temple the same way I did with the children in the alleys.

    The temple children, too, had smiled in a friendly and welcoming manner before giggling away after dumping cold buckets of dirty cleaning water on my head.

    No. Everyone in the temple is the same. When the day came and I was revealed to be the Daughter of Surya, everyone who had mistreated me had suddenly changed their behavior to placate me with falsities. The only one who was different in those days was the blue haired boy under my Father¡¯s wing, who had treated me like any other. Nothing changed between us when I was revealed to be the Saintess. He was like an older brother to me, Kaspar, who was so skilled in divinity that even Father thought he was the fated knight of the sun.

    But then, on that day¡­ the day I was to go on my journey, the King had suddenly introduced you. My sun, my Shivani. Weariness began to weigh in my heart. Oh, Shivani, where are you?

    ¡°Why, of course I do,¡± the supposed pope started to say. ¡°Naturally, we would be regarded as equals status-wise.¡±

    He drifted off with an almost jolly gaze. Despite the strange and unfocused air they gave, they stared right at me to my core. Uncomfortably, I cast my eyes downward just to avoid them. It was as if I was being watched in a manner where no matter what I did or where I went, I would never be able to hide. ¡°However, it is only natural to first respectfully greet and retrieve the Saintess¡­¡±

    ¡°... for whom we¡¯ve all waited for a thousand years.¡±

    ¡°...¡± Time seemed to hiccup for just a second, the freezing stillness in my composure I tried to keep faltering in an instant as his words weighed into my mind with a skin crawling horror. Immediately, I whipped my head up to meet his nonchalant smile. As if what he had just said was not a lie, but a casual truth that was known to everyone. Not a person in the room flinched at his words, perceiving that impossibility as reality.

    ¡°... what?¡±

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    In that moment, a multitude of factors raced in my mind as blood rushed backwards through my veins, my limbs numb and cold. A shiver ran through my spine and the hairs on my skin turned up on edge as one by one the things I¡¯ve noticed became painfully clear to me. The ominous and darkened world I was used to seemed oddly bright when I woke, the fear of monsters or corruption long gone. The unfamiliar faces of the pope and his paladins, and the pristine view of the outside world from the window of a long flourished peaceful afternoon that could be taken as normality.

    My voice was caught up in my dry throat.

    ¡°One¡­ one thousand years?¡±

    ????

    Quiet, and much too long corridors welcomed me back. The darkness of our looming shadows trailed behind our figures and danced upon the walls via a held candlelight from the man in front of me. It was unbearingly long. But all I could do in the silence was watch with unblinking and dry eyes with the click and clack of our soles upon clean marble as a buzzing white noise. Before long, the man with unblemished and unwrinkled robes with a gold embroidered sash stopped at a door. A tall door, uncomfortably big at the end of this hallway. While holding the candle in one hand, he pushed the door open with another carefully. A light creak resounded in the silence as candlelight poured through the doorway.

    ¡°Here we are now,¡± he uttered quietly. ¡°This will be your bedroom and where you will be resting from now on¡±

    The pale moonlight poured in through the windows, clashing with the orange glow of the flickering hand held flame. The room was neat and clean, of ample size but still much too empty. There were a few cushions of chairs around a small table to the right, but at the center against the opposite wall was a bed with two nightstands caging either side. My shadow loomed in the doorway upon the marble floor, each step heavy and slow as I stood in the center of the room.

    ¡°If Your Holiness has any questions or requests, you are free to confide in me at any time.¡±

    The chilling yet comforting silence of the room consumed me.

    ¡°... I would like to be alone. Please.¡±

    It was quiet and without movement. After a moment, the candlelight swayed from behind me slowly.

    ¡°As Your Holiness wishes.¡±

    Carefully, the candlelight, too, was consumed by the darkness of the shadows as the doors closed behind me. The echoing of the pope¡¯s footsteps began to fade down the hallway. For minutes longer, I just stood in the middle of the room, listless.

    Eventually, I dragged my feet upon the unusual softness of the carpet towards the bedside. As I lowered myself to sit upon it, I reached out a hand and pressed into the neatly folded comforter.

    ¡°... It¡¯s so soft.¡± My murmuring comes out cracked and dry. The tips of my fingers dip into a fold, curling as I grab a fist of the fluffed blanket ruining the clean and perfect untouched image. My jaw clenches as I grit my teeth.

    It was just last night when the five of us were under the endless stars, our backs against the cold and hard forest ground. With a thin and worn cloth as an uncomfortable blanket, it still felt more comfortable than this eerie luxury. It was just last night when we quietly chatted our leftover energy away. Three of us at least, before Kaspar yelled at us and told us to sleep. We laughed and Shivani gently held my hand in silent agreement through their gloves, knowing our final battle could be our last. But the five of us wished and hoped anyway. I wished, and I hoped.

    It was just last night.

    ¡°No, I suppose that was¡­ a thousand years ago.¡±

    Numb. It didn¡¯t feel real, yet the nightly sights while in the carriage to the temple looked so different from the capital city I knew.

    ¡°It is true.¡±

    The pope¡¯s words from less than an hour ago echo in my mind.

    ¡°As the old records had written, your holiness had died in that final battle.¡±

    I loosen my fingers and withdrew them as I stood up from the bedside.

    ¡°And yet, just as it ended, the Sundrop Knight appeared to that lake in the palace¡¯s grounds holding your limp body in their arms.¡±

    I approach the moonlight, cruelly familiar pouring through the large window.

    ¡°They told the Pope and King at the time that the Divine Surya placed you under a slumber instead to heal your fatal wounds, and that someday you would return to this land, basked in the sun.¡±

    My fingertips press against the cold glass, as I peer up at the full moon. The stars are barely noticeable, their brilliance blotted out by the lights from the capital city. How bright they looked back then, with you.

    ¡°Oh¡­ I¡¯m sorry. There are no records of what happened to your comrades after that battle. There was just a single line, ¡®The Sundrop Knight then vanished without a trace¡¯.¡±

    I rest my forehead against the glass panes, the ends of my bangs barely tickling the bridge of my nose.

    ¡°What was I expecting? It¡¯s not like¡­¡±

    It was a mere four years, nearly five. Not even half of my life, and yet that time spent with everyone¡ªwith you, was everything to me. It was hard, and we were always getting injured and hurt at first. How could we not? We were children. You were hard to get along with, confusing, never speaking nor opening up to either me or Kaspar. Likewise, I think I was just as despondent. Our small trio grew to four, then five. And at the same time, what I felt¡ªwhat we felt for each other grew just the same.

    ¡°It¡¯s not like¡­ it changes anything.¡±

    The fact that you¡ªthe fact that everyone but me¡­

    ¡°... are long dead.¡±

    It was that night under Viaios Pass that we passionately embraced after being separated from the others. While sitting bare with nothing but my cloak draped on me, you took my hand and spoke into it softly, carving words with your calloused fingertips.

    [After everything is over¡ª]

    Though still half shielded by that helmet, your jaw clenched and lips uncharacteristically pressed together in nervous hesitance.

    [¡ªwill you come with me, and live with me and my family?]

    I gazed into your hand that fondly grasped mine, then into your golden eyes beyond the helmet before being overwhelmed by relief and joy. You leaned close and kissed my tears away, before meeting my lips once more. That night that was a mere months ago, was now a thousand years away. My Sun. My Sundrop Knight. My Shivani. I was content dying in your place. If the alternative was living a future without you, I would have died there a thousand times more.

    But here I am, alive. And you have long perished.

    Burning engulfs my eyes as stinging tears cloud over my blurred vision. Heat rises to my face, spreading throughout my body as the cold reality falls onto me.

    ¡°I¡­¡±

    My voice chokes in my throat, hiccupping gasps of air as I collapse against the window, bathed in the mourning moonlight. I clench my fingers against the glass, glaring through my tears up at the trembling moon.

    ¡°I miss you¡­!¡±

 Chapter Three: Golden Beauty Encounter

    The next morning, an older deaconess by the name of Charis was assigned to keep an eye on me.

    ¡°I¡¯ve come to aid in changing Your Holiness¡¯ clothes,¡± she had said at dawn, a neatly folded temple dress in her arms.

    ¡°... I am able to change by myself.¡±

    ¡°His Holiness insists. It is merely a gesture of goodwill for the Saintess who had protected us all those years ago.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t like I wanted to protect anyone. I was like a doll back then, doing merely what I was told. At first, I did my best because I didn¡¯t want to disappoint the father I had met for the first time. But then that day came, and I slowly realized that no matter what I did, I was nothing but a tool. After all, what story is better than the Pope reuniting with his long lost daughter, a remnant of his old and deceased lover? I believed it myself. At least, I wanted to at first.

    ¡°Father.¡±

    I didn¡¯t realize it until I had left the temple. While it was true Father¡¯s divinity was strong and unparalleled to nearly anyone¡­

    ¡°I can¡¯t hear or feel them at all. The Divine Surya isn¡¯t even here.¡±

    ¡­ Father was a fraud. I have been able to feel Surya¡¯s warmth my whole life. Yet when Father preached the Divine Surya¡¯s will as commands for the people, I was not able to feel the slightest bit of the deity¡¯s divinity. The temple became silent, and not a single person in the clergy said a word as all eyes fell on me. I was a child who he could have easily dismissed as being inexperienced. It had only been a few days since I joined the temple after all.

    But the way his face fell. From then on, I was no longer a little trinket to garner sympathy and blessings. I was a threat.

    The Mister¡¯s fingers firmly pressed into my shoulders, trembling along with the wide and crooked grin on his face.

    ¡°Listen here, Brat. I¡¯m selling you off right now. I¡¯m selling you to the man who hurt your mother, just for money.¡±

    The deaconess helped me undress on the first day, peeling away the protective fabric on my forearms. Right beneath were the faded scars that branched into fern-like leaves. No matter how much divinity I had, it¡¯s impossible to heal old scars like those. To inflict such agonizing pain on others using divinity¡­ it should have been a crime. Even corrupted beasts have been killed in a kinder manner.

    While the deaconess began folding my old battle dress, I looked at myself in the mirror. Carefully, I traced the large scar just between my ribs. The skin was slightly smoother in texture, but otherwise completely healed.

    ¡­ it really has been a thousand years, then.

    And so a week passed. Charis showed me to one of the temple baths that were reserved for Cardinals and the Pope. I appreciated that at least, as Cardinals rarely gather at the main temple. It was only during divine events, such as Divine Revelations, when all of the higher ranks in the temple came together. Father abused that religiously.

    I had no inkling as to what I wanted to do. Should I remain in the temple just as I did before? If I leave and run, where do I even go? And what to do. Even with few and fond memories of my mother, I knew little of my own people. What I knew could be useless given the change that comes with many eras. Corruption¡¯s Budding Vessel had been dealt with and so the beasts that spawn with corruption should have lessened significantly, rendering the need for my divinity useless as well.

    [¡ªwill you come with me, and live with me and my family?]

    I clench my fist and shake my head softly. The Temple doesn¡¯t even know what happened after Shivani disappeared. With a thousand years, Surya knows where Shivani¡¯s family have spread off to. For all I knew, their people may not even be in the kingdom anymore. And so, I¡¯ve been left with nothing, and no one to wait for me.

    [Find your sun.]

    The rustle of fabric upon the bed is abrupt when I sit up. The words I heard in my slumber only come to me now. My fingertips curl upon the surface of the comforter as the gears in my mind shift slowly. It is as if I had finally come to my senses to the present. Could it be possible? Is that why I¡¯ve awoken in this era, and not one before or after?

    Shivani is dead. That much, I know now. But in our world that the Divine Surya had created, souls following death after an ambiguous amount of time return to the land where they belong. That cycle of rebirth happens continuously. So then, the reason why I breathe again a millenia later¡ª

    ¡ªis it to reunite with my beloved? My sun, my Shivani?

    The low heels of my boots click against the polished floor as I quickly approach the door of this bedroom. Frankly, such a thing would be nearly impossible. Even if the Divine Surya has allowed us to meet again in this time, there has never been a recorded instance where someone has recollected memories of any of their past lives. Even if I met Shivani, the person they are now would not be the same person as the one I fell in love with.

    With a low creak, the door closes behind me. I clench my fist, curling my fingers against my chest. Even that is fine. That doesn¡¯t change a thing. I love Shivani, no matter what form they are in. Even if Shivani is a stranger, who knows not of who or what I am, I just want to see them again.

    And maybe, just maybe¡­ they could grant me my one, selfish, wish of finally being happy together.

    ????

    ¡°What¡­ did you say?¡±

    The man with faded brown hair and aimless purple eyes sits calmly with an unreadable expression.

    ¡°I cannot allow you to leave this temple.¡±

    ¡°...¡± For a moment, my mind went blank. Did I mishear him? I blink away as my heart begins to palpitate in my chest, ironically reminiscent of this situation. Quietly, I steel myself, murmuring about, ¡°... May I ask why?¡±

    ¡°Did you really think you could leave? Escape?¡±

    The images begin to overlap one another again, and I can¡¯t help but compare them when the next words leave the brunette¡¯s mouth.

    ¡°You are not prepared¡ª¡±

    ¡°You are not prepared for the outside world.¡±

    And so it happens again. Father and this man¡¯s silhouettes, and even their words mirroring each other. The Pope lifts his head, his irises moving as if searching for something from me.

    ¡°Did you read any of the texts left in your room?¡±

    ¡°A wench like you can¡¯t even memorize the basic texts.¡±

    My fingers stiffen by my side.

    ¡°No,¡± I barely manage to breathe out. Vaguely, I do recall a small pile of books left on a dresser in the room I was assigned to. Some of them looked quite old, and some of them newer. Either way, all of them were preserved in the highest condition possible. ¡°Why would I need to look at those old scriptures again?

    Once again, their words overlap, reminiscent of one another. It¡¯s an uncanny resemblance that it almost makes me laugh.

    ¡°You are young and naive, too ignorant to how the outside truly works. It¡¯s much different than the sheltered life you¡¯ve lived before.¡±

    All the while, the Pope of this era remains calm and collected, slightly wrinkled but unblemished and well kept hands folded over one another. This time, I scoff incredulously.

    ¡°Sheltered? Young and naive¡­?¡± It¡¯s under my breath, but it¡¯s still appalling nonetheless. For the only time it seems, I look the Pope straight in the eye. ¡°Your Holiness, who am I?¡±

    He¡¯s silent, contemplating, for a moment.

    ¡°... why, the Saintess, of course.¡±

    ¡°Yes. I am the Saintess.¡± My cold fingertips have become hot as blood rushes to my head. I¡¯m practically seething now. ¡°The Saintess, who, instead of an army of knights or a platoon of Paladins and Priests, was sent off to fight all of the land¡¯s corruption infused monsters at fourteen.¡±

    It¡¯s comical.

    ¡°I was ¡®old¡¯ enough to save the country and even its borders with the others, but now I am too young to walk through the streets of the very Kingdom I died for?!¡±

    The Pope¡¯s eyes then close as he breathes a quiet sigh.

    ¡°... the first the Saintess should know is that we are no longer a Kingdom, but an Empire.¡± He pauses a moment longer, as if it¡¯s supposed to mean something greater. As he sees I haven¡¯t changed in demeanor, he continues. ¡°And while I understand your frustrations, Daughter of Surya, the dangers of the era a thousand years ago are much different than the ones of the current.¡±

    Does he think I am a child? Does he take me for a fool? As someone who will simply take such a bizarre and obvious reason such as that?

    ¡°I know that much, Your Holiness. But,¡± I stress, narrowing my eyes as I grip the fabric of the temple dress. Does he truly think I am the sheltered and naive of the two of us? I know how power in the temple is passed. Father did nothing but exert his authority, tarnishing Surya¡¯s name under the guise of god¡¯s will to grow the temple¡¯s influence and riches. He had not lifted a finger, using the people¡¯s faith to boost his ego and glory just to rival the palace. It wasn¡¯t just Father either, it was everyone in that temple regardless of status. But in those nearly five years, I had witnessed horrors beyond those pristine temple walls; where thatched floors were covered in rotting flesh infested with maggots, the air condensed with putrid throat stinging stenches and the dirt stained with its people¡¯s blood. ¡°Are you truly saying that humans are worse than monsters? The beasts that ravaged through villages mindlessly without a thought, be it wealthy or poor, woman and child?¡±

    For just a moment, a split moment, something crossed his face that made me hold my breath. His aimless eyes seemed focused for but an instance, the eyebrows above softening as the corners of his thin and chapped lips lifted ever so slightly in an almost solemn smile. Slowly, he stands up from his chair and faces away from me.

    ¡°... as the Saintess is adamant, I suppose I can only allow it. But if you are to venture outside temple grounds, you must take at least one paladin with you.¡±

    ¡°...¡± I ponder over it for a few seconds. All I wanted was to enter the town enough to get a general feel. What¡ªor rather who I am looking for, I already know won¡¯t be easy. But if I continue to wiggle my way, and slowly expand my search enough across the kingdom¡ªer, empire, I know I¡¯ll find them. Whoever Shivani is, in this era. But at least for now, on the first day, pushing any more might make it difficult for me in the future. It¡¯s just for a little bit, I simply have to bear with being watched for a little bit longer.

    With a sigh, I concede.

    ¡°Fine.¡±

    After my response, the Pope walks toward the window behind his desk. On the window sill are what look like various small bells. His hand wavers over them for a moment, before his fingers find a specific one and he rings it. It makes no noise, however. Very faintly though, I could sense it. A quick and thin line of divinity, condensed so much it¡¯s almost like a thread in the breeze. But it¡¯s not the Pope¡¯s divinity. I can tell. In fact, after composing myself, none of the bells have the Pope¡¯s divinity but rather they all seem to be different. As quick as it came, the whiff of divinity disappears behind me. Just as the Pope sets the bell down next to the others again, a knock comes from the door.

    I turn around abruptly as the Pope turns and beckons the visitor to come in. The door pushes open and a Paladin enters. A weird sense of deja vu consumes me for a moment as the young man looks somewhat familiar.

    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Ah. One of the paladins from before, when the Pope came to fetch me. It wasn¡¯t the blonde one though. Contrary to the blonde¡¯s attempt to be friendly, this paladin¡¯s expression was as dull as his cool gray hair. There wasn¡¯t an ounce of emotion behind those eyes either. Until they wavered over to me. There was a flash of irritation, for just a moment. I arched an eyebrow, puzzled. But almost immediately, his cerulean gaze returns to the Pope¡¯s, retaining his firm stance.

    ¡°This is Sir Ianglade. He is one of our most skilled paladins, and had grown up in the capital,¡± the Pope explains, introducing him. I nod vaguely, but the paladin remains focused on the Pope. Alrighty then. The older brunette man turns more toward Sir Ianglade. ¡°As you know, this is the Saintess. She requests to venture into the castle town, so you are to escort and guard her.¡±

    ¡°Of course, as you command, Your Holiness.¡±

    ????

    The temple doesn¡¯t really own anything but divine garments, so I step out of the carriage doors with the same variation of dress I had been wearing for the past week. The only difference being the dark gray cloak covering said dress. Sir Ianglade holds out his hand without looking at me. I press my lips together, but resign myself as I take hold of it. He guides me down the one step of the carriage block as my soles land with a hop. I withdraw my hand immediately, returning to my side underneath the cloak. He turns and takes a few steps to talk to the coachman, allowing me time to carefully look at my surroundings. The temple takes ample care of leaving discreetly, such as the carriage being plain and without the temple¡¯s emblem. To take even greater caution, we were even dropped off in an emptier area closer to residential housing.

    My eyes quickly scan how much the capital has changed in the past thousand years. The style of houses have altered slightly for one thing. I can tell many have been rebuilt, though it seems stone and wood remain to be popular. The rooftops are much more colorful than in my memories though, as well as the roads.

    Then again, I think absentmindedly. The buildings in the lower district may have remained the same for all I know.

    ¡°So,¡± comes the paladin¡¯s voice. In my reminiscing, the carriage had already left. ¡°Where does Your Holiness wish to go?¡±

    ¡°... A place where a lot of people gather.¡± There is silence in response as I look away. My main goal isn¡¯t a destination. If I want to find Shivani, I need to be around others, or at least, a place where a lot of people congregate. Even something as simple as that would be enough to narrow the area down. The Paladin seems to stare at me quietly for a moment before the same glint of irritation flickers in his eyes. I press my lips thinly as he turns.

    ¡°If it¡¯s a lot of people Your Holiness wishes to see, the temple would¡¯ve been a brilliant place to start off with.¡±

    There¡¯s an off tone in his voice, a bit snappy. I tried to put that strange feeling off, but it seems his words have confirmed it.

    This person¡­ doesn¡¯t like me very much, does he?

    That¡¯s fine. I don¡¯t plan on getting along with anyone in the temple, never mind those who appear close to the Pope. If anything, this kind of hushed animosity and contempt is what I¡¯m used to in the temple. Though, I do not know what I¡¯ve done to garner it. Then again, there wasn¡¯t a reason why I was treated in such a way in childhood either. What reasons the people in the temple have matters little to me now.

    ¡°His Holiness said you¡¯ve grown up in the capital, did he not?¡± I ask. He turns his head slightly over his shoulder as our eyes meet. ¡°If so, it means His Holiness has faith in you as a guide. So simply do as you¡¯re told.¡±

    You can hate or despise me all you want. Just do your job and take me to where I want to go. I clench a fistful of fabric from under the cloak. The faster I find Shivani, the faster I¡¯ll rid the temple of my presence anyway. Being there, in those halls and in those rooms, sickens me as well.

    Though rocky and a bit awkward, he does eventually lead me into a more populated area. The stone tiles that make up the floor are noticeably more stable due to the amount of times the townsfolk walk upon them in their day-to-day lives. The residential buildings and homes kept nice and clean are replaced little by little with buildings more predominately made with stone bricks. As we make our way out of a back alley, the larger street is bustling with what appears to be more middle class common folk. On the sides of the walkway are varieties of stands hosted by merchants tighter knit with the community, while inside the buildings farther away are likely merchants more accustomed to serving the upper class. If you looked closely in the passing alleys, figures shrouded in shadows emitting a familiar sense of wariness and danger. Yet, even that is somewhat comforting.

    It¡¯s an almost nostalgic sight for me that breathes into me an air of relief. This kind of environment puts me at ease, much more than the pristine and clean walls of the temple. People¡¯s voices begin to meld together and become white noise, and if you focus hard enough, you¡¯d just barely be able to make out conversations. The sound of commoners conversing joyfully, or even the hushed argumental bargaining overlaps one another. A line of children run past with laughter and teasing, nearly tripping over their own rushed steps.

    ¡°Maya isn¡¯t allowed to be it anymore.¡±

    ¡°What? Why?!¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it obvious? You can always find us no matter where we go!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not my fault you guys are shitty hiders!¡±

    ¡°Waah, Maya said a bad grown up word!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m gonna tell the Mister!¡±

    ¡°Dita, don¡¯t you dare!¡±

    It¡¯s almost painful. Why did I leave this place, I wonder? We may have been poor, the skin on our small hands and knees scratched dark with dirt and only half of us with something in our stomachs, but we were happy. I was happy.

    ¡°I¡¯m selling you off right now.¡±

    ¡°...¡± I suck in a shaky breath, slapping my hands against my cheeks. I¡¯m going to be happy from now on. The moment I find Shivani, we¡¯re going to be happy. I just need to find Shivani.

    Glancing in front of me, I make sure Sir Ianglade has no intention of looking back to me. It seems he¡¯s focusing on dredging through the crowd. If that¡¯s so, then now would be the right time. After clearing my mind, I take a slow and deep breath. Clear, and empty. Focus on the coolness within, and let it seep out.

    I know finding Shivani would be difficult. Finding any reborn soul in a new body is impossible. Every living thing in this world is made up of divinity. Things like the plants and the elements, animals and beasts, as long as they are made up of living nature they are imbued with divinity. Humans as well have this quality. But the divinity within our souls is separate from the divinity of one¡¯s body. Even so, the ability to differentiate divinity from one another is difficult. While Father could wield large amounts of divinity, being able to detect and sense divinity is a different matter. Even for me, it¡¯s a bit difficult without a conscious mind.

    But¡­

    I softly exhale and inhale again, spreading cool ripples of my divinity throughout the space around me. It feathers, spreading through the silhouettes of the townsfolk nearby smoothly. If it were anyone else, it would be impossible. But because I am the ¡®Daughter of Surya¡¯ and Shivani is the ¡®Sundrop Knight¡¯¡ªbecause I am the ¡®moon¡¯ to Shivani¡¯s ¡®sun¡¯, it¡¯ll definitely be possible for us. Because no matter what body, no matter what form, our blessed divinity is pulled to one another. Just as when we met, though no one wanted to believe you were my ¡®sun¡¯, with one look I still knew.

    Like a languid pool of water, my divinity continuously flows without disturbance. After many seconds of holding my breath, I let out a long and shaken sigh. The feeling of cool water gradually dissipates, dissolving in on itself slowly like sea foam upon gentle waves. I already knew nothing would come out of the first day, and yet I couldn¡¯t help but still hope regardless.

    Even with the strengthened divinity I had accumulated in my slumber, I suppose even that isn¡¯t enough to find you...

    Glancing up, it seems the paladin has no idea of what I¡¯ve been doing despite spreading my divinity. One of the most skilled paladins, the Pope said? I suppose my divinity has always been difficult for others to perceive, especially to people unfamiliar with me, but it¡¯s still comical how unaffected the temple¡¯s divine knights can¡ª

    A warmth echoes back. It¡¯s small, like a falling stray thread, but that familiar warmth responds. A warmth akin to the sun.

    I inhale sharply, abruptly turning around and interrupting the flow of people. At being pushed slightly in different directions, my feet stumble over themselves. My throat is dry, and it feels like my mind is racing as my heart beats loudly in my ears. There¡¯s no way. It couldn¡¯t be, right? I couldn¡¯t tell clearly, I had already cut off the flow of divinity I released. It scattered as it dissolved, so I can¡¯t tell at all what direction it came from.

    But there¡¯s no way I could have mistaken it.

    My feet stumble, and there¡¯s an arm that suddenly wraps around my front and a hand that grasps my wrist that raises instinctively in defense. A yelp begins to escape my throat, before my mouth is covered by the hand holding my wrist. Before I knew it, I¡¯m dragged into an empty nearby alley, flailing my feet in an attempt to knock one of the assailant¡¯s legs. I¡¯m struggling muffled shouts into the gloved palm against my mouth, condensing my divinity through my restrained arm and swirling it until it takes shape between my fingertips. Loosening my jaw, I clench and bite hard into my assailant¡¯s palm to find the hesitation that¡¯ll allow me to¡ª

    There¡¯s a hiss of pain and the hold on my body and wrist is loosened.

    ¡°Tssk, god, Surya, calm down, please! It''s me!¡±

    My divinity infused right arm that¡¯s been made free is arched at my assailant¡¯s head behind me, but I hesitate. It¡¯s a familiar voice.

    ¡°Your Highness?¡± I turn, pushing away from his grip against the opposite wall where I can see him clearly. My eyes narrow as the hood lowers, revealing the golden cascade of hair neatly falling into a long braid that curves and hangs from his shoulder. Few strands of golden locks frame the man¡¯s well kept face, green eyes like the lush shadows of a forest. He was like a painting, even in unassuming and plain clothes. Royal genetics are scary. Even the king back then, while old, was considered beautifully in his prime¡ªthough I do not remember him that well since I had only met him once. Father was jealous of that, too. From outside of his own dark cloak, he massages the part of his palm I had bitten into. His eyes narrow in a wince flinching as he presses into it.

    ¡°Normally, dealing any kind of injury to the crown prince would be a crime, but¡­¡± The young man trails off, smiling sheepishly as I glare. He then laughs awkwardly, ¡°... this wound is excusable, seeing that I did deserve it.¡±

    Deserving it is an understatement. Had he been anyone else, his head would have been engulfed in water until he drowned.

    ¡°What was that, Your Highness? What is Your Highness even doing here?¡± My blood is still pumping with adrenaline, my fingertips gripping onto my cloak¡¯s fabric stiffly.

    ¡°I thought I recognized you in the crowd,¡± he reasons.

    ¡°And that is enough justification to drag me into an alleyway?¡±

    ¡°Well, no, but you see,¡± The Prince trails off, trying to find his words. He averts his eyes, before suddenly meeting mine. ¡°You looked disheartened. I thought you were being suffocated at being escorted by a paladin on your first outing, especially in a bustling place like the market.¡±

    You were seconds away from suffocating yourself.

    I pause for a moment. It felt like there was something else in those words, hidden in his softened expression. His eyes looked similar to a puppy left in the rain. It was as if there was a silent, ¡®like me¡¯, at the end of that sentence.

    ¡°Your Highness, that still is no reason to drag anyone into an alleyway.¡± He wasn¡¯t lying. I was disheartened, though not because of my escort. It was because¡­

    I blink, whipping my head back to the main street of townsfolk and vendors. The sudden encounter made me forget what happened.

    ¡°Is something wrong, Your Holiness?¡±

    ¡°... No, it¡¯s nothing, Your Highness,¡± I sigh, leaning against the stone wall behind me. By now, the trace most definitely would have moved by now. Even if I focused my divinity again, catching up to them may be a different matter entirely. Opening my eyes, the Prince stares back with a worried expression plain as day plastered onto his face. I attempt to smile back. ¡°Truly, nothing¡¯s wrong. Your Highness has no reason to worry.¡±

    Come to think of it, something of sorts happened before too, didn¡¯t it? Yes, that¡¯s right. It was for a very short, fleeting moment, but back at the palace¡­ I had felt that familiar, sun-like warmth then as well, didn¡¯t I?

    ¡°Your Highness,¡± I breathe, stilling myself. My eyes flicker up to him again, and he seems to flinch in surprise. ¡°Are you aware of any people¡­ who were at the palace that day, and may be venturing near the market now?¡±

    The golden haired royal furrows his eyebrows as he ponders away.

    ¡°Well,¡± he begins. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of people.¡±

    ¡°My ears are open.¡±

    ¡°Um,¡± the Prince seems to flush at the sudden attention. He averts his eyes quickly. ¡°I can assume by ¡®that day¡¯, you mean the day you awoke, correct?¡±

    I nod.

    ¡°That day was an event, not explicitly hosted by the palace but still somewhat hosted. It was an eclipse,¡± he explains. That was news to me. No one had mentioned that. Then again, I hadn¡¯t talked to many people over the course of this week. The Prince continues, ¡°The bridge of that lake is one of the most open places on palace grounds, and thus the land the lake was located at, that is normally restricted, was open for viewing.¡±

    ¡°I see¡­¡± I murmur. If a restricted area had suddenly become open for an event, there would be a lot of people. ¡°Even to commoners?¡±

    The Prince shakes his head.

    ¡°No, at least not the average commoner. It¡¯s still palace grounds after all.¡± He begins to hold up his hand, raising fingers one by one. ¡°There are quite a few large groups that attended that day that could be wandering leisurely now.¡±

    I watch carefully as he explains.

    ¡°First,¡± the Prince begins. ¡°Are the palace employees. While not often, they are offered days off. I do not memorize their schedules myself, but I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if there were a few around today. Second, would be palace knights who are in a similar situation.¡±

    ¡°Why would there be palace knights out right now¡­?¡± I question, meeting his gaze. He averts mine, however with a nervous smile. At his silence, I narrow my eyes. ¡°Your Highness¡­ would you not have escorts of your own accompanying you today?¡±

    ¡°Third,¡± he changes the subject, quickly. With a sigh, he concludes, ¡°would be the various nobles and their close personal attendants.¡±

    Those are a lot of people. Moreso most, if not all, are people I would practically never interact with if I continue to spend my days at the temple. That is, if Shivani¡¯s reincarnation is among those three groups of people. One thing¡¯s for sure, if what I felt both times really was Shivani¡¯s divinity, then¡­

    ¡°Are you trying to find someone? If it helps, I could collect a list of the knights and servants who were allowed out today,¡± the Prince offers.

    ¡°Thank you, but it¡¯s a bit more complicated than that,¡± I smile. Rather than a list of names, it¡¯d be easier if I could just see them all at once. If I did that, I could at the very least confirm that Shivani is among them.

    ¡°Oh, if you need to meet them instead,¡± the Prince suddenly speaks. He¡¯s looking down and digging underneath the cloak.

    ¡°Did I say that out loud?¡± I wonder. He looks up with a small smile.

    ¡°No, it was just written on your face,¡± he grins warmly, reaching a hand from underneath. In his gloved hand is an envelope with a red wax seal of the royal family. ¡°In three days, there is a ball being hosted in one of the palace halls. Most, if not all, of the nobles who attended the eclipse should be attending, as well as the same servants.¡±

    My mouth hangs agape for a moment as he hands the stamped invitation towards me.

    ¡°That¡¯s enough to provide an opportunity to find your ¡®Unknown¡¯, right?¡±

    ¡°I, that¡¯s¡­¡± My eyes waver between the invitation and the prince. He seems genuine, and there¡¯s only an honest clarity in his eyes. This is the perfect, if not the only chance I¡¯ll get at least for god knows how long. As I reach my fingers out, I hesitate though. It is perfect, but the only thing left would be¡­

    I can¡¯t help but shake my head and let my fingers fall.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I can go, though,¡± I reply with a bitter smile. His eyebrows furrow.

    ¡°Why not?¡± I can¡¯t help but laugh halfheartedly.

    ¡°I¡¯ve left my escort for too long.¡± Though half of it was his fault, the other lies with me. I had gotten mixed up in the crowd before the Prince took me away. Seeing as the paladin already didn¡¯t seem too fond of me, I have no doubts that any outings from now on would be much more strict¡ªthat is, if I am ever allowed out again.

    There¡¯s a strange expression on the prince¡¯s face this time. ¡°Why would that matter?¡±

    ¡°Your Highness,¡± I humor slightly. ¡°Perhaps you have the luxury of being able to abandon your escorts at will, but I¡­ do not have that.¡±

    ¡°But why?¡± He asks again. ¡°Your rank is higher than theirs. No one rivals your authority other than the Emperor and Pope themselves, and even then you are of equal standing.¡±

    Perhaps that¡¯s true. It was true in the past, yet that didn¡¯t stop Father and everyone else in the temple from walking over me. Something like that only deterred the other children, but the adults in power quickly realized nothing had changed about me. Even if god themself revealed to all that I was their promised daughter, I was still but a child. A small, powerless child with a title whose weight I could hardly comprehend.

    ¡°Even if I did exert my authority as Saintess,¡± I start. It¡¯s a foolish, yet equally plausible thought. ¡°Do you really think this temple garment is suitable for a ball?¡±

    I pull aside a flap of the cloak¡¯s wings. Divine garments, other than ceremonial clothing bearing embroidered sashes, are much more plain and modest. It makes traveling into the town and outside the capital easier, but for something as grandiose as balls hosted for nobility, it greatly falls flat. I¡¯ve grown accustomed to these kinds of clothing when in battle so it doesn¡¯t bother me, but even I know basic higher etiquette. I was taught so just in case before setting off to my kingdom-saving journey. Even if I didn¡¯t, the memory of the ladies in the distance covered in bright colors, ruffles, and jewels when I awoke vividly set an example.

    ¡°So as you see, Your Highness,¡± I conclude solemnly with a defeated smile. ¡°No matter how much I want to, the matter has become complicated enough. As I am now, going to this occasion just won¡¯t be possible.¡±

    The Crown Prince is silent. I wonder what is going on in that head of his. The golden haired man¡¯s eyes are so focused, deep in thought. It¡¯s somewhat familiar, though I do not know why.

    ¡°Is the Saintess one to give up so easily?¡±

    His mouth turns up into a smile. Placing the invitation into my hand, he grasps the wrist of my other and begins to drag me through the opposite side of the alleyway.

    ¡°Uh, Your Highness?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s simple, really. If the situation is as complicated as that,¡± he says. There¡¯s an almost confident cheeriness in his voice. Perhaps its arrogance, or is it assurance? Maybe it¡¯s both. ¡°If the problem all comes down to the fact that if you return you cannot attend at all, you simply just won¡¯t return.¡±

    We exit the alleyway, and down a separate and less crowded road where in the distance, it seems a trio of knights wait nervously in an anxious manner. It¡¯s only then when his words finally dawn upon me.

    ¡°Wait, what? Your Highness?!¡±

 Chapter Four: Preparation

    The next morning, I woke up in another unfamiliar bed and room that didn¡¯t belong to me. Not that I ever really had one. Back in the temple, all of the children were fit about two or three per room. Nobility usually had the facilities and money to raise their children, but the nobility who didn¡¯t and were prone to beast attacks would send their children to the temple for protection. In return as payment, the nobles would have to sign a Sun Contract with Father to make donations to the temple until the debt is paid. Sun Contracts have been dated from the ancient divine texts, and are said to have been existing since the Divine Surya had walked upon the land. Those contracts are made with sworn oaths kept by both parties involved, and after being signed the contract is practically bound to the parties¡¯ souls until completion. If one party breaks the promise somehow by failing to commit, the punishment agreed upon when the contract is written will be dealt.

    It was an evil tactic, more fit for thugs in the back alleys than the Pope. After all, if the noble families could not repay Father in a satisfactory manner, their children were made into hostages. But Father was just that kind of person. Rather, I suppose it¡¯s better to say that everyone who could wield a sizable amount of power and authority were cut from the same cloth. After all, while it may have not been so in the beginning, by the time my era had come along the only people who could present Sun Contracts were those in power. It¡¯s pitiful really, something Surya had created of their own divinity made to balance and divide the power of us humans had turned into something as wicked as that.

    As a result, about a third of the children in the temple remained in the temple for some time. In that fraction of children, about half would show potential in being able to control their divinity. While all humans have divinity, it does not mean everyone has the capabilities to conjure and wield their divinity. By the age of ten, a child¡¯s potential will manifest clearly. Father used this as a way to pick out children who showed promise. When a noble becomes a paladin, they are to abandon their noble name. Paladins are both an honor, and also a disgrace to nobility in that aspect. Most children who knew their talent with their divinity however, often chose the temple over their own.

    It¡¯s sad, I reminisce. I had given everything up to be with my family. That itself is a bad example seeing as it was the worst choice I made. It wasn¡¯t my fault though, that Father just happened to be a horrible person.

    I stare at the uncomfortably luxurious ceiling. Is it possible for a ceiling to be such a pure white? It¡¯s scary.

    Kaspar was one of those talents, I recall. He was practically a genius. By age ten, he already had great control over his divinity. That¡¯s how he became doted on by Father, after all. He was already Father¡¯s star pupil before I even came into the picture, since I was around eight when I was brought in and there was a¡­ three? Four year difference between the two of us? The Divine Revelation that revealed me being the Saintess didn¡¯t happen until I was ten. Until then, I could never fully manifest my divinity in physical form.

    I wonder what happened to Kaspar after the battle¡­

    The Pope told me there was no information about anyone. Out of everyone, Kaspar probably would¡¯ve left a mark. I remember Kaspar sustained a large wound, but I also remember rushing to heal him. But what happened exactly is still muddled together a bit. Even so, Kaspar definitely would have lived. Knowing him, he probably returned to the temple. For all I knew, he could¡¯ve succeeded Father as the next Pope. Father was a greedy and selfish man, but if he were to let his place be taken by anyone, it would¡¯ve been Kaspar.

    ¡°I should ask for records of past Popes when I get back¡­¡±

    Right. I¡¯m at the Palace. In a bed somehow much softer and more luxurious than the temple¡¯s, though that shouldn¡¯t surprise me. Is it even possible to acquire softer feathers? Are the temple¡¯s beds and pillows even stuffed with feathers? As nice as it feels, to the point it feels like I¡¯m sinking into the mattress, I don¡¯t think I could get used to it. Beds stuffed with common straw are more familiar to me. Or better yet, no bed at all. Even a nice and simple blanket would be enough, but I wouldn¡¯t turn down the firm floor.

    Vaguely, I recall the conversation I had with the prince in his own inconspicuous carriage to the palace.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to worry about your escort,¡± he assured me. Glancing outside the window with a carefree smile he continued, ¡°I already sent Saire to find a paladin and deliver the news. I will send a more formal letter of apology and explanation to the Pope when we get to the palace.¡±

    He paused for a moment before raising a hand and holding it beside his mouth as if to whisper.

    ¡°Of course,¡± the Prince muttered in a harsh tone, smiling still. ¡°Not the actual reason, I¡¯ll just come up with one on the fly. That way, you¡¯ll be free to focus on finding your ¡®Unknown¡¯.¡±

    The golden haired prince smiled warmly as the carriage rattled from the road.

    ¡°So don¡¯t you worry about a thing.¡±

    When we arrived at the palace¡¯s entrance, the prince handed me off to a maid who escorted me to this room to rest until the ball. It does make me nervous, however. While I don¡¯t particularly care for how that paladin thinks of me, it still makes me worry about our next interaction. Whether this fails or not, I¡¯m still going back to the temple. That means that I will still have to be escorted when I leave the temple¡¯s grounds. In turn, that also means the chances of me and that paladin being paired remain high. How he feels about me is how he feels, but I just don¡¯t want to deal with an escort who is glaring and constantly in a bad mood. No one would feel great about something like that.

    Glancing at the small clock that is set onto the desk a little ways away from the bed, I wonder what there is to do. After all, my only instructions last night from the prince was that I could simply rest in this guest room until the morning. When I asked for clarification, he only smiled in a way that said, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I will handle it¡±. Handle what exactly? After sending me along with the maid, the prince did not contact me after. After a small tour of the hallways preceding the guest room and the locations of the nearest garden, I sat in this very spacious guest room for about an hour. It was already sunset by the time we arrived at the palace, and a duo of maids had brought me food so I could have dinner in private.

    ¡°The prince is pretty attentive,¡± I muse quietly. He¡¯s also observant, despite his strange character. Or perhaps I really am as easy to read as he claims. He¡¯s also quite¡­ What''s the word? Reckless? Rash? In a way, he is both considerate and inconsiderate. He acts without thinking, but seems to have good intentions. He doesn¡¯t really feel like a noble, strangely. Or is it perhaps that nobles have changed in the millennia I¡¯ve been gone? At least, when I think about nobles of similar standing to Father, I can only really think about the kind of person Father and his associates were.

    All of those people were part of the temple though¡­

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    The noble children who were sent to the temple behaved similarly to the adults in the temple. Or rather, they followed Father¡¯s example. Since Father didn¡¯t care for and hated me, the others followed suit.

    There was the King though, I suddenly remembered. I only ever saw him once, the day me, Shivani, and Kaspar left for our journey. He presented Shivani to the kingdom, revealing their identity as the Sundrop Knight. Everyone was shocked of course, and there were shouts I remember. After all, no one knew of this child clad in armor from head to toe.

    I¡¯m pretty sure the King was also the twisted sort. He seemed smug that day, seeing Father¡¯s enraged expression. The King purposefully hid Shivani¡¯s existence until then to make a fool out of Father. I think long and hard. Did Shivani ever talk about the King?

    No, I conclude. Rather, Shivani may have been avoiding talking about it. The King, that is.

    I close my eyes in remembrance.

    ¡°Shivani, why did you become the Sun Knight?¡±

    Kaspar was sleeping away while we rode on the edge of a farmer¡¯s wagon. I think it was around the time Shivani had begun to teach me sign, a little more than a year after we met. We were not lovers then. Were we even friends, I wonder? We may have started to be. I wasn¡¯t able to hold conversations in sign at all yet, though. We were moving, so Shivani couldn¡¯t write into the dirt as they had predominantly at the time. So Shivani did what they did as an alternative, writing into my palm to communicate. It was always a bit difficult though, because Shivani always wore the bulky greaves for their armor.

    [... to protect my family.]

    ¡°You have family, Shivani?¡± I remember the silent helmeted stare, as well as my embarrassment along with my struggle to explain. ¡°It¡¯s not that I¡¯m saying you don¡¯t have a family! It¡¯s just, you¡¯ve never mentioned them until now, and I¡­¡±

    It was awkward. Awkward because I knew of exactly two family members I had. My gentle and beautiful mother, who had done her best for me even though she would have lived a better life had I not been born. A mother, who became a mother much too early involuntarily, and passed away just as quickly when I was around seven. The other, a Father who ruined my poor mother¡¯s life on a whim, and had never been a true father. A man I wished wasn¡¯t my father.

    I think all of those thoughts had shown on my face then, too.

    [... Yes.]

    Shivani gently wrote into my hand.

    [I have a lot of family, a tribe in fact. A lot of siblings, cousins, and those tied very thinly by blood.]

    Though I could not see it, the warmth and comfort of their divinity enveloping mine were as if they had smiled.

    [Would you like me to tell you about them?]

    There¡¯s knocks at the door, loud and echoing. A strangled noise comes from my throat as I sit up in surprise.

    ¡°Um¡ªcome in!¡± I call.

    The pearly white doors of the guest bedroom are pushed open abruptly and the maid who had been escorting me and bringing me my meals up until now bursts in.

    ¡°Pardon me, Your Holiness, but we must rush to the drawing room!¡±

    I look at her, puzzled, but her rush and excitement is starting to make me nervous.

    ¡°I apologize, but¡­ where?¡±

    She blinks and then gasps after realizing that I know little to nothing about the layout of the castle.

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m so sorry, but¡ªoh, um, just follow me¡ªquickly! Your Holiness!¡±

    ????

    There have been many loud door knocks in the past twenty four hours. But this time, I¡¯m not the one calling for the person, whoever they are, to enter.

    ¡°Come in!¡±

    The door creaks, though I cannot see it. Instead, dividing me and the rest of the large room is a finely woven screen that can be divided into about five folded parts. It¡¯s amazing how expensive and high quality nobles want everything to be, be it their beds to the folding sheet that shields you when you are changing. The silhouette of Lariette, the maid who I¡¯ve recently discovered the name of, is hardly visible from the other side of the screen, but she bows quietly. The dense click of footsteps weigh onto the polished wood flooring, before being considerably muffled by the¡ªequally¡ªexpensive carpet.

    ¡°How is it going, so far?¡±

    ¡°I would also like to ask that question, Your Highness,¡± I respond stiffly. In the span of about forty minutes, perhaps fifty, I¡¯ve been rushed to a room I¡¯ve never heard of and have met a very enthusiastic young woman who appeared to be in her mid to late twenties. At first she looked at me and my clothes, the temple dress and boots I had been wearing since yesterday, with great almost offended pity before rushing like a storm and transforming the room instantaneously. Proceeding, a handful of maids had been called in with some carefully handling bundles of cloth and fabric which I now know are dresses.

    And for the past thirty or so minutes since then, I had been stripped and dressed multiple times by a total of three maids interchangeably with the strange woman simply watching with a variety of expressions.

    ¡°Frankly, you had about twelve, give or take an additional two or three more hours, to tell me all about this beforehand,¡± I chastise as a maid fastens clips up my back. My hair has been tied up and maintained into a rather large messy bun with a giant clip as it kept getting in the way. That was the only thing I could process as the minutes ticked by.

    The crown prince from beyond the screen offers a quiet and albeit awkward chuckle.

    ¡°Sorry about that. I did tell you I had to write a formal letter to the temple. That, as well as arranging a time with Madame Varda to get your ball gown situated on short notice took quite a bit of time.¡±

    ¡°Your Highness, while I did say I needed a dress, that did not mean I¡¯m going to require an entire wardrobe change.¡± As a separate maid tightened the corset to what I hope was to finish this dress, I continue, ¡°Any spare dress on hand in the palace would have done fine.¡±

    ¡°... Your Holiness, as I am the sole, unmarried, heir to the Ouranos Empire, we do not have any ball gowns befitting a noblewoman of this decade simply lying around. My mother had long passed when I was a child, so any of the keepsakes we own of hers likely wouldn¡¯t be the easiest to repair on short notice.¡±

    ¡°Which makes creating an entire new array of dresses better¡­?¡± I question.

    ¡°Given that the ball in question is in less than three days time, a new dress is entirely impossible,¡± the Madame a few feet in front of me answers. She eyes me up and down carefully with a pondering expression with her arms crossed. ¡°As it is extremely short notice, my job today is to find what trending styles and colors suit you best, as well as your measurements to alter a preexisting dress we have in my boutique.¡±

    The woman stares and hums to herself in great thought.

    ¡°You may not know of this, Your Holiness, but as this is your first official appearance in public this by all means would be the equivalent to a young girl¡¯s debutante. You have been quite the hot topic as of late, so many eyes will be on you as well.¡± She meets my gaze with her garnet-like eyes. ¡°This is why, while you are inexperienced in social etiquette, your dress must be just as extraordinary as you are. In high society, appearance is everything.¡±

    I stand uncomfortably with my arms stiffly raised to my side. What nobles think matters little to me. All I wanted was to be presentable enough so that I wouldn¡¯t disrupt anyone, nor draw attention to myself. After all, I just want to find Shivani. But¡­ there¡¯s very little I know about nobles in general. In addition, there¡¯s the possibility that this attempt to find Shivani will fail. If I ruin something the nobles consider valuable, I may destroy my chances to find them again. And if I¡¯m going to draw attention to myself no matter what, I have no choice but to comply.

    ¡°... Continue as you like, then.¡±

    Delight reflects in the woman¡¯s eyes as she claps her hands together.

    ¡°Marvelous! Though I would have done so without the Saintess¡¯ permission regardless,¡± she exclaims. Great. The Madame turns to the notebook she had set aside on a spare stool along with a simple graphite crayon. With a short moment of recollecting her thoughts, she quickly scribbles down more words into a list she had steadily been building since she had arrived.

    ¡°Now that we are partly finished, there are a few things I must discuss with Your Highness in regards to Her Holiness¡¯ dressing in the foreseeable future.¡±

 Chapter Five: The Dusk Haired FiancèŒ…

    Three days in the palace pass unexpectedly quickly. From the Madame and the Crown Prince going over what my wardrobe is going to look like from now on, to maids vigorously preparing me merely hours early in the day preceding the ball later tonight. Like a whirlwind, it feels as if I had been thrust into a hurricane back and forth.

    ¡°Your Holiness, please close your eyes.¡±

    Lariette, who I¡¯ve slowly become accustomed to in the past few days from her attending to me on the prince¡¯s order, is currently doing my makeup.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you think we should powder her face more¡­?¡±

    ¡°Her Holiness already has a nice face, putting too much will only contrast her natural beauty.¡±

    ¡°However, Her Holiness is less pale than the other ladies¡­¡±

    ¡°Chevelle, Her Holiness is a woman of color. A proper night and morning routine does better than hiding her features with cosmetics that only apply to our pale mothers.¡±

    The soft patting of a makeup instrument, I suspect is also stuffed with feathers or cotton of sorts, upon my cheeks begins to cease. I¡¯ve considered counting how many items within the palace contain feathers just to pity the amount of birds that have been killed throughout the years. All the while, another maid has begun loosely braiding the hair behind me. In the meantime, I¡¯ve been sitting silently with my hands carefully folded over the other upon my lap. The only request I made to the Madame at the time about two days ago was that I didn¡¯t want a dress that was uncomfortable. As a result, the ball gown I have now is decently comfortable, though heavier than I thought. Rather than heavy around my chest or torso area¡ªcorsets I can bear with¡ªI¡¯d say the skirt has the most weight. From the undergarments underneath everything already, there were about two or three more layers of skirt fabric that I know not the name of. The top layer especially, the colorful layer that was a matching lavender with my torso, in turn also had decorative lace and ruffles dotted with small pearls. Matching ruffles were laid upon my chest and shoulders. At the very least I had short sleeves, puffed, and a pair of long white gloves that practically covered my arms completely.

    ¡°It¡¯s best that the Saintess wear long gloves for the most part. I¡¯m no expert on divine magic, but if those scars can¡¯t be healed, then they have to be hidden. It may be jarring for the more traditional crowd and she may receive odd stares instead of looks in awe.¡±

    Shifting my palm, I glanced down at my hidden arms. I suppose some things do not change. Only the privileged have the ability to see scars as ugly or terrifying. Glancing up at the mirror in front of me, I take in my new attire for the night fully.

    ¡­ It¡¯s pretty. I¡¯m still reluctant about how bizarre and overblown the situation is with my apparently future wardrobe, but I¡¯d lie if I said I hated dresses. When I was younger, before entering the temple, I remember eying the noblewomen in the streets with glittering eyes. After all, a lot of children dream at least once to wear something magnificent like this. Even in the outside world when we were battling corrupted beasts, I always liked the way the fabric flows easily with my movements. Since the dress I wore was imbued with divinity, it was also practical in a way that actually served divine protection against corruption.

    I curl my fingers loosely, one by one. It¡¯s only been a few days for me, but I already miss it¡ªthat feeling of freedom. Climbing tedious rocky mountains, walking around through fields of abandoned weeds, treading through sand and snow¡­ it was hard, but I felt alive again. And in that place, in those memories that fill me with such serenity, you were always there. Was it those places that gave me that sense of freedom and solace? Or was it because you were there with me, watching quietly with a gaze as warm as sunlight?

    Clenching my fingers against my palm, I suck in a breath. Just a little longer.

    ¡°Oh.¡± I forgot to keep my eyes closed, forcing them shut again nervously.

    ¡°It¡¯s alright Your Holiness, I¡¯ve finished your blush already. All that¡¯s left is your rouge.¡±

    Rouge? My inward question is answered as I open my eyes. Lariette leans close and stares at my lips intently, lightly dabbing at them with a small crayon-like peach colored utensil wrapped in paper.

    ¡°Her Holiness is more baby-faced, so a lighter rouge is better suited.¡±

    ¡°Aren''t bold rouges popular nowadays though?¡±

    ¡°Did you see Countess Thistle last month? Very few can pull it off nicely. It looks childish if you choose one ill-fitted to your own complexion.¡±

    There¡¯s a wince from the maid looking through various accessories.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think anyone can consistently apply it as naturally as the Graces, however.¡±

    ¡°That lavender of Lady Calliope¡¯s is one of a kind after all. I don¡¯t think anyone can compare to her serenity!¡±

    ¡°The signature vibrance of Lady Venus¡¯ red is also its own force to be reckoned with. Her business intuition is also scary.¡±

    ¡°But,¡± the maid who has been braiding my hair pipes up herself. ¡°Lady Rishita¡¯s mature beauty shines most brilliantly, doesn¡¯t it?¡±

    The maids become quiet before sighing in unison. In the meantime, I¡¯ve been holding my breath hoping none of the ladies have noticed the flutter in my chest as well as the heat upon my ears in their gossiping. After what feels like an eternity, I can feel myself sigh as Lariette finally smiles to herself and distances her face. It¡¯s a miracle the warmth and embarrassment can be muddled by the tinted dust upon my cheeks. I hadn¡¯t been so close to another girl since before I joined the temple. I¡¯ve never been good around pretty women, or at least beautiful people in general. That¡¯s what you get when you travel with men and an armored divine warrior for nearly five years.

    ¡°All that¡¯s left should be the perfume. Does Your Holiness have a scent you prefer?¡± Lariette asks.

    ¡°Um,¡± I feel as if I am sweating. I know nothing about flowers or perfumes. There¡¯s incense and the smell of burning wood from campfires, but I¡¯m sure that¡¯s different. ¡°What¡­ scents are there?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s quite a variety,¡± Lariette says, walking over behind me along with the other maids to look at the array of bottles. ¡°Violet is always a popular choice. Lavender and Rosemary leave a lasting impression and are more herbal than sweet. Jasmine is strong, but equally floral and is always a good choice. Rose and Honeysuckle are more subtle but always a joy.¡±

    There¡¯s the clinking of glass bottles.

    ¡°Does Your Holiness like flower scents?¡± A younger maid asks.

    ¡°Yes? I mean,¡± I sputter, trying to remember the last time I smelled a flower. Wildflowers count, surely? Dandelions are nice, though most think of them as weeds. I like the scent of nature, something lighter and natural. ¡°Maybe not one that is too strong¡­¡±

    ¡°Orange blossom is a more youthful, citrus scent that isn¡¯t too overbearing,¡± another maid pitches in. It¡¯s a bit overwhelming. Just like the dress, accessories, it''s as if everything has to be an overbearing descriptor of me.

    Suddenly, I recalled something in the depths of my memory. It was such a long time ago, about after I memorized the alphabet in sign and had begun learning small words. There was a child in a village we had stayed at who knew sign along with their mute sibling and was excited to communicate with Shivani.

    ¡°¡®Moonflower¡¯?¡±

    Shivani seemed surprised, jolting so when I came up behind them. Up until that point, I had never gotten the chance to see what Shivani referred to me. After all, no one else in our traveling party knew sign and Shivani would simply sign to me instead of talk about me. It had only caught my eye because the child had been staring at me intently after they had signed to the child. Shivani did not spell my name out individually, however.

    ¡°Is that what you call me?¡±

    Shivani did not respond. In fact, I believe they had actually turned away from me. By then, we had long become accustomed to each other''s habits so I could tell. Although they were covered from head to toe in metal, Shivani¡¯s embarrassment was as clear as day.

    ¡°That¡¯s sweet,¡± I remember smiling.

    Back then¡­

    If I remembered correctly, back then things between us were ambiguous. We were good friends, friends who had bore our heart and soul to each other. Friends, who felt comfort in each other''s presence. Friends, who had begun dancing around each other nervously simply because those feelings of friendship began to change.

    And eventually those feelings burst, I recall, warm yet bittersweet grief brewing in my chest. Under Viaios Pass.

    ¡°Um¡­ Your Holiness?¡±

    ¡°Oh! Sorry,¡± I exclaim, forcing myself out of my reminiscing. If I succeed, it¡¯ll just be a bit longer. Just a bit longer until I see you again. ¡°Does¡­ Does a Moonflower scent exist?¡±

    The women are silent behind me.

    ¡°Moonflower perfume¡­¡± There¡¯s the light clinking of glass. Out of the mirror¡¯s reflection, I can see them giving each other doubtful looks as they finally come across a small bottle. It¡¯s much smaller than the others, and less new as the glass is a bit more clouded compared to the rest. Lariette threw over a glance. ¡°Is Your Holiness sure about this one?¡±

    Maybe not as much now after looking at their expressions. But it¡¯s the only kind of flower I can think of that probably suits me¡ªthough I do not know what it smells or looks like.

    ¡°Yes, I am.¡±

    The girls look at one another for one last time before Lariette approaches and unbottles the cap. At the same time, there is a knock at the door.

    ¡°Um, yes?¡±

    ¡°Is Her Holiness¡¯ preparations complete yet?¡±

    ¡°She will be ready in a moment!¡±

    ????

    I am thankful I was given shoes with short and stubby heels. For the past fifteen minutes the knight in front of me has escorted me through the various castle halls in order to meet with the prince. I was used to walking long distances, but I¡¯d never worn heels in my life. Of course, the temple never expected me to, either. Why would you give high heels to the child you¡¯re sending off to war? Half of me is actually surprised they didn¡¯t send me off in heels. After all, I left the capital with a cloak sewn with gold. It was better that way though, because neither Father nor the King sent us off with money so the first thing we did was pawn away the expensive vanity I was decorated in. Kaspar was throwing a fuss at first since he saw the garbs as a sacred gift from Father, but we needed the money the most. I think for that first year we were struggling a lot financially, and only ever camped out. Traveling in general became much easier when Zen joined our group, him and his mysterious connections and money from that shady information guild¡­

    But Zenith wasn¡¯t a bad person. A weird adult, but a decent person. I don¡¯t think I could ever understand him. He was always loud and careless, yet extremely precise and agile. Like a man who was born with the ability to fight without an actual ambition or goal. Why did he travel with us, anyway? If Zen survived after the battle, he definitely wouldn¡¯t leave a mark in history. He was flashy, but I think he enjoyed being unknown. He was like the stars. Seemingly always bright and twinkling when you look at him, but easily blends into the background otherwise.

    He was a weirdo, an un-adultlike adult.

    ¡°Plegh,¡± I vaguely recalled.

    ¡°Oh? What is the matter, littlest Maya?¡±

    It was a long time ago, and so small and insignificant, that I¡¯m not sure why it comes to mind. We were gathering information about the area in a tavern, and he ordered me an un-alcoholic drink.

    ¡°It¡¯s too sweet,¡± I remember mumbling while pushing the mug away.

    ¡°Oh, I just ordered you what I got. Do you not like sweets?¡± I looked at him for a long time with a scrunched expression before shaking my head. He had a major sweet tooth, disgustingly so. I was always surprised that he had such healthy teeth. He looked at me thoughtfully for a while before the curves of his lips fell ever so slightly. ¡°Not even food preferences carry on, huh¡­¡±

    ¡°???¡±

    And so he returned to his usual, goofy grin before roughly messing up the hair on my head, guffawing as he spoke.

    ¡°Alright, alright! Don¡¯t worry, next time I¡¯ll surely get you something sour! Or bitter? Whichever you desire, littlest Maya!¡±

    That was a lie, for many times to come, of course. Though, for an un-adultlike adult, he may have been the only adult who treated me and Shivani as we were¡ªchildren. Being a decade older than us probably helped.

    ¡°Your Holiness.¡± The knight in front of me finally speaks, it seems. ¡°His Highness is waiting up ahead.¡±

    We are stopped just before a corner that seems to lead to a larger, main hallway. I narrow my eyes, suspicion rising. ¡°You¡¯re not coming with me?¡±

    ¡°My orders end here.¡±

    A bit weird. He stands still waiting for me to pass him. As I cautiously take a few steps forward, I note his uniform. It¡¯s different from the knights I saw before. It¡¯s barely noticeable, aside from the dark obsidian stone like a badge pinned to their capelet. Did that palace servant from a week ago and the knights from three days ago have that?

    Keeping that in mind, I turn the corner and proceed through the larger hallway. It¡¯s empty, which adds more to my unease and suspicion, until I squint and see a mildly familiar figure further down the hall. My shoulders lower and loosen as a relieved sigh escapes me.

    As I run while carefully grasping the sides of my dress to not trip, I call out to the golden haired man, hair in his signature neat braid.

    ¡°Your Highness!¡±

    At the sound of my voice, the crown prince turns his head abruptly in a smile. It looks as if he¡¯s about to call out and even wave over in return since the hand to his side begins to raise immediately. But it freezes in place stiffly, and the smile on his face falls as his eyes seem to fully meet mine. I give him a confused look as I slow next to him.

    ¡°Uh¡­ is something wrong, Your Highness?¡±

    His green irises move up and down, eying me completely for a moment. The strange halted expression on his face fades away quickly and is replaced with a grin. He raises his hand in an open gesture.

    ¡°No, apologies. Shall we head to the ballroom, Your Holiness?¡±

    After offering a quick raised eyebrow, I shake it off and place my hand on his with a smile.

    ¡°Is it far? It was already a long walk from the dressing room to here.¡± As we begin to turn a corner and continue on for a few steps, he gives me an odd look laced with humor.

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°Long walk? Wouldn¡¯t her Holiness be used to walking by now after saving the empire?¡±

    Right. Still need to get used to that change.

    ¡°It¡¯s less about the walk, and more of the unbearable silence¡­¡±

    A light chuckle comes from the prince¡¯s throat. ¡°Altan is more of the quiet type. But Your Holiness doesn¡¯t have to worry, the ballroom is just a bit further.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a relief¡­¡± I sigh. The light muted clacks of my heels on the carpeted marble flooring resound dully. As we draw closer to the doors leading to the ballroom, my nerves finally seem to catch up with me. ¡°Can we go over the plan again, Your Highness? I haven¡¯t forgotten. Just¡­ need reassurance.¡±

    His straight laced eyes waver over to me for a moment before returning forward.

    ¡°If Your Holiness desires so,¡± he begins. He takes a moment to gather and simplify his thoughts. ¡°We are to enter the ballroom together, me as Your Holiness¡¯ escort. Many will greet me after we descend, but that will quickly fan out. Because this is your first official public appearance, that in itself will draw the nobles¡¯ attention to you. As a result, it will give you the opportunity to meet and converse with nobles in close proximity to easily find your ¡®Unknown¡¯.¡±

    ¡°And are you sure I won¡¯t need to dance?¡±

    His Highness chuckles.

    ¡°This is a casual ball hosted by the imperial family. The only one who would be able to force you to dance would have been my late mother. Because of your rank, you have the power to deny any who request without backlash.¡± The prince gives a small, half-hearted laugh. ¡°In addition, no one is expecting Your Holiness to dance. For tonight, you are a guest attending as yourself, The Saintess. Think of yourself as¡­ a spectacle. You are not in the same league as them, and thus not burdened with the same expectations a common noblewoman would carry in these types of social situations.¡±

    He turns his head slightly toward me as we approach the large doors.

    ¡°Of course, if you decide to attend more balls, this will obviously change.¡±

    ¡°Yup. Got it.¡± My heart is pounding in my chest. It¡¯s resounding in my ears, and all sorts of things are crashing down on me at once. I am a spectacle for nobles to gawk at, once again. It¡¯s a familiar, dirty feeling. Instead of being covered in a gold lined cloak, I am now covered in equally glittering silk. My role as the Saintess should have been treated with sanctity, yet Father treated each instance of me going out as a way to show off to the nobility and royal family. And now, I am doing the same to myself. But this is all to find them¡ªto find Shivani. It¡¯s alright. I don¡¯t mind. If becoming a spectacle is what it takes to find Shivani, I will perform over and over again.

    After going over the details of the plan in my head again, a small but very important detail escaped me completely¡ªso much so that I feel foolish at how long I had gone without seeking it.

    ¡°Your Highness, it is now that I¡¯ve come to a very embarrassing problem.¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°I do not have the slightest idea of what your name is.¡± The crown prince¡¯s footsteps halt for a moment as well as the hand underneath mine. It is then that the prince begins to burst out into genuine laughter, his formal persona shattering instantaneously for that small moment. Heat crawls up my neck and I can feel it swarm around my ears in embarrassment.

    ¡°Well¡ªmy dear Saintess,¡± he stutters as his cackling melts into a grin. ¡°You¡¯re just going to have to see when we enter.¡±

    The large doors open before us, pouring a brighter and warmer light into the hallway. Muffled sounds from beyond become clear as we gradually step into the chandelier lit ballroom¡¯s platform, raised higher in ascension with carpeted stairs crawling up the sides only to meet halfway down the middle.

    ¡°Entering¡ªHis Highness the Crown Prince, Iliazo Kalpana Ouranos and Her Holiness the Saintess, Mayari ka Surya!¡±

    Iliazo. Iliazo. Kalpana must be his divine name, then. Most noble children are taken to the temple to get their divine name from the Pope, royalty I assume being the same. Traditionally, Surya bestows them through the Pope''s divinations. Of course, that meant every divine name in my father¡¯s generation were fabrications. Repeating the prince¡¯s name in my head, I glance over to him as we turn to walk down the stairs. Divine names are reserved only for those not in the temple, deriving from the old language in the Divine Surya¡¯s reign. Those in the temple such as the Pope and myself are given Surya¡¯s name directly as Surya¡¯s blessing. Illiazo Kalpana Ouranos, huh?

    Dream-like imagination, I try to remember vaguely. It doesn¡¯t fit him, yet also does?

    The various ballroom conversations begin to quiet ever so slightly, the heated stares starting to overwhelm me. It¡¯s familiar, eerily so. The prince¡¯s words couldn¡¯t be any more true; it¡¯s as if they are watching a spectacle. Even so, I continue to smile, my fingers stiff against the prince¡¯s palm. Gloved fingers underneath my palm curl, darting over quickly to his reassuring smile. As the carped upon the stairs ended, the soles of our shoes clacked at the bottom of the staircase where a small crowd of nobles in extravagant suits and dresses began to approach.

    We part here, and then¡­

    I walk past the Prince, my fingers slipping away from his palm, before he suddenly catches a hold of my wrist. It was such a sudden movement that I stagger backwards. Turning my head, I look at him awkwardly.

    ¡°Your Highness..? Is something wrong?¡±

    Prince Iliazo¡¯s frozen green eyes widen as if suddenly realizing what he had just done. He quickly lets go, the familiar polite smile on his face once again.

    ¡°Apologies. You just¡­¡± I look at him with a raised eyebrow before he shakes his head. He holds his hands up with a grin. ¡°Never mind, go on! I have people to converse with, after all.¡±

    Curiously, I let my eyes linger a moment longer before turning and walking further away through the crowd. For a moment, he had muttered under his breath¡ªsomething I could just barely make out through the resumed ballroom conversations muddled around us.

    ¡°What a familiar scent.¡±

    I quickly shrug it off as I brace myself at the sight of people already eagerly approaching me the moment me and Illiazo split off. The first to make a move is an average middle aged man in a snugly but not oddly fitting tailcoat.

    ¡°Blessings and glory to The Saintess. It is an honor to be graced with Her Holiness¡¯ presence this fine night,¡± he says at first, making sure to bow before continuing. It still strikes me with discomfort and unease, how naturally it comes to others to prostrate themselves before me. Even back then, when my job as the Saintess was even more prevalent than in this era, no one ever bowed or curtsied to me. It¡¯s strange. The people of this era never lived through the time where people, rich and poor, were plagued by a fog of fear and death from corruption¡¯s beasts. And even if I was destined to lift that veil, divinity if not proformative was seen as folly to the nobles of my era. That¡¯s why neither the king nor my father spared anything our way when we left to do our actual duty in saving the continent¡ªour performance had ended, and neither could gain anything. We mostly helped the poor on our travels after all, as those in the outskirts and countryside had fallen to corrupted beast attacks most.

    I suppose there is a reason for it though, I surmise. To these people, I am direct proof of what¡¯s almost a fairytale come to life.

    But, I am not a myth or fairytale. I may be deemed the daughter of god, but I am not a divine. I may exist in fairy tales or be seen as a miracle, but I will never be seen rooted in reality by my own kin.

    ¡°... Please, rise. There is no need for such actions, I am merely a guest to such a festive event after all.¡± The man looks up to me before straightening his back.

    ¡°While on such a topic, if I may be so bold,¡± he coughs. What dark and bushy eyebrows. ¡°Does Your Holiness intend to stay throughout the entire night?¡±

    ¡°Who is to say?¡± I smile politely. ¡°I am still not very accustomed to the environment of this era, so please do not hold it against me if I retreat early.¡±

    That¡¯s a satisfactory answer, right?

    ¡°What was that about retreating early?¡± A noblewoman¡¯s smooth voice pitches in. She¡¯s aged gracefully with short faded brown hair framing her cheeks and pleasingly attractive age lines beside her surprised lips lightly tinted a more neutral red. Upon her neck is a single string of fine pearls so as not to distract from her more naturally plump face. Her dress seems much more layered, poofier than mine and¡ªvia a quick glance¡ªother ladies, of a more muted color and devoid of pattern. I can see why, it¡¯s as if every article and accessory she¡¯s worn is simply to draw attention to her hypnotizing, opalite eyes. ¡°Oh my dear, you¡¯ve only just arrived, Your Holiness!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve misheard me, Madame,¡± I correct with a smile. ¡°I was simply telling this gentleman that retreating early may be possible, as I do seem to tire easily these days.¡±

    A lie, somewhat. Now that two have approached me, it seems other nobles have grown more comfortable with coming closer and joining in conversation¡ªoverwhelmingly so.

    ¡°Your Holiness, pardon me, but¡­¡±

    ¡°Your Holiness, is it true that¡­!¡±

    ¡°Your Holiness, what do you think about¡­¡±

    ¡°Your Holiness¡­!¡±

    My mind begins to spin and I can feel myself fluster at the sudden surge of people, staggering a bit as it overwhelms me. I try to retain a polite smile, wrapping my head around the individual questions involving me. But it all is beginning to blur together, making me dizzy and confused.

    ¡°I apologize sincerely, but could you please repeat¡­¡±

    ¡°All of you, control yourselves! Have you so quickly lost your dignity, and have resorted to behaving like common street children?¡±

    A woman¡¯s voice interrupts, bold and filled with self-assured confidence. My eye is drawn away immediately to a woman around my height approaching, long and wavy sunkissed strawberry blonde hair rippling behind every dignified step. Light airy bangs lightly curl inward slightly past her eyebrows, parting in the middle to allow a clearer view of her face. Her fair skin devoid of blush allows her piercing rosen viper-like eyes and lip rouge to passionately shine through, stealing your attention. One quick glance around the room and I can tell no one dares to attempt the kind of crimson red she evokes, her magnificent and boldly red gown decorated in rubies with gilded accents. The image of a maiden bewitching the world at her feet conjures in my mind, along with a befitting and familiar word¡ªVenus.

    ¡°If you continue to behave like starved commoners, you¡¯ll overwhelm the poor thing.¡±

    Her dark heels clack against the polished ballroom floor closer to me, leaning over with a fan pressed against her chin as she eyes me intently, long lashes shadowing her gaze. Normally someone like this would overwhelm me, the confident air she carries and her beauty alone. But my awestruck eyes dim as words continue to spill from her mouth carelessly. Bite your tongue, and bear with it.

    ¡°Hm. This is the Saintess everyone¡¯s made a fuss over? Well,¡± she huffs, backing off and turning her head with heavy eyelashes. ¡°At the very least, she has a decent face.¡±

    Just a few simple, offhanded words from her and I can tell there is a shift in the small crowd around us. Especially the young noblewomen, their presence almost withering as their excitement visibly falters like a flickering candle. Those little reactions, unconscious and instinctual, is already enough to tell me what kind of power she wields. A brilliant, one of a kind rose nurtured in a beloved garden outshines any others, after all.

    ¡°Lady Venus,¡± a more calm and collected voice, neutral and almost cool in tone pools out.

    I almost didn¡¯t notice, as my gaze was instantly caught by the rose-like noble lady. But my attention is captured once again, an opposite beauty accompanying her with an entirely different demeanor. The noblewoman¡¯s darkened lavender hair is more straight in texture, silky and smooth like a veil behind her. Only a few strands and delicately cut blunt bangs frame her face, her skin somehow paler than Lady Venus¡¯, a cooler tone like a porcelain doll¡¯s. She has thinner eyebrows and short eyelashes, but her gaze is equally petrifying with sharp, rubellite tourmaline eyes and a unique lavender rouge. Rather than Lady Venus¡¯ passionate and bright presence, the noblewoman beside her is more of an ethereal and quiet beauty, mystifying in appearance yet somehow unclear just like the moon¡¯s reflection upon water. You could almost call her gaze upon you cold, or is it just uncaring?

    ¡°Inciting needless excitement is tiring.¡±

    Lady Venus then bites back, ¡°Everything is tiring when it comes to you, Lady Calliope.¡±

    It¡¯s a sharp, casual tone. Is that something you can so easily say to someone¡¯s face? Lady Calliope doesn¡¯t even flinch. Lady Venus steps away for a moment, curtsying ever so slightly.

    ¡°Blessings and glory upon The Saintess. I am of the Kaimos Countdom, Venus Kaimos, the...¡±

    I don¡¯t miss the strange pause, a small hiccup of what seemed like reluctance.

    ¡°... second, daughter.¡±

    ¡°... At ease,¡± I simply reply with a stiff smile. Those in lower rank greet those of higher status in such a manner, while those who are of equal status or of closer relationship greet each other more personally. I only know that because Father prided at the nobles practically groveling beneath him. He also would have rather died than to refer to me as an equal so I had to greet him in a formal manner, too. The current pope greeting me in general surprised me since usually the one of higher rank isn¡¯t supposed to greet the lower ranked person.

    Of course, I¡¯m not used to being the recipient of such a formal greeting. At all. So I can¡¯t help but squirm away ever so slightly.

    Beside Lady Venus, Lady Calliope curtsies lightly herself.

    ¡°Calliope Sirenia of the Sirenia Dukedom.¡±

    For a moment, I thought she was stifling a yawn. Her introduction was less detailed than Venus¡¯, more to the point. I also vaguely note she does not greet me formally, pleasantly enough. That could mean a few things¡ªthat perhaps she does not care, or that she counts herself and Venus as a pair?

    A small glance at Lady Venus¡¯ abhorrent expression tells me it may¡­ be none of those.

    ¡°Lady Calliope, must I remind you to uphold noble decorum? Do you truly wish to compose yourself like this crowd of excited, boorish children?¡±

    Although I am completely inexperienced in reading nobility, even I can sense the building discord as her words rattle on. The lady herself isn¡¯t ignorant to it either.

    Lady Venus in her passionate rouge clicks her tongue. ¡°What? Am I wrong? The only nobility who properly greeted Her Holiness was the esteemed Marquess Per¨ªmene!¡±

    ¡°But Lady Venus¡­¡± the lavender haired noblewoman calmly begins. ¡°You spoke crudely to Her Holiness before greeting her as well¡­¡±

    The viper-like blonde seems to freeze for a fraction of a moment.

    ¡°Lady Calliope is correct in this matter, Lady Venus. Even if you are a dear friend, it remains impertinent to condemn others for acts you, too, have committed.¡±

    It¡¯s a woman¡¯s voice¡ªsmooth with a warm hum, a bit lower in tone. Level, not as bold and demanding as Lady Venus¡¯; yet in just a single sentence holds just as much, if not more, power. However¡­ there was a certain pleasantness in her voice. One of graceful elegance¡ªsimilar, yet so very different, to Lady Calliope¡¯s. The woman did not need to shout for her dignified voice to be heard. I could tell in the way the nobles around us began to quiet, but not in the way they did when Lady Venus spoke. There was an almost collective sigh that rippled among the crowd. Lady Venus¡¯ expression shifts to what I¡¯d almost say is similar to a pout, while Lady Calliope lowers her eyes. Even the pair of beautiful noblewomen who made their grand entrance seemed to step aside and part like waves at the sound of her voice.

    As her heels clacked upon the polished crystal-like ballroom floor, the golden sheen of her ball gown¡¯s fabric swayed softly with each step she took. Underneath the top aureate fabric donning a delicate rosen pattern, intricate lace frills feathered the bottom of the gown¡¯s petticoat, gingerly dancing across the reflective marble. The same kind of lightly cinched lace spread across her shoulders and above her chest. Lining her bodice are beaded lines of small, pristine white pearls, matching the string of pearls decorating her brooch and choker. Her brooch itself seems to be made of a dark, dull material to give emphasis on the white rose engraved into it. It¡¯s strange. The minimal use of glittering gemstones somehow makes her allure all the more grand.

    In contrast to her very light colored and radiant gown, the dark of her long and wavy hair is enchanting. An almost purplish, violet hue that glistens a rosy pink upon the chandeliers¡¯ gleam. It¡¯s akin to sunrise¡ªno, more like when the sun falls back beyond the horizon at dusk, and the iridescent sky¡¯s crimson fades into night. It¡¯s all consuming, the way the waves of her hair are like the flickering of a flame in eternal darkness. A few sections of her hair are divided into separate delicate braids, collecting behind her and forming almost a rose behind her head.

    As she gradually approaches me, I can feel my breath hitch up into my throat. Even from here, I can see how smooth her skin is from her face alone, a warm reddish-brown, as her hands are gloved with silken white. She¡¯s a little more than half a head taller than me. Her face is a bit more broad, a dorsal hump on her nose, and what looks like a small red mark on her forehead. Her upper lip, more full in comparison than her lower, glistens ever so slightly in the light. Like the other two attractive noblewomen, the rouge upon her lips is a unique color, a berry-like magenta. Unlike the other two though, while equally bold and outstanding, the rouge of this woman¡¯s feels most natural on her. Finely applied with an exquisite touch, rather than a display of uniqueness, it seems to amplify her natural charm.

    But, what I find most mesmerizing are her eyes. Just above a small dark mole on her right side, lay a treasure. It¡¯s different, not really gold, yet just as precious. Underneath the dark lashes with the slightest tint of dusk, the woman¡¯s eyes are like crystalized honey with an intelligent amber gleam. They don¡¯t quite glitter like the faces of a polished gemstone. Her eyes feel more like a glass ball containing the ocean¡¯s tides. Swaying back and forth, melting into each other like the sun¡¯s reflection upon the waves¡¯ surface at sunset. But it¡¯s not a rough storm, no, the sea is calm and tranquil on a clear day. It¡¯s as if I am being sucked in, consumed by the swirl of colors. A certain air of elegance sets her apart from the others. Something about the way she holds herself, the way she breathes softly yet holds herself firm. The woman¡¯s image is easy on the eyes, yet I can¡¯t bring myself to look away. Rather, is it the fact that I do not want to? I find it difficult to breathe, yet simply gazing upon her breathes life into me. Can a woman¡¯s presence be so breathtaking, to where words like ¡®beautiful¡¯ seem insulting?

    The woman¡¯s eyelids close as she grasps a delicate pinch full of her ballgown¡¯s skirt, extending that arm while lowering herself slightly in a curtsy with the opposite hand hovering against her chest. Her pronounced lips thinly coated in berry-magenta rouge part slightly in time with her breath, sharp marbled honey orbs barely peeking from underneath her fluttered eyelashes. The gentle intensity from her gaze is easily enough to set off the flush of heat I¡¯ve been feeling upon my cheeks, and I can¡¯t help but take an uncertain step backwards.

    ¡°Blessings and glory upon her Holiness, Mayari.¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­ uhm, yes, at¡­ ease. You are Lady Rishita, I assume?¡±

    I can feel my cheeks warm more at my sudden inability to form words. The woman¡¯s eyes blink once before she straightens her posture back to its original state. Folding her arms over the other, she gazes at me contemplatively before her lips spread into what looks like a mildly amused smile with a vague tilt of her head.

    ¡°It is a great honor that Your Holiness knows of me, given your awakening being most recent.¡±

    ¡°Lady Rishita¡¯s mature beauty shines most brilliantly, doesn¡¯t it?¡±

    What that girl said was an understatement. A mature beauty? Obvious enough. Brilliant? Definitely. And yet, and yet¡ªno, I don¡¯t think anyone¡¯s words could have prepared my heart.

    My only immediate response is to laugh awkwardly with a hand raised.

    ¡°Oh, no¡ªit was just moments ago when I heard of you. I¡¯m still very much ignorant to nobility, so¡­¡±

    ¡°Even so,¡± Lady Rishita trails off, making the grand nerve-wracking decision to approach me more. My breath gets caught up in my throat and I find myself stiffening as she comes closer. It¡¯s noticeably quieter around us, and I can only pray no one is watching as intensely as I think. I just can¡¯t help but act like a fool. Sharp inhale. My mind is in disarray, spinning with a haze at being around someone so blindingly divine. Why are the nobility filled with pretty women? ¡°The fact Your Holiness has found my name memorable is an honor in itself, no?¡±

    ¡°P¡­ perhaps?¡±

    The dusken haired noblewoman is god knows how many inches away before her amused smile seems to fall just a bit. Her eyes narrow and eyebrows furrow, her lips parting softly as she draws in a breath.

    ¡°... Moonflower?¡±

    There¡¯s a hand light on my shoulder gently pulling me backwards.

    ¡°Lady Liakada, please refrain from making the Saintess uncomfortable.¡±

    I glance over to see a few golden strands near my shoulder. Following the familiar braid up to the slightly messy head of blonde hair, my eyes meet his green.

    ¡°Your Highness¡­?¡±

    He offers his usual goofy smile after a moment. Oh god, I got distracted from the plan. I can feel my cheeks finally cool off as I straighten my line of sight. Lady Rishita has straightened her back, even backing a step or two away. Her smile has dropped in the few seconds I¡¯ve looked away, a more serious and callous expression replacing her amusement. Lady Rishita¡¯s eyelids fall and she lowers into a curtsy once again.

    ¡°Blessings and Glory to Your Highness.¡±

    ¡°At ease.¡± It¡¯s his usual tone, but what is it? It¡¯s just a bit different in feeling somehow in an unexplainable way. The hand on my shoulder falls away and he smiles at me. ¡°I apologize for touching you so suddenly, Your Holiness. Please forgive me for that, but I¡¯m sure you must be overwhelmed.¡±

    There¡¯s a strange look in his eyes.

    Oh!

    ¡°His Highness is right. It was enjoyable talking to everyone, but I do think I need to rest for a moment,¡± I say with a wry smile.

    ¡°There are a few balconies, you can take a quiet breather out there.¡±

    ¡°Your Highness.¡± Lady Rishita addresses Iliazo in an almost¡­ firm tone? Her eyes are less lustrous, a colder sheen in opposition to the honey-like warmth from only a moment ago. ¡°It has been about an hour since the ball has begun.¡±

    ¡°... Yes. It is about time to start the first dance. Shall we reconvene then, everyone?¡± Prince Iliazo turns away broadly with a smile in an open gesture. I keep my head lower as the nobles more closely around us begin to erupt once again in conversation with one another. Iliazo glances over at me for a split second with a nod, and I gradually step away as groups seem to form. As I make my way carefully past crowds of people, my eyes can¡¯t seem to leave them.

    Tearing my eyes away, I hold my breath quietly while maneuvering through until I reach what I believe is one of the ballroom walls. To my relief, between two large supportive pillars from the very tall ceiling to the marble floor is a double glass door. Dragging my fingertips against the window-like panels, I trace down to the brass handles. Before I push down, the growing melody of the orchestra¡¯s music begins to echo throughout the hall. Looking over my shoulder, while a good number of the nobility gathered linger around the sides of the ballroom, the groups of nobles in the middle of the hall have split into numerous pairs. Among the men and women bowing to one another, a couple in particular catch my eye, radiating more brilliantly than the rest.

    The music grows more spirited, and the pairs join together in calculated steps and turns. Even still, the pair in particular I can still easily spot among them all.

    I didn¡¯t think the prince could dance. It¡¯s a vague thought that crosses my mind first. Naturally, as the prince he would be able to, but his demeanor really didn¡¯t strike me as what I expected of nobility. Lady Rishita¡¯s dancing is impeccable in itself, but in time with his is almost like¡­

    ¡°That¡¯s our future emperor and empress for you.¡±

    The quiet gossiping of nearby noblewomen¡ªyounger than me it seems¡ªcatches my attention.

    ¡°I was worried they had fought since they hadn¡¯t appeared in public for a while together, but here they are dancing perfectly in time with one another.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a given of course! Lady Rishita has always been perfect for the empress seat. I don¡¯t think I can imagine anyone else beside His Highness.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ve been betrothed since childhood, after all. I don¡¯t think anyone can¡ªshe is the Liakada Dukedom¡¯s only daughter.¡±

    So they¡¯re fiances. But¡­

    I think back to their interaction just moments ago. The strangeness I sensed from Prince Iliazo, and the change in demeanor from Lady Rishita¡­

    With the inhale of a breath, I shake my head. Don¡¯t linger on business that isn¡¯t yours. I¡¯ve done enough of that. Pressing the brass handle of the glass door, I push forward to have a moment of solitude, still in relatively close proximity to the people gathered inside the ballroom.

    Yes. Enough distractions.

    I suck in a breath, and with a slow exhale, focus on spreading out my divinity.

    Shivani. Just a little longer.

 Chapter Six: According to Plan

    ¡°Your move.¡±

    Peering at the black and white board placed between us, I can only stare intently at the carved and painted black figures that belong to my side.

    ¡°Please go easy on me, Your Highness. You¡¯re supposed to be teaching me Chess.¡±

    ¡°I am teaching you.¡±

    With a quick glare, I reply with an exasperated sigh, ¡°You seem to be taking pleasure in teaching me how to lose, rather than teaching me how to play.¡±

    The crown prince of the Ouranos Empire grins with a joyful laugh as I muddle through frustrating possibilities of where to move my black pieces. His Highness¡¯ white pieces greatly outnumber mine. A lot of mine were taken off the board early in the game. All that remains are the black king, who¡¯s remained in the same place since the beginning; the queen, who I¡¯ve been moving around the most; one of the black knights; a black bishop, and two pawns. The black bishop who was on my right was destroyed by one of the prince¡¯s white knights¡ªthe most unpredictable pieces, in my opinion. At the very least, before the black bishop¡¯s death, I¡¯d managed to take out both of His Highness¡¯ white bishops.

    I even took out Iliazo¡¯s white queen, though I¡¯m starting to think he let me. After all, he quickly crowned one of his pawns to take her place, and she¡¯s been taking out my pieces one by one. The black bishop I have left, who was on my left side, is currently being trapped by the new queen. Both of my rooks were taken out by His Highness¡¯ pawns, and both of his are completely safe. In fact, I¡¯m a bit nervous since one of his rooks has been trailing my queen for a while now.

    With hesitation, I move my queen once again. It was either her, or the black bishop. I brace myself for the prince to take out my last bishop, but instead he uses the white rook to take out one of my pawns leaving only one left.

    ¡°But why?¡±

    Iliazo shrugs.

    ¡°You said to go easy on you.¡± I did. But now that he¡¯s giving mercy this late in the game with a throwaway move, it just leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Which is odd, since I usually like bitter things. Perhaps because I¡¯m well aware that it¡¯s disguised with something sweet, and he obviously knows I¡¯m trapped. His Highness smiles. ¡°What? Did you not like that?¡±

    ¡°I want to play, Your Highness.¡± Moving my bishop a tile away, I look over the board. One more move, and my last bishop can meet the white queen. ¡°Not to be played around with.¡±

    The golden blonde man glances at the board for a second before bursting into laughter.

    ¡°If you say so.¡±

    In my blindness, he blocks my last bishop with his king, incapacitating it completely and taking it off the board. I peer at the monochrome board with a mix of shock and confusion.

    ¡°I¡ª¡± My head is a blur and it feels as if it hasn¡¯t completely processed yet. ¡°¡ªI didn¡¯t¡­¡±

    ¡°The king has limited movement,¡± Iliazo says, plucking away the black bishop. There¡¯s a humorous glint in the prince¡¯s green eyes as he grins. ¡°But only fools would underestimate him.¡±

    ¡°But,¡± I reason. ¡°The game isn¡¯t over, yet.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± he says, setting the bishop down. ¡°You are right about that.¡±

    I mull over the chess board intently. Both of my bishops are dead. All my pawns but one are gone, too. My queen is no longer being chased, but that could change at any moment with how many of the white pieces there are. The rooks by her side have been defeated for a while now. She¡¯s really close to the king, too, so the situation could turn bad at any moment. And then the knight is¡­

    ¡°So,¡± His Highness suddenly speaks. ¡°What¡¯s your plan?¡±

    ¡°Bold of you to assume I¡¯ve developed ¡®plans¡¯ for chess, Your Highness.¡±

    ¡°No, not that,¡± he chuckles. ¡°Your plan involving your ¡®Unknown¡¯.¡±

    ¡°Ah¡­¡± My voice trails off as I haphazardly move my queen. The crown prince¡¯s eyes glance up to mine as he leans over with his hand hovering over the board.

    ¡°You mentioned it was unsuccessful, did you not?¡±

    I slump backwards into the chair, casting my gaze up to the room¡¯s tall ceiling as I recall last night¡¯s events. Sunlight pours in from the incredibly tall window, and yet I don¡¯t feel warm in the slightest.

    ¡°It¡¯d be a lot easier if it was¡­¡±

    I suck in a breath, and with a slow exhale, focus on spreading out my divinity. Through the dark night, I can feel it wrap around and flow past the walls and windows, flooding into the grand hall. It spreads thinly, passing through every person. Like whispers, I can feel the low vibrations of the music and laughter within the ballroom. It¡¯s indecipherable, muddling together, and the fragments of conversations overlap one another into white noise. I can¡¯t allow myself to drown, or else I¡¯ll get lost in it. Let go, and let everything flow. Let the cool water ripple.

    Exhaling softly, I pull in the excess of my divinity back within me. Opening my eyes, I can only lean against the balcony railing. It¡¯s all still. There are people, but there is no divine response back. It¡¯s eerie and unnerving, a forever expanse of ocean without any waves. And yet, and yet¡­

    I open my eyes back to the luxurious palace ceiling.

    How could it be that I could sense the slightest bit of warmth in that stillness? Traces of sunlight, that familiar trickle of divinity that completes me? And without a response back? It wasn''t like that day at the market, where there was a clear echo in response. That night, it was faint. As if it was present all around me, divinity without a castor¡ªyet I know the castor well. After all, how can it be possible to feel the sun¡¯s warmth without the sun¡¯s light?

    ¡°Shivani¡­ where are you?¡±

    ¡°What was that, Your Holiness?¡±

    With a jolt, I quickly straightened my back and turned my eyes back to the chess board.

    ¡°Nothing, just mumbling to¡­¡± My eyes quickly scan the board again, and then to the fallen black pieces on the prince¡¯s side of the miniature table. ¡°Wha¡­ when did you take my queen?!¡±

    His Highness leans over with a laugh, reaching out to tap his white queen with a gloved hand.

    ¡°If you hadn¡¯t let your guard down, you could have saved her. My queen is the easiest to control after all. Well,¡± the prince chuckles, retracting his hand. ¡°Even without the white queen, nearly any of my pieces could have taken your black queen out.¡±

    Grumbling to myself, I slouch over while glaring at the chess board. It¡¯s true. One of the white rooks could have attacked my queen. Two of his white knights also could have conquered if needed, but in the end, the white queen was the one who took the black queen¡¯s life. All I have left is a pawn, a knight, and the king.

    ¡°What are you going to do?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. I think I¡¯m done for.¡±

    ¡°Not in chess,¡± Iliazo smiles. ¡°Since you couldn¡¯t meet your ¡®Unknown¡¯, what are you going to do, now?¡±

    Gazing at the board, I finally decide to move my last black knight. It was something. Not a lot, but something. There wasn¡¯t a response from Shivani¡¯s divinity, but the fact I could still feel Shivani at all means something surely, right? Then I can¡¯t stop.

    ¡°I have to keep doing it,¡± I resolve, placing my knight resolutely and retracting my hand. ¡°Attending balls and meeting nobles.¡±

    I pull my fingers into a light fist. It¡¯s going to be hard. But the little response I did get means Shivani was definitely within those premises where only nobles and servants gathered. It¡¯s the difficult path, one I hoped I wouldn¡¯t have to take, but¡­

    If it¡¯s for Shivani, I¡¯d walk barefoot in the thorny garden of high society if I have to.

    After all, I reminisce, the silhouette of battered armor flickering in my memory. Shivani was the kind of person who would do the same.

    My black knight is nearly surrounded, narrowly escaping the special white pawns¡¯ reach. But if I make one or two moves, and His Highness moves anything but his king¡­

    It¡¯s risky, only because my king is just as vulnerable. Glancing up at the prince, I¡¯m sure he¡¯s aware of that. He¡¯s better at chess after all, and I only started nearly an hour ago. His Highness¡¯ eyes, like peridots, are glazing over the monochrome board with his fingers curled against his chin in thought.

    ¡°If you plan to continue to jump into the turbulence of high society,¡± he says, almost mumbling under his breath. Iliazo¡¯s eyes flicker up to meet mine for a split second before spreading his lips into a smile. He reaches a hand out, but instead of gravitating to a specific piece, he uses the side of his hand to swipe the pieces to the side. ¡°We should get you properly prepared for the future.¡±

    ¡°What? The game hasn¡¯t even ended yet,¡± I sputter.

    ¡°We can always play another time. Slower. Besides, it¡¯s better to start your noble etiquette early,¡± Iliazo reasons, resetting the board. He looks up at me. ¡°It was going to be your loss in the end, anyway.¡±

    Standing up while pushing the chair back, I straighten myself with huff. ¡°You don¡¯t know that.¡±

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    A vague smile.

    ¡°It was about time you left, either way. The carriage from the Temple will arrive to pick you up soon.¡±

    ¡°Right¡­¡± I drift off as we begin to step into the hall. Not so excited for that. I¡¯m expecting to be locked in ¡®my bedroom¡¯ under the guise of recuperating after a stressful evening. That¡¯s what Father would have done, if I had spent a day ¡®outside¡¯ without permission. Granted, I would have had to have been bold enough to do so in the first place. I can already clearly imagine the cold, irritated gaze of that gray haired paladin. I don¡¯t mind being disliked, but it¡¯s still uncomfortable being forced to be around people who do.

    Pinching a bit of my skirt fabric, his sneer becomes more visible when I imagine riding back in this. I don¡¯t think the temple will really take too kindly to me returning in flashy clothing. Not that it¡¯s flashy in the slightest. Compared to the dress I wore last night it¡¯s much more simple. Definitely more comfortable and less shiny, lighter too. Covers more, but it¡¯s of similar comfort to the battle dress I¡¯d worn on my journey. But it still has color with the lightest of print, which is already a contrast to the temple¡¯s flat monochrome.

    Yeah. I¡¯m definitely going to have to change when I return.

    ¡°You seem to have a lot to think about.¡±

    I blink away my thoughts as I glance quickly to his highness, Iliazo, who walks very slightly ahead of me. His hair is in a loose, low ponytail it seems today. I already took note of it before, but the prince has very long hair.

    ¡°Nothing of importance,¡± I reply honestly.

    There are people approaching from the opposite side of the hallway. Two. Trailing slightly behind, a young woman wearing a more plain dress with little decoration, similar to mine. The woman in front of her, however¡­

    My eyes meet hers, swallowing a small gulp of air as they approach. Even while wearing a less extravagant gown, her beauty shines just as much as last night. Under the natural lighting, each strand of her dusken hair reflects a mystic sheen as she lowers her head in a vague bow.

    ¡°Blessings and glory upon Her Holiness and His Highness.¡±

    Her eyelashes flutter open, sunlight pouring into her ethereal honey irises. Simply gazing into them makes my cheeks feel warm, and my chest, tingly.

    ¡°What a surprise. You don¡¯t take walks within the palace often, Lady Liakada.¡±

    Iliazo seems to talk to her directly in his usual airy tone. He has his usual smile, too. Flickering between them, it still doesn¡¯t seem quite right though in an inexplicable way. Lady Rishita also feels a bit odd. There¡¯s an almost cold apathy in her eyes, still and unresponsive. Her stare is strong and unwavering, not turning away from His Highness for a moment. Lady Rishita¡¯s eyes close.

    ¡°Ladies don¡¯t tend to take ¡®leisure¡¯ walks inside the palace, but I have been busy trying to find Your Highness. We were to meet this morning, after all.¡± For a fleeting moment, Lady Rishita¡¯s gaze flickers over to me. It was so sudden that I couldn¡¯t help but flinch in surprise. ¡°But I see you were with Her Holiness instead.¡±

    The crown prince shifts his posture slightly, scratching his cheek lightly with his finger.

    ¡°Ah¡­ were we? It must have slipped my mind. I may have had one too many drinks last night.¡± A light embarrassed expression shows on Iliazo¡¯s face. ¡°You know I don¡¯t hold my alcohol very well.¡±

    Was His Highness drunk this morning? He did suddenly barge in earlier, urging for a few games of chess. It was so sudden that the maids who¡¯d been assigned to me during my stay fervently rushed to get me ready for his arrival.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Lady Rishita. I had no idea I was holding His Highness up,¡± I apologize guiltily. I would have turned the offer down if I knew he had an appointment, and with his fianc¨¦ of all people. Lady Rishita¡¯s gaze lingers on mine for a moment, before she looks away.

    ¡°Her Holiness has no need to worry about our problems. We were merely going to discuss matters involving our future. That can easily be prolonged a day or two.¡±

    That sounds¡­ awfully important, doesn¡¯t it? Between a betrothed couple? I can feel heat rising to my cheeks, raising my fingers.

    ¡°It¡¯s alright! I¡¯m leaving for the temple right now, anyway! Lady Rishita and His Highness can¡ª¡±

    ¡°Actually,¡± the prince suddenly interrupts. ¡°Lady Liakada¡¯s arrival is perfect.¡±

    I look at His Highness with eyebrows raised in confusion. Arrival? Your Fianc¨¦ ¡®arrived¡¯ long ago, Your Highness!

    ¡°Lady Liakada, please teach the Saintess noble etiquette from now on.¡±

    He says it so casually with his usual smile that I couldn¡¯t seem to comprehend what he meant. Even Lady Rishita appears puzzled, and the expression of the young woman beside her falls into a narrow-eyed frown.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Your Highness?¡±

    ¡°The Saintess plans to enter high society officially, but I¡¯m sure as you could tell from last night¡­¡± Iliazo glances over to me as I give him a stare. ¡°Her Holiness needs experience, as well as a personal example.¡±

    I blink, and it finally settles in. With my mouth gaping open I can only look at the prince incredulously.

    ¡°Your Highness, you want your fianc¨¦ to teach me etiquette?¡±

    His expression falters for a fraction of a second. You could almost miss it.

    ¡°... I see no problem with that,¡± His Highness grins. ¡°It¡¯s normal for noblewomen to mentor their juniors. Lady Liakada has been educated in noble etiquette since we were young, even by my mother personally when she was alive. She is the most perfect candidate for the Empress seat, after all.¡±

    Being born a thousand years ago aside, that isn¡¯t my biggest gripe here. After all, most of my ¡®higher¡¯ education came from priestesses and deaconesses¡ªthough it was less teaching and more chastising. Older women teaching those younger than them isn¡¯t unusual for me at all. Something about this is still strange, however, seeing as Lady Rishita¡¯s companion remains aghast.

    ¡°That¡¯s not really¡­ what I¡¯m worried about,¡± I drift off. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t someone like the Madame work better?¡±

    You know, instead of your fianc¨¦?

    ¡°Madame Varda won¡¯t do. The nobles wouldn¡¯t be comfortable if word got out the Saintess is getting taught etiquette by a commoner,¡± he gently explains. Iliazo chooses his words carefully, as if to deliver them lightly. Even so, I¡¯m not so foolish to ignore its hidden meaning. I press my lips together. Buying lavish dresses from a commoner is alright, but being taught by one is looked down upon? This implication, as well as Lady Venus¡¯ crude words that came so easily¡ªI see the relationship between ¡®upper¡¯ class and ¡®lower¡¯ class hasn¡¯t changed at all. We have no use or value, if only to make those in power look better.

    My souring expression shines clear as the prince¡¯s smile falls. He looks away and meets Lady Rishita¡¯s eyes though I cannot see his face as it¡¯s turned.

    ¡°There are more important factors, too. Many nobles will have twisted intentions, and may go about them by approaching you or bribing those who attend to you,¡± Prince Iliazo adds. His tone seems to change, ever so slightly. ¡°At the very least, I can trust Lady Liakada. Which is why I beseech you¡ªplease begin mentoring Her Holiness, Lady Rishita Liakada.¡±

    A barely audible scoff, stifled by the high ranking noblewoman. Flickering back to Lady Rishita, her expression seems serious and deep in contemplation. Otherwise, her face is unreadable and it¡¯s unknown whether she takes His Highness¡¯ words positively or not. The woman accompanying her glances between her and the prince warily as well. Lady Rishita does not move, nor make a sound for a while. Her eyebrows furrow in resignation, pressing her lips into a firm line.

    After a moment, Lady Rishita¡¯s berry-majenta lips part and she lowers her head.

    ¡°... If His Highness wishes for it, I will oblige.¡±

    ????

    The ride back to the temple was about as agonizing as I imagined. Despite my hope, the gray-haired paladin stood vigilantly by the temple¡¯s carriage when I went out into the palace¡¯s entrance. He gave a pointed stare with a scrunched up nose before averting his eyes. I expected that kind of reaction though, so while I was disappointed, I wasn¡¯t surprised.

    What did surprise me on the way back though, was that my carriage was being escorted by three paladins¡ªwhich was more paladins than the two that escorted the pope.

    I should start planning my escape, my thoughts ran while my stomach turned inside the carriage. No, I can¡¯t worsen my chances of finding Shivani.

    The carriage finally stops before the steps to the temple¡¯s main grounds. A tall, looming staircase brushed pristine every day with decorative pillars haunts me. The multiple temple buildings are clear even from down here, waiting like a prison. I feel like a child again. Perhaps I didn''t pay attention the first time, but now with a conscious mind, an ominous bell in my chest keeps tolling and the hairs on my skin stand on edge. The door pulls away from the carriage and a hand lightly stretches out. I brace myself for the judgemental stare of the gray-haired paladin. The palm is a bit smaller, though. Lifting my gaze, a woman with hazelnut brown eyes waits with a vague smile. She¡¯s shorter in stature with a larger physique, her rounded face framed with small dark blonde curls that collect into a ponytail behind her neck.

    ¡°Your Holiness?¡±

    ¡°... ah, yes.¡± I smile politely, trying to compose myself yet the sick feeling in my stomach can¡¯t seem to go away. Tentatively, I reach my fingers out. At the very least, there are female paladins now. Father seeked out divine power, but he would turn away girls with potential and train them to be priestesses instead. Come to think of it, wasn¡¯t I similar? I was taught to predominantly use my divinity for healing, while Kaspar used his divinity offensively. For a great while, even as the daughter of god, my divinity was weak and could only manage that.

    My heart palpitates as an electric shock dances upon my skin when our hands meet, and I quickly flick my hand from the paladin¡¯s, falling back into the carriage. It was just a little shock, static. I know it was, but even that is enough to remind me of that feeling again. Why so easily? Because I¡¯m here, in this place? I¡¯m nauseous. He trained me to be a healer, yet was the exact reason why it has become so difficult.

    A stick drags into the dry dirt, engraving careful words almost hidden by night.

    [¡ª... doesn¡¯t it?]

    With a shaky breath, I inhale while bringing my curled fingers to my lips. The female paladin looks back at me with a confused look, in which I can only force a smile in response.

    ¡°I know my way back. Just¡ªjust, let me rest for a little bit.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure, Your Holiness? I can wait here if you¡­¡±

    ¡°Leave Her Holiness be,¡± comes the gray-haired paladin¡¯s voice, a bit farther off I think. ¡°If it¡¯s what she desires, we have no right to object. His Holiness is waiting for us, anyway.¡±

    The female paladin lingers for a moment, before turning around and making her way up the stairs. I bring my knees closer, staring down at the thicker fabric¡¯s folds. As the sound of their dense heels against the concrete fade away, I drown deeper into the resounding silence. Even then, there was a tiny part of me I didn¡¯t want to acknowledge¡ªthat maybe in that moment, I did want someone to stay, no matter who it was. Who knew it could be so cold in the shadows?

    ¡°Shivani, just¡­ just a bit longer, right¡­?¡±

    ????

    A creak, and the door closes firmly. The few wait in silence, just for assurance. After all, one can never be too careful. The temple may be their domain, but that does not make them safe. Anyone could be watching, listening. And so, an unnecessarily long silence becomes necessary.

    ¡°We¡¯ve returned, Your Holiness.¡± Sir Ianglade is the first to speak, naturally. Always devout, be it to the divine or Selinas ka Surya. Despite his popularity, his eyes like shallow waves are cold. What can you expect, other than unyielding loyalty from the Pope¡¯s left hand?

    ¡°How is the Saintess?¡±

    ¡°She has returned peacefully, Your Holiness.¡±

    The female paladin of shorter stature and the taller paladin of tanned skin glance at each other with the vaguest of doubt. Though the pope is unable to see the expressions on his pupils'' faces, he does see the fluctuation of their divinity. Especially the woman¡¯s, whose divinity that is usually perfectly controlled with her resolve, wavers as the words leave Ianglade¡¯s mouth.

    ¡°Is that all, Dame Eirdis? Sir Vivace?¡±

    At being called upon directly by their master, the two paladins opposite of eachother share a look. Ianglade between them, doesn¡¯t flinch nor make any kind of reaction.

    ¡°¡­ Her Holiness seemed troubled,¡± Dame Eirdis, the female paladin speaks first.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s because of the Crown Prince, though,¡± Sir Vivace, the tanned blonde man chips in with a bouncy tone. ¡°Her Holiness seemed to enjoy her stay at the palace.¡±

    The implications of that say everything. Sir Ianglade¡¯s fingers twitch against his side before curling into a fist. His cerulean eyes glaze over in a cold frost, and the Saintess¡¯ temple garbs wrinkle in his other arm.

    ¡°What a disgrace.¡±

    A mere mutter under his breath, but it¡¯s heard clearly throughout the small room.

    ¡°Ian,¡± Selinas calls in a comforting tone. Ianglade¡¯s eyes dart upwards to meet his master¡¯s unfocused eyes. It¡¯s not often the pope refers to him with his nickname. ¡°I understand your sentiments about the Saintess. Be patient with her, she will come around eventually. She is precious after all, the Divine Surya¡¯s only daughter.¡±

    The pope¡¯s unfocused eyes slowly meet the others.

    ¡°This goes for you two as well. Her Holiness¡¯ awakening in this era is a divine blessing in itself, after all. But we must be vigilant, and can only prepare for when that day arrives.¡± A darker, murkiness lurks in Selinas'' gaze. Sir Ianglade¡¯s hold on the dress tightens as his eyes harden. Dame Eirdis and Sir Vivace¡¯s backs straighten at the mention of that day.

    ¡°Your Holiness shouldn¡¯t speak so gravely,¡± Sir Ianglade grumbles. ¡°Your Holiness is still the pope, and those in the temple will surely follow your example more than¡­ hers.¡±

    Pope Selinas ka Surya chuckles lightly.

    ¡°That may be true for now. But Surya may have different plans for the future, which is why we must be gentle with her if we wish to guide her in the right direction. We can only hope she makes the correct choice in the end, one that aligns with ours.¡± With a tilt of the head, Selinas smiles. ¡°Those are my orders as of now. Simple, yes? If my intentions are clear, you three are free to retreat for the night.¡±

    Unanimously, the three paladins lower their heads respectfully in unison before bidding the pope goodnight. One by one, the three loyal paladins leave the small and quiet office. Diving into the depths of the shadowed hallways of the building, they walk in silence as the moonlight begins to flicker over them.

    ¡°You aren¡¯t going to ask him?¡± Sir Vivace suddenly speaks.

    ¡°Ask him what?¡± Sir Ianglade responds monotonously.

    ¡°About¡­ Her Holiness¡¯ freedom,¡± Dame Eirdis clarifies. A dark and cold sheen glazes over Ianglade¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°His Holiness has made it clear. For now at least, what Her Holiness wishes, goes.¡± Even still, Ianglade clutches the discarded temple garbs that were worn by the Saintess. His cerulean eyes stare holes into the finely woven cloth of simple monochrome, pure and noble. That¡¯s how the people showed their devotion to the Divine Surya. That¡¯s how the Saintess was supposed to be as well.

    ¡°She is precious after all, the Divine Surya¡¯s only daughter.¡±

    Ianglade clenches his jaw and grits his teeth, the wrinkled fabric in his arms burning away into bright embers before diminishing into scattered ashes in the breeze.

    ¡°She should act like it, then.¡±

 Chapter Seven: The Insignificance of Man

    I received a new temple garb when I woke up, to my surprise. Charis arrived at my room with it folded neatly in her arms. It was the same as the last one, monochromatic with dull grays¡ªbut the fabric was a bit more smoothened out. The first one I had, I remember, was a bit rough on the edges and had some lint balls on the inner sleeves. No matter how cleanly you wash a piece of clothing, you can¡¯t magically erase such miniscule details in a day. She helped me change, something I¡¯m slowly getting used to, and then took the palace dress away.

    ¡°Where are you taking it?¡±

    Charis paused to look at me for a moment before smiling. Then, she wordlessly took it away. It left a bitter taste in my mouth, as I was planning to return it the next time I visited the palace. The dress didn¡¯t belong to me after all. It didn¡¯t take away from the strangeness of the general situation, though. I¡¯m pretty sure I remembered my old dress being handed to one of the paladins when I left the palace, but I guess that part isn¡¯t really much of a concern. They¡¯re all the same, anyway.

    If there¡¯s one thing that¡¯s changed the most though¡­

    With a quiet creak, I pull the door to my room open ever so slightly. Peering into the hallway, I narrow my eyes while slowly inhaling a breath. Exhaling, I spread out a thin mist of my divinity¡ªsomething I can easily dissipate. It¡¯s delicate, like the morning frost that melts at a single touch. Because of its instability, it scatters into nothing the moment it comes into contact with something similar to itself. In this case, my weak thread of divinity gets repelled and easily falls away once it meets another person¡¯s divinity. Just as I¡¯d thought. My divinity bounces off of something and easily disappears, as if it were never there to begin with.

    Whether it¡¯s a blessing or a curse, I¡¯m not being confined like I thought I would be. That doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m free to roam around though, it seems. I¡¯m definitely being watched. If I¡¯m going to be under surveillance, I would honestly prefer that said person would just guard my door upfront. At the very least, it¡¯s better than creepily hiding in an empty room or behind a wall. That¡¯s almost screaming you¡¯re being shady, isn¡¯t it? Do they think I am a fool? Judging by the response I got, it¡¯s not that gray haired paladin. While it¡¯s true all living beings have divinity, if it isn¡¯t a corrupted beast, my divinity can only be disturbed by someone who has dabbled with divinity. Otherwise, using my divinity to find Shivani in crowded places would be fruitless and overwhelming.

    Well. More fruitless than it already has been.

    The average commoner or noble doesn''t tend to get any sort of divinity training, at least that¡¯s how it was back in the era I lived in. It seems like that holds true now in any case, since I don¡¯t think I detected any other sources of divinity back in that ballroom despite the copious amount of nobles that attended. Even in the temple, where divinity training is encouraged, the amount of people actively able to wield divinity were very few. That¡¯s why talents and geniuses like Kaspar were valued and respected.

    Oh, that¡¯s right. Since I¡¯m going to be watched for a while, I may as well make use of this situation, right?

    Pulling the door to my room open, I spread out a thin mist of my divinity again, but a bit stronger¡ªthis time, to figure out their exact location. As my wave of divinity flows out, it blooms through the walls, into the empty rooms, and fills the corridor. A light ¡®click¡¯ and ¡®clack¡¯ from my boots dully resound in the hallway with a muted noise as I approach. My eyelids grow lax, closing as they fall as I lightly drag my fingertips against the slightly chalky texture of the marbled, stone brick walls. When I was younger, I¡¯d long memorized the old and gray stone bricks. They were cold, and sometimes slippery while occasionally lined with a thin layer of dead moss. Children were often sent to do menial chores to keep the place clean, since Father wouldn¡¯t dare spare any of the temple funds for cleaning. I¡¯m not surprised that the majority of the temple rooms and buildings have been renovated and rebuilt. Nonetheless, even though it looks a little different, it¡¯s evident from the dirt of my fingers to the trembling of my bones from the buildings¡¯ mere silhouette¡ªthe temple remains the same.

    My hand against the wall halts, and it falls to my side as I near the corner. There hasn¡¯t been any movement, but they must have noticed by now, surely? It¡¯s not the gray haired paladin after all, and I wasn¡¯t being careful with my divinity. One paladin, sure, but I¡¯d start doubting the temple¡¯s credibility if more than two of their best warriors can¡¯t detect the amount of divinity I had been sending out.

    ¡°Hey.¡±

    There¡¯s a light rustle of fabric almost in line with a jolt of surprise. I don¡¯t look past the corner though, averting my eyes haphazardly.

    ¡°I want to look through the Temple¡¯s Archive. Can you show me where it is?¡±

    A couple quick clacks against the floor as they come out from behind the corner.

    ¡°O¡­ Of course, Your Holiness.¡± It¡¯s the female paladin from yesterday, with her curled hair collected into a ponytail again. Freckles dot her cheeks in her fluster, her paladin¡¯s cloak swaying as she turns in a gesture. ¡°Right this way, Your Holiness.¡±

    Quietly, I trail behind her as she leads me through the uncanny temple hallways.

    Those stone walls and columns that collided in round arches seemed impenetrable in my youth. They were so thick, as if meant to silence my locked up cries, lit up only by the electric charges of my Father¡¯s sacrilege. The lighting strikes ended when divine intervention was passed and Surya announced me their daughter. Even so, the damage still crawls up my arms, the vine-like scars twisting against my skin with every step in this damned place. It stings, feeling the ghost of his breath on the back of my neck each time I help another with my divinity. A mere six years was all it took to completely destroy that girl, who left and returned to this kingdom as a corpse.

    Casting my gaze up, the musty scent of aged dust stings my nostrils. Such trivialities of the temple¡¯s past architecture were replaced with high, pointed arches that intertwined at the ceiling in ribbed vaults. It was as if it were the skeleton of a great beast, looming, with its chest cavity exposed. The altered material and thickness of the walls no longer muffle my breathing and footsteps. Instead, they now reverberate quietly, bouncing off the windowless walls and rippled narrow ceiling which resembled a monster¡¯s teeth-lined jaw. Candles light the geometric pillars, shadows of the past dancing upon every ridge before dissipating into the fickle twilight.

    If Shivani were the sun, perhaps Kaspar was like these candles¡ªwhose light emanates from your hands as momentary comfort from the foreboding darkness. Kaspar always burned bright after all, intensely so. Though he didn¡¯t need to, when he came with me on the journey he gave his all for even the smallest things, to the point it began to worry me. He was always the first to attack, reckless, with vigorous bursts of divinity. It was as if he were overcompensating for something, though I did not know what. We seemed to drift further apart the longer the journey went on. Perhaps he was homesick, as despite our closeness, our experiences in the temple were like night and day. If the temple was my damnation¡­

    The paladin takes a turn through the temple corridor, allowing my mind to wander to back then.

    ¡°Kaspar,¡± I called gently. It was a private conversation between the two of us, one we hadn¡¯t had for a long time, since we traveled in a party of five. Privacy was a luxury. Just the night before the final battle, I pulled him aside for a moment. ¡°How are you feeling?¡±

    ¡°As I usually do.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± he firmly responded, the midnight blue of his eyebrows narrowed just a bit. ¡°Why the sudden worry?¡±

    ¡°Listen, I¡­¡± I held my arm, fiddling with the fabric of my detached sleeves. ¡°I don¡¯t want you to rush like you always do, ok?¡±

    Kaspar¡¯s eyebrows narrowed as he closed his eyes in a stressed sigh.

    ¡°In that case, you need to stay behind and stick to healing.¡±

    ¡°Kaspar, you know I can¡¯t do that.¡± I remember the scars on my arms throbbing, pinching a piece of the fabric covering them. ¡°It¡¯s the main vessel this time, stronger than anything we¡¯ve fought before. You know that only me and Shivani can kill it for good.¡±

    ¡°Then you can easily leave it to that guy and lay low, I¡¯m sure he can handle the vessel just fine. He¡¯s the ¡®Sundrop Knight¡¯ after all.¡±

    ¡°And I am the Saintess!¡± I stressed. ¡°Listen, we don¡¯t know how many beasts there are going to be. Arcene is going to stay behind, so we won¡¯t have support from Ark. It¡¯s going to be just the four of us again, and I don¡¯t want you to get killed.¡±

    ¡°Then what about you, huh?¡±

    ¡°What do you mean, ¡®what about me¡¯?¡±

    Kaspar drew in a disgruntled inhale, turning away from me. His eyebrows furrowed, chaos bunched between them, as he closed his eyes tightly. He brought a hand up to massage the bridge of his nose¡ªan old habit of his that he picked up from Father, while the other was placed on his hip.

    ¡°This will be our last battle.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m aware of that.¡±

    ¡°We are so close to finally getting this over with.¡±

    ¡°Kaspar,¡± I rasped. ¡°What are you trying to say?¡±

    He hissed out a heavy, almost angry sigh, laced with irritation. Kaspar¡¯s nostrils flared as he opened his eyes to finally look at me clearly. Even then, I could tell. From the way his jaw clenched, how his calloused fingers worn from years of violent weapon use dug into his hip, and how his topaz eyes darkly ignited that he was frustrated with me.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you understand, Mayari?¡± His tone was venomous. I¡¯ve never heard him speak that way before, and it frightened me. ¡°I left the temple to protect you! We are so, so close to finally leaving this dirty and forsakened outside world. Once this battle is over with, the two of us can finally return to the temple, home, as heroes and I will not have you dying on me, now!¡±

    I remember that sudden dread, as if my stomach had dropped, and my heart sunk. By then, I already knew Kaspar had some personal reason for coming along. After all, the journey to purge corruption was supposed to be a job for only ¡®The Saintess¡¯ and the ¡®Sundrop Knight¡¯. Despite that, Kaspar had traveled and fought with us from the very beginning. I never thought anything of it, because Kaspar has always looked out for and comforted me. What left me with nagging guilt was that he thought I would come back to the temple with him after our journey was over. I couldn¡¯t tell him, not then, that I would never go back. How could I tell him that I wanted to live in this ¡®dirty¡¯ outside world he hated, and that I would part ways with him and go with Shivani?

    ¡°Kaspar, I¡­ I have no intention of dying!¡±

    ¡°Really, Mayari? I don¡¯t know anymore! You¡¯ve changed!¡± He threw his arm in a gesture as he took a step closer. ¡°It was fine in the beginning when you still kept to the back for support while I took the front, but these days you¡¯re always charging ahead straight into danger and actually fighting! You¡¯ve let this ¡®Saintess¡¯ thing get to your head, and it¡¯s made you foolish.¡±

    He forced a shaken exhale through his teeth. ¡°Don¡¯t you remember when we fought that other fragment? When you got your shoulder hit with corruption, and you were out for a week constantly writhing in pain, even as you slept? I get you have this divine healing or whatever, but dammit Mayari, just because you¡¯re God¡¯s Daughter doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯re a god, yourself!¡±

    His harsh words stung my eyes, flinching as guilt and doubt crept into my chest. In the beginning, I was like a doll simply doing what I¡¯d always been told. But, by the time the final battle with Corruption arrived, I truly grew into my role. Villagers united from being abandoned in the kingdom¡¯s outskirts, children laughing and making the most of their lives even in the darkest of days¡ªit was a reminder of what I wanted to protect. However, was that only arrogance? In my love for humanity, was I worrying the others and neglecting myself? I didn¡¯t know, not then, and not even now.

    Kaspar sighed, combing his hand through the midnight strands of his hair. ¡°Just stop¡ªstop going into places where I can¡¯t be there to protect you.¡±

    That tense silence between us grew thicker, like crystalized honey. Deep lines of frustration were ingrained on his face. It was as if he were waiting for my changed answer, and for just a split second, he reminded me of Father, though I did not know why. That thought scared me. I knew well after all¡ªthat Kaspar was so different from him. But no matter how much my heart wavered, my decision remained the same. So in a quiet, yet firm tone, I declared it to him¡ªthe man I had simultaneously envied and looked up to as an elder brother, who looked like such a fragile child at that moment.

    ¡°... I have to fight, Kaspar. Not just because it¡¯s my duty, but because I want to.¡±

    ¡°... fine. Whatever. Have it your way then, and I¡¯ll have it mine.¡±

    His tone was cold, and that made my heart ache. We had stepped away for so long, the others seemed to rally together to check up on us from beyond the bushes and trees. Kaspar left, not turning to look at me once, and pushed past them. I couldn¡¯t look at them, afraid I might have burst into tears then and there. Heavy, clinking footsteps upon the forest floor comforted my ears, and iron greaves had taken my hand into theirs. It was something so simple, yet it was all it took for me to crumble in their arms.

    Kaspar held on to his word.

    ¡°We¡¯re here, Your Holiness.¡±

    I lift my gaze up to the large dark wood doors barring this room¡¯s entrance. Tentatively, I held out a hand and placed my palm against the hardwood, looking up at the gate. It loomed over me, and at that moment, something inside me stirred¡ªa doubt that¡¯s been gnawing at my chest, gradually, in bits and pieces. A mere shadow cast over my heart, one that I refused to acknowledge.

    ¡°When I enter, I want to be alone.¡±

    ¡°Understood, Your Holiness.¡±

    Swallowing the static, I pushed the archive¡¯s door, heavy and solid. Dust filled my nostrils and I breathed out a cough. There is a difference between a library and an archive¡ªthe temple having both. While the library in my memories is bigger, lit up with large windows and corroded brass chandeliers, the archive is much different. A library is meant as a public means of entertainment and knowledge. Those who resided in the temple had little to do with themselves, so the children had the tendency to use it as a designated hang out. However, the temple¡¯s archive is located deeper within the temple¡ªa small, dark, and rarely touched room. The walls are thick, and there isn¡¯t any natural light.

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Feeling the wall in the darkness, the smooth surface of a candle lamp clinks against my fingers. Unhooking it from the wall, I use the light from the doorway to find the candle. It¡¯s a long and narrow one, encased in a glass cylinder with the mouth at the top. When I was younger, you¡¯d usually just use another candle or light source of sorts, but I don¡¯t really see one. It¡¯s still daytime as well, so walking down the hallway to find one is unlikely. Tilting my head, it¡¯s not that I really need one I guess¡ªit¡¯d just be a bit difficult.

    Staring intently, I began inhaling softly. Forcing my blood to flow quicker, I felt my skin warm. My fingertips start to tingle, and the hairs on my skin begin to stand up. Nevertheless, I don¡¯t tear my eyes away from the wick of the candle. I am a bit nervous, but I can¡¯t let it get to me. Just focus on the wick, imagining the putrid smell of burnt linen and thread. Slowly, I pour out my divinity in a drawn out exhale¡ªjust barely. Don¡¯t let it spread, focus on one, tiny point. My efforts are painstakingly rewarded when I catch the frayed end of the wick turn a dark reddish-brown, a small speck glowing orange, before the wick is finally enveloped in flame. It takes only a second¡ªa sigh of relief, blinking away¡ªand the candle head has erupted with an angry, smoky blaze. Dry, putrid air scratches up in my throat and nostrils as a sudden strike of light flashes in my vision, flickering between an ominous electric blue and bright red. Hairs on my skin stand up, smoke stinging my wide eyes, and my hand flinches away on impulse¡ªit¡¯s all consuming, the loud shattering of glass and the growing expanse of fire. It crawls upon the floor, a roaring flame, eating up what¡¯s left of the claustrophobic room¡¯s oxygen, all while using the aged dust like dispersed spores as fuel for its pillaging.

    ¡°Your Holiness!¡±

    Streaky shadows on the wall scatter aimlessly like a disturbed pile of ants, and the light is snuffed out instantly. The residue of some sort of pressure brushes past my cheeks, and it feels like the air¡¯s been knocked out of me as I topple to the floor along with another¡¯s heavy weight. It happened so quickly¡ªthe burst of light coming and going, as if it were never there. But I saw it, didn¡¯t I? Electric blue, like lightning, hazy and suffocating. My fingers feel cold, stiff as they tremble like they haven¡¯t in years as the bitterness spreads into the cavern of my chest. How easily my vision blurs, the remnants of scars pulsing like the day they were carved into my arms.

    ¡°Fa¡­¡±

    I suck in a raspy gasp, inhaling more of that thick smokiness.

    ¡°Father¡­!¡±

    ¡°Your Holiness, you must leave this room¡ªthis smoke and dust isn¡¯t good for you.¡±

    A large hand, just barely against my clothed arm, and I push them away.

    ¡°No! Just¡ªJust leave me be!¡±

    I can¡¯t leave¡ªno¡ªnot until I find it¡ªproof of their existence. My shaken vision slowly focuses in the doorway¡¯s light, her silhouette overtaking it. The female paladin, with an unreadable expression, cast in darkness. Outlined by light, the strands of her hair are unnaturally illuminated, a ghostly platinum blonde. A pale, shadowed hand is extended, sickly pure white sleeves of gilded trims.

    ¡°But, Your Holiness¡ª¡°

    ¡°I said leave!¡±

    The gloved hand flinches, fingers gradually clenching into a retracted fist as the uniformed arm shrivels back against her full body.

    ¡°¡­ As you wish, Your Holiness.¡±

    A shuffle of fabric, slow, almost hesitant. A dull sound of heels dragging against the cold floor, quiet clacks and there¡¯s a shadow in the doorway now. It casts over me, looming, the long and loose strands of my hair hanging beside my vision as I lock my blurred gaze onto the dust covered ground. A moment. Two.

    ¡°I will keep the door open for Your Holiness, as the light has¡­¡± Her voice trails off. ¡°If Your Holiness requires my service, I will be a little ways down the hallway¡ªto give Your Holiness privacy. Excuse me.¡±

    The shadow upon me lingers, just a bit longer, before disappearing behind the doorway, accompanied by light, muted footsteps. Something scratches in my throat, dry and bitter, and I cough. An emptiness blooms inside my chest, limbs heavy as if weighted. I don¡¯t know how long it was¡ªme, collapsed against that old floor. The tremble of my limbs stops, and that urgency returns bit by bit, and with it my resolve.

    ¡°¡­ I need to find it.¡±

    Pulling my knees closer, I steady myself, standing back up and making my way toward the shelves, practically falling against it. They¡¯re plunged in darkness, so feeling for them is all I can do. The thickness of old wood is scratchy between my fingers, and just a bit further in are books. Cured leather encasings, they¡¯re uneven and roughly textured like lizard skin. Brushing against the spine leaves multiple layers of dust coating my fingertips. There¡¯s a lot of them, tightly packed against one another.

    But these aren¡¯t what I¡¯m looking for.

    Dipping my fingers up to the compressed pages, they¡¯re fine and thin¡ªpaper. The texts in this section may be old enough to be covered in dust, but they¡¯re not that old. Paper was much too fragile, so easy to destroy back in my era. Paladins were recklessly practicing and training their divinity, divinity that was meant to be destructive. Back when there was chaos and calamity brewing because of Corruption, the practice of divinity was needed much more, so damage was expected. Forests were infested with beasts, so wood was also difficult to come by. These aren¡¯t the documents from my era.

    Bending my knees, I felt the pages of the books on a lower shelf. Thicker pages, but cut short and thick. They¡¯re more uneven, too, but almost soft in texture than sharp. Cloth? Some kind of mix between cotton and fiber? That would make more sense. The Ouranos Kingdom focused more on crops than livestock. Livestock drew more attention from corrupted beasts, after all, and was more expensive to raise and protect¡ªa luxury those outside the capital could not have.

    Tentatively, I pulled one of the books forward, walking towards the light from the doorway. Rubbing the burnt label with my thumb, I squinted at the numeral engravings. An M, a C¡­

    I frown, furrowing my eyebrows. Still too late. Rubbing the dust off my fingers against the fabric of my skirt, I turn around back into the shadows. Feeling for its spot on the lower shelf, the emptiness welcomes it back. If the other ones were like it, that means the years are engraved into the cover, right? I don¡¯t necessarily need the light then. Taking the book next to it, I feel for the depression the burn mark left behind, tracing the dust-covered numbers with my fingertips. It¡¯s a longer stretch of them¡ªanother M, another C¡­

    I pause. There¡¯s a new book every decade.

    Shoving it back into the bookcase, I stop to think. Picking along the edge of the shelf, there has to be around twenty books on each. Two hundred years for each level? If the higher shelves are of the most recent centuries then the ones closer to the bottom have to be the older documents. Standing up on my toes, I feel deep inside the top shelf, where it¡¯s empty aside from a handful of books without a single layer of dust in them. There isn¡¯t enough¡ªthere¡¯s still another two hundred years left.

    Turning my head, I look to the other side of the room. Is there another shelf there?

    Taking a step, I flinch and grab onto the side of the bookshelf as my foot slides against the floor. The old storage unit shakes with my abrupt action, and the few books on the top shelf fall loose onto the floor with loud tumbles. Clinging onto the shelf, I press my side into it for support, the wood dipping into my side. The place where it pokes into my ribs begins to ache and I wince.

    ¡°Damn¡­¡±

    I slide down onto the floor with an irritated sigh. Glancing at the sole of my boots, I can just vaguely see the swish marks left behind in the dust on the floor. I get that no one really enters the archive, but couldn¡¯t they keep this place better?

    Turning my head back over, my eyes have adjusted to the dark slightly. The outlines of the top books are barely visible on the floor, toppled over along with¡­

    Pressing my lips together, I crawl over. Reaching out to it, I turn it back from its side. It¡¯s a box? Must have fallen when I slipped. It¡¯s a box made of a material I¡¯ve never seen before. Sturdy, yet also flimsy, as if it were some kind of durable paper. I slowly scoot myself over to the light, taking the box with me, where I examine the insides. There¡¯s old and dried parchment of stiff texture, tied together in some sort of new twine as if they were to be a book that never got properly bound. It¡¯d be a short read, too¡ªthe cover paper, blank, with only a few pages following it.

    Rubbing my fingers against the paper, it¡¯s weird. It almost reminds me of vellum. Thinking about it, vellum is probably easier to come by now, than it was back then. Animal hides are expensive¡ªor at least, they were.

    Glancing at the bottom of the box, under the strange bunch of documents though, is a large and old book. A tattered cover, definitely gone through its fair share of years with all of the stains and creases. But what makes my body go cold are the numbers, nearly faded, on that worn cover.

    ¡°¡­ What?¡±

    It¡¯s the century I was born in.

    Throwing the poorly pieced together documents aside roughly, I grab ahold of the book left within the box, eagerly placing it onto the floor right into the light. Any sort of suspicion or doubt doesn¡¯t even cross my mind. This is it. All of a sudden, my body feels hot, pumping with adrenaline. Carefully, I place a finger gently under the cover, and turn the page. Another, and another¡ªbefore I know it, I¡¯m flipping them incessantly. The handwritten text is faded, but still legible, sorting the members of the temple by family name and title. Orphans and commoners are first, those without either. Next are nobles in order of rank who joined¡ªquite a lot of them. Both of their sections take up most of the book, with how many came and left in those hundred years alone.

    But Kaspar wouldn¡¯t be any of those¡ªbecause he became a Paladin. So he would be closer to the end, among the higher ranked members of the congregation¡ªsharing the Ka Surya name.

    Kaspar ka Surya. Kaspar ka Surya. It repeats in my mind, echoing desperately.

    ¡°He doesn¡¯t mean it, you know.¡±

    ¡°How do you know that?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s nice to me, isn¡¯t he? I¡¯m his best pupil, after all. Trust me, you just need to work hard, and His Holiness will surely forgive you!¡±

    We used to be so young. Even though he was older than me, he didn''t seem to understand it¡ªFather¡¯s cruelty. Just like the others, he never protested or fought for my sake, but he was there¡ªalways consoling and comforting me afterwards, picking up the pieces and putting whatever was left together. He deserved it¡ªto be known as a hero.

    I make it to the ¡®K¡¯ section of first names.

    ¡°Kaspar¡ª¡° Midnight blue charges forth, a battle cry. ¡°¡ªwhat are you doing?!¡±

    It was going so well. Zen and Kaspar held up the beasts¡ªme and Shivani pouring all of our divinity out for the final attack. The sudden spark of lightning and the crackle of thunder distracted me for just a single moment, along with Zen calling Kaspar back¡ªmidnight blue dashing ahead, reckless as he leapt for Corruption¡ª

    And then blood, with Kaspar¡¯s left arm across the wasteland¡ªhis body, thrown only a little ways away.

    ¡°Kaspar!¡±

    Shivani stopped for a moment¡ªmoving their hands to sign something, but I was already gone. I crouched down, raising my hands to charge my divinity forth¡ªbiting my lip through the resounding pain that shook throughout my body¡ªthere was so much blood¡ª

    ¡°¡ªKaspar you need to stay with me, stay with me¡ª!¡°

    The clinking of metal rushing closer, so I instinctively turned¡ªand then I saw it¡ª

    My legs moved, pushed up on their own¡ªa concentrated beam of corruption unleashed¡ªShivani, behind¡ª!

    There¡¯s no name.

    There is no Kaspar ka Surya.

    This is a mistake. It¡¯s quiet. Too quiet, dead.

    ¡°Oh,¡± it comes out of me, like spilled ink, ¡°I¡¯m so stupid. He¡¯d be listed with the Popes at the end.¡±

    I didn¡¯t notice it¡ªI didn¡¯t. My voice wasn¡¯t weak. It didn¡¯t crack. My fingers against the paper are stable, and they will keep turning the page.

    It¡¯s going to be there.

    It will be there.

    ¡°There are no records of The Saintess¡¯ comrades at all.¡±

    So why.

    ¡°There are no records of The Saintess¡¯ comrades at all.¡±

    Why am I remembering all this now?

    ¡°There are no records of The Saintess¡¯ comrades at all.¡±

    I turn the page¡ªscanning the only name written¡ª

    ¡°There are no records of ¡ª¡±

    Casimir ka Surya.

    The pages fall apart against the wall¡¯s impact, ripping as it collides with the dusted floor, like the cremated ashes of a corpse. I throw the back of my head back against the old stone wall, and it throbs, my hands limp beside me.

    ¡°¡­ ha.¡± It bubbles up, twisted. I don¡¯t even recognize it as my voice.

    ¡°Hahahahaha.¡±

    My eyes sting, wide, and the world blurs, morphing together like some mirage. Is that what this is? A mirage? An illusion? My face feels hot, and an intense pressure grows with an ache somewhere in my nose. I get it. I get it now¡ªthat foreboding feeling, that feeling that¡¯s been gorging itself in my stomach and twisting in my gut this whole time. Like something tore my chest back open again and has been slowly splashing vodka¡ªsuch a stinging, burning sensation¡ªinto my freshly gouged out rib cage where my heart should¡¯ve been¡ªbut there¡¯s nothing. There was nothing to begin with.

    I was in denial, but I knew didn¡¯t I?

    That there wouldn¡¯t be anything.

    I hunch forward, slow and achy, like rusted cogs of a wound up clock struggling to perform. My eyes turn to the doorway, to a thin pile of old parchment with a black cover page.

    Why was that paired with this decrepit record?

    Wobbly, I slide up the wall behind me. A step. Two. I feel like a corrupted beast, something dead, yet alive¡ªsomething that shouldn¡¯t be alive. My joints feel locked into place, trudging my heavy legs stiffly forward. The papers¡ªvellum¡ªare between my feet and I stare down at them.

    What are you?

    I pick at the twine. Scratching it. Clawing at it. Pulling my fingers through it until it cuts off the feeling¡ªthe circulation¡ªand it rips. The twine rips, fragmented on the floor like trash. A useless cover page falls, revealing careful, patient, calligraphy.

    Oh.

    I see.

    I know this writing. I know this writing very well¡ªsmooth on the textured vellum, made with a finely crafted, prized and precious pen¡ªglass, was it? Dipped into expensive Ambros Ink, bought with funds that should¡¯ve been for the unfortunate. I think I can still smell it¡ªthe concentrated, putrid, rotted stench of the exotic fruits used to make it. My eyes scan the page, slow, oh so very slow, taking in every detail.

    The sewer rat stopped crying at some point. She¡¯s stopped speaking at all. It¡¯s a shame, really. But that only means it has been a success then, hasn¡¯t it? At first, I didn¡¯t think this sort of method was possible. Divinity is privy to each individual, after all, flowing and replenishing like one¡¯s blood. It has always been used offensively, and not to mention paired with flashy visuals. But why was healing so different, leaving nothing behind? The manipulation of divinity is simple, excreting it from your own being. To the chosen, it¡¯s as easy as breathing. Healing is no exception, yet it is as if you are sharing your divinity. Would this not be the same as transferring your own flesh and blood? This got me thinking.

    If you can give divinity to another, what happens when you reverse the process: forcefully taking it, instead?

    I didn¡¯t need to read the rest. I really didn¡¯t.

    Why would I need to, when I know of it most?

    I need not read more, letting the scraps fall dully onto the cold ground. Treating it like a schoolgirl¡¯s diary entry, it was even signed at the bottom of every entry. I step out the door, the blotted signature seen from the corner of my eye, leaving the discarded papers behind. My feet seem to move automatically, a simple walk through the corridor. I thought, when I first laid my eyes upon that cursive writing, I¡¯d spiral into a panic again.

    But my mind is strangely clear. Much, much too clear,

    You know, I thought it was strange. Divinity is individual. Even if I send out a thin film to locate another wielder of divinity, there is no actual exchange. Divinity does not combine with another¡¯s. Oil and water do not mix, after all. But the Paladin, she snuffed it out¡ªthe fire I made. Divinity can clash against each other. But that¡¯s not what she did. She didn¡¯t put the fire out by attacking the divinity I released.

    She mixed her divinity with mine, and nullified the flame by taking back her own. The paladin controlled my divinity by absorbing it with hers, leaving nothing visual behind. You could not do that back in my era¡ªsuch a thing wasn¡¯t possible. Divinity exchanges like that just isn¡¯t possible¡ª

    Unless you heal. Unless you give. Unless you take.

    A stick drags into the dry dirt, engraving careful words almost hidden by night.

    [Healing hurts... doesn¡¯t it?]

    It did. By god, it did. My little hands would tremble, every cell in my body recoiling with tremors, all whilst recalling the numbing, fluctuating static. Each time I¡¯d heal, all I could remember was the pain¡ªas if my blood was flowing backwards, clotting up in my veins but still forced to move. What kind of Saintess can¡¯t even heal?

    My legs burn, and I realize I¡¯ve been running. Where? I don¡¯t know, but my heart is beating so loudly in my chest and my mind just won¡¯t stop.

    Those vellum records¡ªthough old, they were clean. Pristine. Not a single bit of dust on them. That box, too¡ªit¡¯s an invention, a creation of this era, isn¡¯t it?

    A thousand years is a long time. It¡¯s a long time to develop the Ouranos Kingdom¡¯s divine power. How many people looked at those records? In these one thousand years, how many people looked at those records¡ªthose disgusting records left behind by Casamir ka Surya?

    Left behind by Father.

    My skin feels hot, and my head is light¡ªairy, even. Everything is clear, and my mind feels sharp.

    They were so clean, preserved so well! Did they think of him as a genius? Did they hail Father as a genius for his discovery, for making a breakthrough in the use of divinity? After I¡ªa child¡ªwas sent away to fight a divine war, did he live in deep seeded comfort? Did he drown himself in respect, recognition, luxury?

    Something is rotting in my stomach, decayed and spoiled, twisting up fumes that choke the oxygen in my throat. Dirty. So, so, so dirty. It stings my eyes, lingering behind just to remind me of the filth that lives on inside me¡ªthe nauseating filth that makes up half of my being.

    How much? How much of this era, this modern era¡¯s divinity, was based off of my suffering?!

    The courtyard. Is the courtyard where I am now? I laugh. I admit it, I laugh¡ªa cruel, sardonic laugh.

    ¡°¡ªthe two of us can finally return to the temple, home, as heroes¡ª¡°

    ¡°There are no records of The Saintess¡¯ comrades at all.¡±

    The Saintess¡¯ Torturer became a renowned genius, while the Saintess¡¯ Party was forgotten.

    I¡¯m sick.

    Someone bumps into me¡ªor rather, I suppose I bump into someone. Firm, yet careful hands steady my shoulders, preventing my stumble.

    ¡°Your Holiness? What are¡­¡±

    I gaze up into green, that almost looked golden under the sun¡¯s piercing light.

    ¡°Your Highness¡ªno. Iliazo¡ª¡°

    I grip onto the cotton fabric of his shirt.

    ¡°Take me away. Please. I can¡¯t stand it here any longer.¡±

    My eyes burn, and I can¡¯t read his face.

    ¡°This place makes me sick.¡±

 Chapter Eight: An Enthusiastic Lunch

    ¡°Wait here for a moment,¡± His Highness tells me, guiding me inside the gilded carriage. He lightly pushed down my shoulders until I was stable on the cushioned seat. Both of his hands slowly backed away, pulling closer to his body before grasping the button that clipped together the sides of his cloak. There was a vague, dull sound, and the cloth slackened around his shoulders. I looked away for just a moment, before a warmth was wrapped around my body. ¡°It¡¯s a bit chilly after sunset, so¡­¡±

    I reached up to grip the dark cloak, eying it with tired eyes, before forcing a playful smile.

    ¡°Traveling in the cold is something I¡¯m used to, Your Highness. This is better suited for an extinguished lord like you, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    My gaze flicked up to his¡ªhe, whose chapped lips were flattened into a frown, and lush green eyes, humorless. The corners of his lips curved upwards ever so slightly, eyebrows narrowed as his eyelids lowered halfway. He looked almost disheartened as his hands loosened against the fabric.

    ¡°... I have some business in the temple, but we will head to the palace the moment I return.¡±

    His Highness Iliazo¡®s warmth seemed to linger before he stepped backwards, down the step, and turned away.

    ¡°Your Highness,¡± I called out.

    Before turning away completely, his eyes met mine.

    ¡°That dress you lent me,¡± I suddenly found myself saying. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I Iost it.¡±

    The Prince¡¯s emerald gaze paused, before he broke into his usual amused smiles, scoffing out a lighthearted chuckle.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡±

    Blinking the blurriness away, I opened my eyes to the darkness of my room. Well¡ªmy assigned guest room, in any case. I shifted on the mysteriously too soft and pillowy mattress, hugging one of the many excess pillows. The carriage ride to the palace was quiet, not a single word being exchanged between us, just as before. With all the time it took, and the farther we got from the temple, the chaos welling up in my chest gradually subsided. We reached the palace¡¯s gateway and, just like the first time, His Highness escorted me out and a maid guided me back to here.

    I just couldn¡¯t shake that it felt different, somehow, as something weighed on my chest. What was it? Was it because it felt like I¡¯d forced Iliazo¡¯s hand? I mean, it makes sense, doesn¡¯t it? You can¡¯t exactly deny the Saintess when she¡¯s practically thrown herself on you, begging you to take her away. A shameful heat prickled at my ears and face, nervousness burying into my chest. Even with my mind crystal clear, I was much too brash and impulsive.

    Yet, I don¡¯t think I would¡¯ve done any different had I gone back to do it again.

    The thought of being in that place any longer made my skin crawl, something cold agitating every hair on my skin. Vaguely, I think back to the female paladin who was tasked to follow me, and how easily I slipped away in my frenzy. She couldn¡¯t have been far behind, coming after me, but I don¡¯t recall seeing her. I don¡¯t think I recall seeing anyone, not until I ran into His Highness. Pressing my cheek deeper into the pillow, I replayed it over again¡ªthe feeling of her divinity taking over mine, as if possessing it, in order to smother the fire out. Pressing my fingers into the plush of the pillow, a chill dances upon my skin. It felt unnatural¡ªas if something so close to me had been violated. I don¡¯t think I could face her, or anyone in the temple for that matter. Had I not run into His Highness, I may have snapped.

    Disgusting. It¡¯s disgusting¡ªI didn¡¯t even know Father had taken notes on what he was doing to me. After I was sent away, did he read them over and over again? As those eyes whom mine resembled looked over every scratch and curve of his own writing, was he reliving the way my skin pulsed under his, littered with tremors and twitching like some animal on its last breath? Was he recalling each time my screams continued until my throat ran dry? It must have been disappointing, the moment when such pain became natural, and not even tears bled from my eyes. He was right¡ªnothing is left behind. Unlike his electrocution, no scars or blemishes appeared on my skin. But he had to keep releasing his frustration on me somehow after I was revealed as the Saintess¡ªeven the most devout of followers would start questioning his discipline upon God¡¯s daughter. It''s not like Surya could stop him. There was no such thing as ¡®proof¡¯¡¯ with this method.

    It¡¯s funny. I think somewhere in my mind, I still wanted to believe he was hurting me purely out of emotion. That maybe in another life, if I had done something worth praising over in his eyes, he could¡¯ve stopped. Reading the refined, calculated words upon vellum tore that all away¡ªat some point, impulse and reason become one and the same. While I was out there fighting beasts, the cruelest monster was the one who laid his hands on me.

    A human.

    My nose scrunches up as my eyesight begins to blur again. The page¡¯s heading stuck out to me. Divine Equalization¡­ was that what he called it? This ¡®discovery¡¯ of his?

    ¡°Divine, huh? Hah.¡±

    How sacrilegious.

    There¡¯s a knock at the door, and I lift my clenched palms to my face, quickly scrubbing my expression away.

    ¡°Pardon me, Your Holiness. I¡¯m coming in.¡±

    It¡¯s a voice I¡¯m familiar with at this point, and the door creaks open. With great effort, I sit up as she enters, lightly setting something folded on the foot of the bed.

    ¡°Oh? You¡¯re awake already, Your Holiness?¡±

    ¡°I have been for a bit, yes,¡± I reply, trailing her figure as she walks across the room towards the windows. The light of day pierces my eyes painfully, forcing me to wince as she rips the heavy satin curtains open. Sunlight passes through the crystal windows, shining upon the copper strands of hair neatly combed and tidied up on her head. They¡¯re braided into a bun, a few loose strands framing her face along with feathery bangs cut blunt upon her forehead, under them eyes like fresh spring water. Her smile smoothes out into a frown, distancing from the windows as she approaches me.

    Her eyelashes flutter, thin eyebrows narrowing as she stares intently at my face.

    ¡°Your Holiness, did you get any sleep last night?¡±

    ¡°I did,¡± it comes out fast. ¡°I¡¯ve just been awake for a while.¡±

    A hand reaches out, soft, framing my jaw as she looms closer. I swallow, averting her gaze while fighting away the ticklish warmth I can already feel creeping up my neck.

    ¡°Define, ¡®a while¡¯...¡±

    Her voice is soft and frank, like an older sister¡¯s chastising. I haven¡¯t heard of such in a long time, not since my days before the temple. The older children of the back alleys were solitary folk, but occasionally looked out for the younger kids. Her fingers against my cheek feel nice.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know, I didn¡¯t think to check.¡±

    Lariette stares for another moment, and then sighs, the softness of her fingertips pulling away from my face as she distances herself. She circles back around to the foot of the bed, straightening out what I now see is a dress.

    ¡°His Highness has invited you to lunch, but if Your Holiness feels unwell, he says it is alright for you to decline.¡±

    Ah. He must think I¡¯m crazy after my behavior yesterday evening. Shifting my weight to the edge of the bed, I respond with, ¡°I feel fine.¡±

    Oh right, I¡¯m wearing a nightgown. Fiddling with the lace ruffles sewn into the front, I glance over to the door. It¡¯s quiet.

    ¡°Just you today, Lariette?¡±

    She glances up at me.

    ¡°His Highness has instructed for me to attend to you alone.¡± As I dip my feet into the thin, modernized version of slippers belonging to this era, Lariette has once again rounded the bed. Her hand is extended in an invite as the dress hangs from her other arm, a kind smile on her face. ¡°This is more of an informal occasion after all, and I¡¯m sure it¡¯s something Your Holiness is most comfortable with, yes?¡±

    As I place my hand in hers, she pauses in remembrance with a small gasp.

    ¡°Oh, but don¡¯t think this will happen often.¡± There¡¯s a bit of cheekiness in that smile of hers, now. ¡°When it comes to anything else, the girls will be joining me, fully equipped.¡±

    My reply comes out in a nervous laugh as she pulls me to my feet.

    <hr>

    Two male servants wait at the door, opening it in fluid motion the moment I approach. With a glance towards Lariette, who remains slightly behind, I continue cautiously through the pine doorway. There¡¯s the scent of something both sweet and salty. Not like the fragrance of flowers, but almost like the sweetness of honey where there¡¯s a tinge of bitterness that mellows out the overall smell. The amount of saltiness is not quite like the lingering scent of the ocean¡¯s breeze at all. It¡¯s vague, something that¡¯s barely detected at first, but intensifies the longer you take it in. As I take another step closer, a more diverse array of smells mix in¡ªsomething fresh and almost grassy with a note of sourness, marbled in with the faint essence of bloomed yeast. If I squint, there¡¯s a subtle fishiness, not the unpleasant kind, but the actual saltiness of the sea¡ªdistinctly separate from the other salty smell, stewed with something herbal.

    The overwhelming waft of smells make sense as I get a better look at the¡ªvery wide¡ªtable, already adorned and fully plated. In front of each seat is their own, individual, set of pre-arranged plates and silverware. As my eyes glaze over the complex and orderly arrangement, I finally catch sight of His Highness sitting at the head of the table, waving over with a bright expression on his face.

    ¡°Am I¡­¡± I glance back to the empty chairs and his own full, but untouched, plate, ¡°late?¡±

    ¡°No, not at all. I¡¯m simply early.¡± Quietly, the dining room door closes behind me when he calls out, ¡°Come, sit wherever you¡¯d like!¡±

    Despite not being late, he sits alone at the head of a fully decorated table along with a variety of foods to choose from. Time and effort must have been put into this presentation surely, but how should I put it? As I sit in the seat adjacent to him upon his right side, even the overjoyed smile on his face does nothing to erase that image. With only a single glance, a child would see it, too¡ªa large platter of ham, an elongated tray presenting a bright and appetizing salad, still warm loaves of bread, some even cut into sandwiches of various fillings¡­

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    And that¡¯s excluding the delicately braised fish and iced mussels spooned onto the Prince¡¯s plate. I can¡¯t imagine the effort, or even the expenses, used for such a wide selection of food. The Ouranos Kingdom is the most inland after all, and it took over two years on foot before we could reach the eastern shores of the continent. To transport the mussels alone would¡¯ve cost a fortune, I¡¯m sure. Even in this time of peace, such food wouldn¡¯t come so easily.

    ¡°Will anyone else be joining us, Your Highness?¡± I ask tentatively.

    As he chooses among his many forks, he glances over to me.

    ¡°No, it will be just us.¡±

    ¡°Then¡­ Do you normally eat this much¡­?¡± I inquire. ¡°Alone?¡±

    His green eyes flicker between me and his chosen fork for a moment, before his lips spread out into a thoughtful smile, lowering it onto his plate.

    ¡°Of course not,¡± comes his response, his tone light and jovial as his eyes close. ¡°No normal person can eat all of this. But you need not worry about food waste. Most can be stored quite easily, and what can¡¯t be stored, servants and staff are free to have.¡±

    He seems to have misinterpreted my words for one of concern about the amount of food. Partially, that was it, but also¡­

    Prince Iliazo tilts his head, gesturing to the array of food.

    ¡°Go on, choose whatever you¡¯d like.¡±

    Looking back at the various platters, I begin to stand while reaching my hand out for the cured ham. Before I can take a step away from my seat, however, a male servant of dark hair takes it instead. In a swift motion, he carries the ceramic plate bearing the large cut of meat with ease, circling around my chair before slicing a piece and serving it onto my plate.

    ¡°Oh¡ª¡± I feel my face warm, ¡±Thank you!¡±

    He bows lightly before returning the main platter to its original place, walking empty handed toward the dining room door where he was stationed. I look back over to my plate, where a large cut of ham rests, then look over to the selection of silverware. Sneaking a peek at what fork His Highness had chosen, I choose similarly¡ªcoming up with the medium sized fork and the smallest knife. As I make my decision, a small sound akin to a stifled laugh comes from His Highness¡¯ covered mouth. My fingers, armed with a knife and fork, waver over the plate and my ears feel hot.

    ¡°I¡¯m taking lessons for a reason, ok?¡± I blurt out, roughly slicing off the corner piece of the cut of meat. ¡°Also, I took the same knife as you!¡±

    The golden haired prince reaches for one of the three cups¡ªwhich I only now realized I also had duplicates of¡ªand sips the decorated one on a tiny plate closest to me, beholding a dark but transparent liquid. Before he sips it, he clears his throat.

    ¡°You¡¯ll find that even the basics of table etiquette are quite complex,¡± is all he says before taking almost silent sips, so quiet it was almost fake. Grumbling to myself, I glanced over to the small ceramic cup that belonged to my own table arrangement. Placing the knife down against my plate after cutting my piece of ham, I too reached towards it. It¡¯s cute, and prettily painted with intricate strokes of abstract design. Taking a hold of the thin handle, it¡¯s warm. I hold it up to my lips, the steam thin against my face. It¡¯s fragrant, reminiscent of flowers but also not. I almost want to say it''s herbal, but not like spice.

    Blowing on it softly, I bring the warm ceramic edge to my lips cautiously. The hot liquid startles me, burning my lip and tongue for just a second on contact before settling.

    ¡°Oh¡­!¡±

    An excited warmth blooms in my chest as I swallow, the strong taste lingering on my tongue. It¡¯s bitter. It¡¯s bitter! I don¡¯t know why I expected it to be sweet¡ªmaybe because of the flowery design on the cup, or the almost flowery smell, but it¡¯s bitter! Very bitter! The taste is strong, but also mellow and deep with the slightest hint of¡­ citrus? Yet also almost a bit smokey? It¡¯s indescribably unique. But it¡¯s pleasant!

    ¡°I thought it might have been steeped for too long, but you prefer it bitter,¡± comes His Highness¡¯ words. I whip my head towards him.

    ¡°What is this drink, Your Highness?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s tea, black tea specifically¡ªyou¡¯ve never had it before, Your Holiness?¡± An almost calm amusement spreads across his face. I shake my head, placing it back down where it was initially.

    ¡°No, we never really¡­¡± I feel my smile falter. His Highness raises an eyebrow, and I shake my head faintly. ¡°I¡­ never really had the luxury to. It was just water, alcohol, or¡­¡±

    I can¡¯t help but laugh, thinking back. Come to think of it, I did have something similar, didn¡¯t I? Just once, I think. There was this drink Zen whipped up when I fell ill with a dizzying heat, an herbal taste similar to this made with boiled water, and some weeds he picked up. Though we had honey and some sugar on hand, for once, he remembered my penchant for bitter things.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ it was just that.¡± For the most part, anyway.

    ¡°Why do you pay so much attention to me?¡±

    ¡°Hm? Now, that¡¯s quite presumptuous of you, Little Maya!¡± The feeling of his bandaged fingers, cold but gentle still, against my sweat covered forehead is hazy in my memories. What a weirdo, always crass and violent, but having his moments out of the blue. ¡°I pay attention to all of you young ones. You, Shiva-Poo, and¡­¡±

    He made a face.

    ¡°Kassy.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± I insisted in my heated daze. ¡°It¡¯s obvious how¡­ different I am.¡±

    He hummed thoughtfully, crimson irises avoidant, plopping a wet cloth onto my forehead. I thought he was ignoring me, me and my sickly rambles.

    ¡°Zen¡ª¡±

    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s because,¡± he suddenly spoke. It was only once, and only when I was delirious¡ªprobably thought I¡¯d forget when I got better. His strange, unusual red eyes seemed to soften, some emotion in them that looked out of place. ¡°You remind me of my sister.¡±

    ¡°You have a family?¡± It was meant to be snarky. I expected him to reply in his usual lighthearted tone, perhaps pinching my cheek or rubbing my head roughly in retaliation as he usually did. But he didn¡¯t.

    ¡°Nope.¡± His words came out, plain and simple as he organized his items. ¡°She¡¯s dead. They all are.¡±

    A dim and distant look, painted dark by his shadow.

    ¡°They¡¯ve been dead for a long time¡­¡±

    ¡°Your Holiness?¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡± I blink, clinking the fragile cup against its tiny plate. Prince Iliazo studies my face carefully, slowly glancing up, and down.

    ¡°I was asking how Your Holiness liked the dress that Your Holiness is currently wearing.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± I exhale. Tilting my head, I think about it¡ªthe texture and its weight, and how flexible it was when I was walking in the castle halls earlier¡­ ¡°I like it. It¡¯s comfortable.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good,¡± His Highness remarks, taking his fork and digging lightly into his fish. ¡°I left the decision up to Lariette. We still don¡¯t have a real wardrobe prepared for you just yet, so it¡¯s a bit out of fashion as one of my late mother¡¯s dresses. It¡¯s only been a few days, but she¡¯s already grasped what you like and dislike.¡±

    That¡¯s true. It didn¡¯t take very long to get ready with this outfit, and it¡¯s pretty light. She even chose a dress that covered my arms so I don¡¯t have to wear gloves. Oh, right. Chewing on ham, that fact comes back to me, pressing my lips firmly together as I stare deadpan in space. I have to wear long gloves from now on. That¡¯s gonna be annoying.

    Or maybe that¡¯s a good thing.

    Wow. It¡¯s been a long time since I had just meat, huh? I forgot how long it¡¯s been. The outside is saltier than the inside, but there¡¯s that sweet depth to it that balances the flavors out. Hunting for our daily dose of protein was normal on our travels, but anything more than salt or dried herbs were difficult to procure, and required venturing into a well stocked town. The temple only seemed to serve vegetable stew and bread, and that changed little even after a thousand years.

    Right. The temple.

    I flicker my eyes over to the heir of the Ouranos royal family sitting beside me.

    ¡°I hope I¡¯m not being a burden,¡± I mumble in between chewing, swallowing it down. ¡°I mean¡­ my request was so sudden, after all.¡±

    Oh god, now that I think about it, isn¡¯t this food only exquisite because I¡¯m here? Did the kitchen staff have to crunch in more food because I begged His Highness to take me?

    A hearty, amused laugh from His Highness.

    ¡°Nonsense!¡± He chuckles in between teary-eyed laughter. Iliazo gestures over to the uniformed staff. ¡°Your Holiness doesn''t seem to be aware of it, but the palace seems to be just a bit livelier when Your Holiness is here. I haven¡¯t seen the maids and manservants so enthusiastic.¡±

    There¡¯s a slight wave of his hand, and the few castle employees left in the room begin filtering out in an orderly manner.

    ¡°They may not seem like it, but they¡¯re all wide-eyed and curious, just waiting to catch even a glimpse of you.¡±

    ¡°Is that so¡­¡± My voice mumbles incoherently while chewing. I¡¯m glad that, according to His Highness¡¯ words, I¡¯m not inconveniencing anyone. At least, the staff, anyway. Peeking up from my food, Iliazo¡¯s eyes seem to bore into me.

    ¡°You look as if you have more to say.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± I press my lips together. Poking holes into the half of ham left on my plate, I nervously flicker my eyes over between my food and the prince. ¡°You¡¯re, uh¡­ not gonna ask me anything?¡±

    He takes a sip of his glass of water this time.

    ¡°Of what?¡±

    ¡°Just¡­¡± I set the fork down. ¡°Anything. My erratic behavior last night, my forcefulness, why I even wanted to leave the temple¡­¡±

    ¡°Your Holiness.¡± The glass clinks as he sets it down. I trail up his arm to his face, where he averts his eyes for a moment¡ªjust a second, his eyes wander, as if in thought, before they meet mine. He breaks into a smile. Not one of his usual, cheery ones with the slightest bit of mischief and playfulness. It was similar to the one from last night, a bit mellow with a slight twitch pulling at the corner of his mouth.

    As he begins, he seems to hesitate, opening his mouth, but not quite grasping what he¡¯s supposed to say. Iliazo blinks, staring absentmindedly at the table, before lifting his gaze.

    ¡°This is a bit embarrassing, but,¡± he turns his head, nervousness pulling at his smile now, before blinking back in my direction. ¡°The night I encountered you in the merchant¡¯s plaza, you had¡­ this look. I can¡¯t really describe it, but I remember it¡­¡±

    A peridot green, its gleam fluctuating as they soften. ¡°...  very well.¡±

    He leans back against the dining chair, ¡°Last night, you had that same look. And it reminded me of someone¡ªsomeone I hadn¡¯t seen in a long time.¡±

    With a tap of his fingers against the table, he gives me his signature, cheeky grin.

    ¡°So don¡¯t worry about things like being a ¡®burden¡¯ or ¡®owing¡¯ me. Just think of it as me using you to fulfill my own selfish desire, so no matter what, you can use me back.¡±

    ¡°You say that sort of thing so easily, but¡­¡± It¡¯s not as easy as he makes it sound. Even if it¡¯s true what he says, it still feels like I¡¯ve been using him much more than he could ever be using me. He¡¯s already helping me out in finding Shivani, with all the noble stuff concerning my clothes and etiquette, and then last night with the temple¡­

    Huh.

    ¡°Can I ask you something, Your Highness?¡±

    His hand hovers over the porcelain cup of tea. ¡°Of course, go ahead.¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­¡± I flicker my gaze over to him. ¡°Why were you at the temple last night, anyway?¡±

    ¡°Oh, that,¡± Iliazo brings the cup to his lips again for a sip. Just as he places it down on its respective plate, he starts talking. ¡°I was going to meet with His Holiness to work out a schedule regarding your etiquette lessons. You can¡¯t exactly take them at the temple, but it¡¯s not as if you can always stay here either, so¡­¡±

    He glances off to the side before continuing.

    ¡°Of course, I did get sidetracked, so the conversation ended up being about something else entirely.¡±

    My ears feels hot as shame crawls up my neck, clasping my hands against my face embarrassingly. Oh, my god. How could he have just asked me to not think of being a burden, and then admit he was there last night for me?! And then I interrupted him, by being an even bigger burden!

    ¡°I am so, so sorry Your Highness¡­¡±

    He waves his hand floppily, like some dead fish, as hearty laughter bubbles from his throat.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it! Actually, I¡¯m glad you brought that up.¡± Letting his hand fall to his side, he continues, ¡°I would¡¯ve completely forgotten, otherwise.¡±

    My ears perk up a bit at this, peeking in-between my fingers.

    ¡°Forgotten, what?¡±

    There¡¯s the ghost of a smile upon his lips, a bit odd, as he forks a torn piece of flesh from his braised fish. ¡°After you left, Rishita requested a preemptive meeting with you, sometime this week.¡±

    Hair like the dusken sky haunts my mind, with honey-amber eyes clear and true.

    Iliazo forks it into his mouth, chewing and swallowing completely before continuing on. ¡°She sent an official letter yesterday morning to remind me. I was going to decline initially, only because I hadn¡¯t gotten the chance to talk things over with the Pope in regards to Your Holiness¡¯ schedule, but now that Your Holiness is actually here¡ª¡±

    The legs of the wooden chair rattle loudly against the dining room floor as I stand up abruptly, practically slamming my hands on the table. His Highness jolts a little in his seat with shrinking pupils, clinking his silverware against the rim of his plate in surprise.

    ¡°I¡¯ll do it! Just tell me when, and I¡¯ll prepare myself instantly! Even if it were today, I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Your Holiness, I was simply giving Your Holiness an option,¡± he interrupts calmly with a slanted smile, still shaken from my outburst. ¡°You have no obligation to accept.¡±

    I shake my head, firm.

    ¡°No. I want to meet with Lady Rishita.¡± This will give me something to do while I¡¯m here. But more than anything, it¡¯ll be a good opportunity to do something for His Highness. No matter what Iliazo says, I¡¯ve been forcing his hand way too much already. Getting used to his fiance¡ªer, my future teacher, will make things a lot easier for everyone involved.

    The Prince¡¯s emerald gaze lingers for a moment, scanning my face, trailing down my arms and on to the dining table before sighing dejectedly with a smile.

    ¡°I¡¯ll send her your response, today.¡±