“I will send my proxy; serve him.”
In Escliffe, there was a Saintess.
“One with black hair and black eyes shall connect me with you, and shall make Escliffe prosper.”
The Saintess was famous for having black hair and black eyes, unlike the Empire’s people, who were all blonde. However, that fame did not stem merely from her exotic appearance.
“Is it true she doesn’t age?”
“Not at all. I saw her ten years ago, and again just the other day, and she was exactly the same.”
The Saintess did not age. For two hundred years, she had maintained the same appearance.
“Come on, you probably don’t even remember properly from ten years ago.”
“Look at Mr. Rickson.”
“Aah, Rickson… that’s true.”
Those who had kept watch for nearly thirty years to see whether she truly stayed the same eventually gave up. No matter how much time passed, the woman who appeared proudly every year at the rituals hosted by the temple looked the same.
“Whenever you see her, her skin is firm like a baby’s. How can it be so soft and smooth?”
Normally, she would have been condemned as a witch, but the Saintess was a special being. That alone justified everything.
“Honestly, isn’t it about time to believe her after two hundred years?”
If one were to name the force that got along worst with such a Saintess, it would be the Escliffe Imperial Family. The temple always used the Saintess as a figurehead to easily oppose the Imperial Family under the pretext of having received divine revelation. However, even the Imperial Family could not find fault with the Saintess’s existence.
That attitude of the Imperial Family convinced the people of the Empire of the Saintess’s authenticity.
“Black eyes and black hair. It’s because she’s a foreigner.”
“Well, that’s true.”
Rather, public sentiment was heading toward the point where suspecting her for two hundred years had been excessive.
“…….”
Yes, so it had come to that.
The man eavesdropping on their conversation from behind them flipped a robe over his head. Beneath the robe, transparent green eyes like emeralds glinted with foreboding.
“Rodan.”
The man rose from his seat and exited the rowdy tavern.
“Yes, my lord.”
A figure hidden in the darkness emerged from the building’s shadow and revealed its presence. And gazed at its master.
“You are in quite a foul mood.”
“…….”
“Do not follow.”
The man, revealing his displeasure, turned with an elegant motion, leaving Rodan behind. Rodan watched after the man’s noble bearing with his gaze—an air that even a shabby robe could not conceal.
His name was Ivan Wade Escliffe. He was the 15th Emperor of Escliffe.
***
“I said no!”
A shrill voice split the air. Like a small animal, her posture was excessively bristling with dislike and wariness.
“I’m not wearing it.”
Changing her clothes even once was always this difficult. The maid sighed deeply. Since the woman could not speak, coaxing her was even harder.
“Saintess.”
At that moment, the lady-in-waiting Louie Skipper appeared. It was a soft and gentle voice.
“It is time for prayer. You must go.”
Of course, it was a voice feigned to persuade the woman before her eyes. Because there was little time left.
“My name isn’t Saintess. I told you to call me by my name.”
“I clearly refused last time as well. If I did so, the High Priest would strike me with his staff.”
Louie rejected the proposal the woman before her had offered in a kind but firm voice. Her family was at stake in the matter of serving the Saintess. She did not want to be beaten with a staff merely for calling out a name.
“Why is it a sin to ask you to call my name?”
But the noble woman before her showed no intention of showing even a little consideration for such feelings. It was the moment when the lady-in-waiting was about to order the maid to change the clothes by force.
“I have come to escort you… Are you quarreling with your servant again, Saintess?”
They had definitely not sensed anyone’s presence, yet the door was open. The two people who had been struggling froze simultaneously in surprise.
“You may leave now.”
It was the High Priest, Aaron Skipper. He had certainly lived as a priest for a long time, yet strangely, he carried the air of a martial artist. Even the way he suppressed his footsteps, as he did now, was like that.
“Yes, High Priest.”
Louie and the maid pretended not to notice the desperate gazes clinging to them and hurriedly left their seats. For they were afraid a spark might fly onto them.
“It seems you threw a tantrum again, asking to be called by your name?”
Aaron asked with a smiling face. Shame and anger rose in succession on the woman’s face.
“My name isn’t Saintess. So I merely asked to be called by my name; how is that wrong?”
After confirming the door had closed, Aaron’s eyes curved gently. It was clearly a smile, yet it was also a warning. Because his smile was always accompanied by threats.
“…….”
Knowing this, the woman’s body tensed up like a mouse driven into a corner.
“In my view, you already know your wrongdoing.”
The smile vanished from Aaron’s face in an instant. The chilly expression on the man’s face made his meaning clear. It was a warning.
“I’m not the Saintess.”
Staring at that face, it became difficult to endure the surge of anger. Therefore, even if she could not argue loudly, she had no choice but to utter the words Aaron hated and was most wary of.
“Why are you not the Saintess?”
“My name is Amelia…”
“Amelia Escliffe.”
Aaron cut her off abruptly.
“The surname attached after it belongs to the Imperial Family.”
Amelia Escliffe. The woman revered as the Saintess was one who bore the Imperial Family’s surname despite not being royalty.
“The name as well—if you were not the Saintess, you could not have possessed it.”
He was right. Black eyes and black hair were nothing more than those of a foreigner in this land.
“If, as you say, you are not the Saintess.”
“…….”
“Then everything about you is a lie. Even the name Amelia is one you have no right to bear.”
Aaron spoke as if mocking her. It was not the demeanor of a priest who served the proxy of God, no matter who looked.
“Is it not?”
His attitude of condemning the fact she had tried so hard to forget was quite scathing. Amelia hid her trembling hands inside her sleeve.
“Then who are you?”
Aaron questioned. Unable to give any answer, Amelia quietly lowered her gaze.
“Have you calmed down now?”
Aaron keenly noticed that Amelia’s spirit had been broken. He donned a smiling face again. The man’s face as he smiled with his eyes was spine-chilling.
“Hurry and change your clothes, then move to the prayer room.”
Aaron commanded leisurely.
“No.”
However, Amelia was no pushover when it came to stubbornness either.
“Shall I have them changed by force?”
The smile faded from Aaron’s face. Amelia’s pupils trembled finely as she faced the man’s expressionless face.
“High Priest!”
It was then. A priest came rushing in a panic, looking for Aaron.
“They say a fire has broken out between the North and East Gates. The fire is quite large…”
“Go for now. Mobilize everyone nearby.”
Aaron, who had been confronting Amelia, turned around hurriedly.
“So this is why you said today’s prayer would be difficult. Rest.”
However, before he took a step out the door, he turned back to Amelia and spoke.
As if she had been stubborn all this time because she knew such a thing would happen.
“Ah, so the Saintess knew…”
“The Saintess knows all things. Let us go.”
Aaron answered with a grin. He was terrifyingly adept at shaping public opinion. With a thud, the door closed. Amelia clenched her hands, trembling with fear and fury.
“What do I know.”
It was a laughable thought. If Amelia could truly hear God’s voice and know the future, she would have wanted to know when Aaron would fall flat on his face.
“Ah.”
Amelia, who had been looking down, jerked her head up. Then she hurriedly put on a hooded robe and began running outside.
“Mobilize everyone nearby.”
They had said a fire broke out between the North and East Gates. If they had mobilized even the guards due to a lack of hands, perhaps the security at the North Gate—closest to her bedroom—had grown lax. That was the thought that occurred to her.
“Hah…”
She could not climb over the high wall, but if only there were no one guarding the gate. Even while catching her breath as she ran, Amelia smiled with a face flushed with hope.
“…….”
But that smile did not last long. The guard was temporarily away from his post, but the gate stood firmly shut, betraying her expectations. Only the faint moonlight scattering in the air showed the door locked with chains as well.
Amelia looked up at the door with resentful eyes, biting her lip hard. At that moment, she sensed movement beyond the high wall from which the outside was not visible.
“…What.”
Just as she thought it strange, a head suddenly poked over the wall. The unfamiliar figure, straddling the wall, paused when he spotted the woman glaring at the gate.
“Who are you…”
At the troublesome question, the man smiled with a perplexed face. Even beneath the hood of his robe, that expression alone was clearly visible.
“The High Priest’s underling?”
Of course, the subtle arrogance of a ruler seeping through the awkward lie was difficult to hide.
“…A lie.”
Amelia, who had rarely met people from the outside, lacked the capacity to discern what was special about him. However, she was at least capable of noticing his lie.
“And you?”
Despite his false identity being discovered, the man shamelessly asked a question. At that moment, Amelia was caught up in a subtle confusion.
Who am I?
Amelia had never had the chance to establish who she was while growing up. Because she had simply grown up under the name “Saintess.”
“Everything about you is a lie.”
I am not a lie.
“You have no right to bear even the name Amelia.”
That’s not true. Amelia struggled to shake off the words floating in her mind. However, it was difficult to deny that if she were not the Saintess, she had neither surname nor name.
“I am…”
But even so. No matter what anyone said, she was Amelia. Amelia raised her chin with a resolute face and threw the hood back over her head.
“I am Amelia.”
“…….”
“I have revealed my name, so before you scream, you too should remove that hood and reveal your proper identity.”
At Amelia’s words, the man scoffed. Then he brushed off the hood covering his head with a nonchalant hand.
“…….”
Then black eyes, sparkling as if studded with stars, met eyes that shone like the verdure of summer.
“Ivan. A servant of God.”
Blond hair as vivid as gold, green pupils that shone transparently like a gem of fine quality. A finely chiseled nose bridge and red, smooth lips. The man was a perfect beauty.
The soft petals planted in the garden swayed in the blowing wind. As if welcoming a guest who had arrived at a prison where flowers bloomed in profusion.