Chapter 120: I Am the Saintess
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 120: I Am the Saintess
At that same time, Loik was at the training ground, sparring with his brother-in-law.
Perel stood outside the ring, watching them alongside Cecilia, who had accompanied Raphael in Janet’s stead.
‘I’m just glad it passed like this.’
Perel shuddered as he watched Loik parry Raphael’s sword with just one hand.
Yesterday, Loik had suddenly brought up a strange topic with him.
– “Back when we were investigating the Grand Duchess… was there anything else?”
– “By ‘anything else,’ you mean…?”
Perel had tilted his head, genuinely confused.
– “Like, perhaps a young noble she was fond of back in the capital.”
– “...!”
The moment those words left Loik’s mouth, Perel’s composure crumbled, his face going pale with shock.
– “I-I didn’t mean to hide it on purpose. It was nothing more than a baseless rumor, and the report I received said it wasn't confirmed, so…”
– “So, you’re saying you took it upon yourself to filter my information?”
Seeing his lord’s jaw tighten, Perel’s heart hammered against his ribs.
– “I truly had no ulterior motive! I was just worried Your Highness would be even more upset if you saw it…!”
That was the truth.
It was bad enough that Loik had to marry the daughter of his enemy. To hear that his future bride was infatuated with Duke Kyle—a man Loik was constantly compared to—was more than Perel wanted to handle. He didn't even want to imagine Loik’s reaction.
Besides, it was just a rumor circulating in high society.
In the end, considering the source was unreliable, Perel had omitted it from his report.
– “In any case, is Her Highness not now the mistress of Blenheim?”
When Perel added that he shouldn't be so anxious, Loik’s eyes flared.
– “Who’s anxious?”
Perel had to swallow the remark that a man shouldn't be so obsessed with a woman’s past.
Then again, even that cold-hearted delegation had been singing the Grand Duchess’s praises by the time they left. At the final banquet, every time they cut a piece of steak, they lamented her absence.
‘With a wife like that, I suppose it’s understandable he’d be anxious.’
Ultimately, Perel had passed on the advice Cecilia had given him.
– “The lady-in-waiting mentioned that Her Highness dotes on Lord Raphael. She’d do anything for him.”
– “What does that mean?”
– “If Your Highness becomes close with Lord Raphael, wouldn't Her Highness be very pleased?”
Reacting to the phrase ‘Her Highness would be pleased,’ Loik’s eyes silently demanded to know how.
– “Lord Raphael’s dream is to become a knight. I heard he greatly admired Your Highness back when he was in the capital.”
– “Admired, my foot.”
Despite the dismissive words, his lord hadn't seemed to be in a bad mood.
Norton, who was with them, mentioned how much Lord Raphael had enjoyed their last spar. Thus, Raphael had arrived at the training ground today with a look of pure excitement after receiving Loik’s invitation.
“Do you really think this will work?” Perel asked Cecilia quietly.
She shrugged. “Don’t you think they’ve gotten much closer than they were at first?”
Perel wondered if his superior had forgotten the purpose of today’s sparring.
Holding a wooden sword with one hand while keeping the other behind his back, Loik looked surprisingly like he was enjoying himself as he toyed with Raphael.
Raphael, on the other hand, was huffing and puffing, swinging his sword with visible frustration.
‘Is he really trying to get close to him?’
As if his goal was simply to tease the boy, Loik poked at every opening with irritating precision.
To Perel, the youngest of four brothers, it looked exactly like an eldest brother bullying his sibling. Seeing that familiar sight, he actually started to feel a bit sorry for Raphael.
Just then, as if her tea time with the Marchioness had ended, the Grand Duchess entered the training ground alone, without even a maid.
“Sister!”
Both Loik and Raphael rushed toward her simultaneously.
As Raphael began to complain to her as if reporting a crime, Loik muttered something with a perfectly innocent expression.
Laughter.
Upon hearing his words, the Grand Duchess burst into laughter, looking as if she’d just heard the funniest story in the world.
Watching from a distance, Cecilia giggled softly.
“That’s a relief.”
“What is?”
“Her Highness. She once said she likes people who are entertaining.”
“She said she’s never seen a woman who dislikes an entertaining man.”
“It’s the same thing.”
Cecilia gave a playful scolding and let her lips curl into a smile.
“As it turns out, His Highness is a very entertaining man.”
“What do you mean? In what way?”
“His face.”
The maid looked at Perel and said, “His Highness has a very entertaining face.”
An entertaining face? What on earth does that mean?
“I don’t think we need to worry about Her Highness anymore.”
While Perel blinked stupidly, Cecilia watched the three of them with a satisfied expression.
*
“Priest Miel greets Her Highness.”
“Oh, welcome.”
The priest stood before me, his hands folded demurely. His ash-gray hair, bordering on silver, was neatly tied back. His frame looked quite slender beneath his white robes.
“I heard you left the temple and came all this way because of me. Thank you.”
Once the delegation had left and Loik decided I had recovered enough, he told me about the priest and the seal.
– “I have holy power?”
When I reacted with confusion, Loik arranged this meeting.
“May I examine your condition, Your Highness?”
“Please do.”
Loik, who was standing beside me, shot the priest a sharp look, but Miel approached me anyway. Though his posture was a bit hesitant, he stepped close and took my wrist.
After a long silence, Miel lowered my hand, his face filled with certainty.
“It is certain. Your Highness possesses holy power of a purity higher than anyone else’s.”
Miel straightened his back, boldly claiming that even the High Priest’s holy power likely wasn't this pure.
“Of course, the seal must be completely broken for you to manifest it.”
“That… that can’t be right.”
I asked him several times, but Miel’s answer remained the same.
Annette was the fake saintess. Because she failed to manifest holy power for ten years after her birth, she was branded a fraud. Nearly all of Annette’s misfortunes began from that moment.
If I were to say now that Annette—that I—have holy power, what would happen?
‘And if it’s holy power that surpasses even the High Priest’s…’
Does this mean I’m the real Saintess?
“I was skeptical at first as well…” Miel said, choosing his words carefully. “But after examining Your Highness’s condition last time, I had no choice but to be certain.”
He spoke with a resolute face.
“Your Highness is undoubtedly the Saintess.”
“That’s impossible.”
A wave of discomfort and confusion washed over me. If I’m the Saintess, then what about Constine, the Saintess from the original story?
There can’t be two Saintesses in one world.
‘Which means one of us is a fake.’
If it’s not me, then could it be…?
Is Constine certain that she is the Saintess? Or is she merely ‘acting’ the part?
The sudden thought that the original story I knew was warping made the blood drain from my face.
Seeing me turn pale, Loik grabbed my hand firmly.
“Ah, I’m just… a bit overwhelmed…”
My shoulders shook involuntarily.
“Leave us.”
Loik wrapped an arm around my shoulders and spoke in a low, commanding voice. A startled Miel bowed his head and hurried out of the room.
“Annette, look at me.”
It was that same feeling I’d had at the cafe. My chest tightened as if someone were squeezing my heart.
“Annette, look at me.”
Gasping for air, I managed to lift my head. Loik was staring at me with a steady, unwavering gaze.
“I can’t… it’s so tight. I can’t breathe.”
At my words, Loik didn't hesitate. His large hands moved to my back and tore open the ribbons constricting my waist.
Once he loosened the laces at the front as well, breathing became a little easier.
Loik pulled me into his embrace and slowly stroked my back. Matching my rhythm to his touch, my breathing gradually returned to normal.
“Do you feel better?”
When I gave a small nod, Loik let out a sigh of relief. He gently massaged my hands.
“I’m sorry. I should have waited until you were more composed.”
“How is that your fault, Loik?”
Just moments ago, my body had been stiff with tension, but the warmth of his embrace made me go limp with relief.
“I think I was just a little surprised.”
“It was certainly enough to surprise anyone.”
I was grateful for his tender response.
Come to think of it, my dress had slipped down to my shoulders. The front was undone, leaving my slip clearly visible.
“No matter how urgent it was… is it really alright to just undress a lady like this?”
I made the joke to show him I was feeling better, but Loik responded with a serious face.
“You aren't just any lady. You are my wife.”
An inexplicable sense of security settled over my fears.
Perhaps… for the first time in my life, I wasn't alone.
It was okay. There was no need to be afraid.
If it was this man, he would find a way to help me no matter what happened.
“You’ll stay by my side, right, Loik?” I asked, burying my face in his chest.
“...Of course.”
Understanding my meaning, Loik spoke softly into my ear.
“So, Annette, you don't need to worry about a thing.”
Don't be afraid.
You’ve been doing so well until now.
The sudden appearance of shamans, dragons, and saintesses was surreal and terrifying, but for now, this warmth was enough to help me endure.
I lifted my head from his chest.
“We’ve only kissed once today.”
At those words, Loik made a strange face, looking like a man trying desperately to suppress a laugh.
Pressing his lips together, he leaned down toward me instead of answering.
Soon, his black hair was tickling my forehead.