The Priestess's Burden
Ah, this is going to get me in trouble.
The priestess—Seoryeong—thought this as she hastily pulled her disheveled veil back into place, meeting the startled gaze of the man staring at her face.
“……”
He was probably an outsider. Having spent the past five years in the capital with nothing to do but people-watch, Seoryeong could tell at a glance.
He might have been trying to hide it, but the way he stood already set him apart from ordinary folk.
He was likely the son of some high official concealing his identity, or perhaps a distinguished person from another country.
“Priestess.”
That was why, when the woman beside her—the one acting as both escort and watcher—approached and called out in a low voice,
“Yes. Let’s head back now.”
Seoryeong pretended nothing was wrong. She shot a quick glance at the man who was still staring fixedly at her, then rose to her feet, lightly brushing off the area around her hips where her clothes had gotten tangled.
His mood feels a bit strange… Well, it’s not like we’ll ever cross paths again.
At least he had been standing right in front of her, so no one else had seen her eyes. That was a relief.
“Ugh, that hurts.”
Because she had moved so roughly earlier while chasing down that little pickpocket, her chest had bounced around painfully. She cradled it gently with both arms, making a pitiful face beneath her veil.
* * *
The being who existed to ward off disasters descending upon the nation—the Disaster Ward Priestess.
“Priestess. Here is today’s schedule.”
“Eh, you’re already here? It’s so early today.”
The fundamental duty of the Disaster Ward Priestess was to perform rituals for the sake of the country.
Sometimes for the royal family’s well-being.
Sometimes for the nation’s peace.
But how many rituals could there truly be for the well-being of the royal family and the country?
If such things happened too often, the people would only grow anxious.
So unless there was a special occasion, she would perform rituals at the request of those who paid hefty sums to the shrine she belonged to. …Whether they actually worked, even she wasn’t sure.
“As you know, the civil service examination is coming up soon. The scholars preparing for it wish to pray for good fortune.”
Seoryeong—the priestess—let out a small sigh and nodded at the woman who approached the pavilion where she sat, bowing respectfully. The woman was her escort and watcher.
“How annoying.”
“Priestess.”
“I know, I know. I’ll get ready right away. Tell them I’ll be there in half a shichen.”
“Also, regarding what happened at the market this morning—”
“That… couldn’t be helped. They only saw my eyes, so can’t you let it slide?”
The woman’s face grew stern, as if about to scold her for letting an outsider see her unusual golden eyes during her early morning trip to the market.
“It’s not like I wanted to end up looking like this.”
Seoryeong pouted in dissatisfaction and thrust her hands forward demonstratively.
—Both hands, covered in blue scales.
Blue Scales
Covering both arms up to the wrists and both legs up to the shins. A mark of the dragon’s favor.
“I’ll be more careful next time, so please stop nagging me.”
“……”
“At least no one saw my hands, feet, horns, or tail.”
Just as she said, Seoryeong’s appearance was far too alien to be considered fully human.
Blue scales covered her skin from just above her wrists to her elbows and from her shins down to her ankles.
Tap, tap.
Even the thick tail that thumped discontentedly against the pavilion floor.
“The previous priestesses never had anything like this. Why am I the only one? Seriously.”
Seoryeong muttered as she stroked the tuft of fur at the end of her plump tail, which she had artfully brought forward.
“It simply means the dragon has taken a great liking to you, Priestess.”
“I don’t need that kind of favor.”
Her escort, Jina, could only let out a soft sigh as she listened to Seoryeong’s usual complaints.
“…After the ritual ends, a purification bath has been scheduled.”
“Oh, really?”
If she didn’t occasionally dangle such bait, her master would pout and grumble all day long.
“Yes.”
For some reason, Seoryeong was always genuinely delighted by the purification bath—the ritual where the shrine’s priestesses gathered to cleanse body and mind. Jina breathed a sigh of relief at the sight.
“However, I have recently heard from others that your gaze has been rather… intense.”
“Ugh.”
“Please be mindful.”
“Yeees…”
Jina wondered seriously whether Seoryeong, who had been offered to the dragon and was bound to remain pure, had simply turned her desires toward women instead.
“Then I shall go help prepare for the ritual. Call for me if you need anything.”
“Got it.”
After Jina left, still sighing,
“…Was I staring too obviously?”
Seoryeong scratched her head with an awkward expression, recalling what Jina had said.
But becoming a woman only gave me one good thing. What else can I do?
Though she often heard that her face was quite beautiful, until five years ago she had been a healthy young man. After drinking the strange drug delivered through a substitute, she had become a woman. Upon officially becoming a priestess, she had also gained this monstrous form… but fundamentally, what she liked was still women.
Setting aside her monstrous body, the two full fruits on her chest were so luscious that the old Seoryeong would have been unable to look away. Her snow-white skin, slender waist, and wide hips only added to it.
It was a body so beautiful that she still sometimes wondered if it truly belonged to her. Yet precisely because she knew it was hers, it felt strangely off-putting. That was why she turned her gaze outward.
Well, looking a little won’t hurt.
After all, every woman who became a priestess was exceptionally beautiful. It would be a waste not to look.
“Speaking of which, the civil service exam…”
Seoryeong rose slowly and began preparing to change into her ritual robes. She tilted her head, genuinely puzzled.
“…Isn’t the exam something you take with your head? Why would they need luck?”
It was truly baffling, but if they said they needed it, what could she do? As someone who lived off the scraps that fell from performing her duty as the Disaster Ward Priestess—enough to buy snacks like today—she had no choice but to comply without complaint.
Squish, squish.
As if seeking peace of mind, Seoryeong kneaded her own chest with her hands.
“Mmm… Time to get moving.”
With the monologue that had become completely habitual, she stretched grandly and began walking out of the flower garden once more.
* * *
Half a shichen later.
“I am the Disaster Ward Priestess, Seo Seoryeong.”
She wore an outfit prepared especially for the Disaster Ward Priestess—similar to her morning attire but slightly different—along with a milky-white outer robe. Various ornaments dangled from her as she appeared.
“……”
She had definitely been told they wanted a ritual to pray for good fortune ahead of the civil service exam. With that thought in mind, she quietly looked around.
“Ooh, so that’s the one…!”
“Indeed, what a truly mystical appearance.”
What they saw was hair like pure white silk, vertically slit golden eyes, and yellow horns shaped like coral sprouting from her head.
She hadn’t even revealed her tail or the scales on her hands and feet yet, but the people who had requested the ritual were already staring at her as if she were some exotic creature.
It was a familiar occurrence. Seoryeong’s body belonged to her, yet it did not.
Remember this: The Disaster Ward Priestess must never lose composure, no matter the situation.
Your life is offered to the dragon. Think only of that.
Never forget that your body is not your own.
If you falter, disaster will descend upon the nation. Therefore, always conduct yourself with propriety.
Home? That is not permitted. If you leave this place, calamity will strike every region and many will die.
Do not worry. As long as you serve the dragon, not only your family but this entire nation shall know peace.
With the start of the ritual, Seoryeong quietly killed her heart.
I am the Disaster Ward Priestess. The one who receives calamity in the nation’s stead.
She recalled the words that had been whispered endlessly in her ears for the past five years.
My body is offered to the dragon. I must follow the commands of the nation and the shrine.
Before the people who sipped their drinks while treating her as entertainment, the priestess danced.
She possessed no specialized shamanic knowledge.
She had simply learned how to sing and dance. Sing and dance with that beautiful body and voice to please the dragon. To please the nation.
That was all she had learned in the past five years.
Therefore, what she performed was no longer truly a ritual… yet the one person dancing beneath everyone’s gaze—Seoryeong herself—did not realize it.
Five years was far too long a time to shatter the world a sixteen-year-old boy had lived in and rebuild it anew.