Chapter 87
Chapter 87
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 86
Chapter Title: Loneliness and Rumors
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Once, Rachel had asked Enoch whether hair color was related to divine grace.
At that time, Enoch had replied that it was both yes and no.
The power of the Lux God was tied to light, so those who directly received his divine power or blessing would have their hair lighten, regardless of their original genetics.
Even those with dark hair could see it brighten if they possessed divine power.
Conversely, exposure to magic—the antithesis of divine power—could darken one's hair.
However, since genetic laws fundamentally applied, hair color alone couldn't definitively mark someone as a black sorcerer.
The Emporus family was a particularly unique case, seemingly influenced by demons using their power to identify contractor candidates.
Since it was a case of demons acting independently, there were no channels drawing magic to non-contractors, which was why even priests couldn't detect it.
'Black and red hair combining to produce red and silver—an otherworldly class trick.'
Rachel nodded as she gazed at the crown prince's portrait.
The three princes born to the First Queen were all handsome, while only Demian, born to the Second Queen, had an ordinary appearance.
'Unlike the hair, at least the First Queen's genes pulled their weight in looks. Lucky.'
Rachel truly believed that.
"I'm really curious—how did His Majesty end up taking the Second Queen as his wife when the First Queen is so beautiful?"
It was an incredibly rude question, but Rachel knew Carion wouldn't get angry over it.
She could ask because she knew the First Queen wasn't plain and had borne the king three sons, proof of his great favor.
"My mother had quite a cold personality. She never smiled once in front of Father and always acted aloof, so maybe he was drawn to a coquettish woman?"
He ended with a question, but his words carried thorns. Though not his birth mother, the Second Queen was still his mother in relation to him, yet he demoted her to 'a coquettish woman.'
"Still, Mother quite favored my eldest brother. Maybe because he's the firstborn?"
As Rachel watched his profile, she realized he had grown up receiving less parental love than she'd thought.
Unconsciously, she patted his back, and Carion blinked down at her.
"Why?"
"Pardon?"
"Why are you patting my back?"
"Well, it just felt like something I should do?"
At her nonchalant response, he suddenly stepped back. His expression showed a hint of distaste, leaving Rachel flustered.
"Your Highness, why are you doing that all of a sudden?"
"I don't know. I just felt really weird. What did you do to me?"
"Nothing?"
"Ugh, no kidding—for real, I felt strange just now. Didn't she do something? Like using some weird witch ritual?"
"I didn't sense anything like that. And Rachel is not a witch."
"I can't paint the portrait today. I'll make time later, so just do Enoch's."
Carion left those words for the painter and hurriedly fled the atelier. Before the door closed, Rachel shouted at the back of his head.
"Your Highness, if you're leaving, at least tell the executive office! You have to!"
There was no reply. The door shut, and Rachel pulled up a chair beside the painter and sat.
"Why did he suddenly act like that?"
"If I may be so bold, Prince Carion is a lonely soul, so genuine comfort from another might feel unfamiliar to him."
She had asked Enoch, but the painter answered. Rachel blinked at him.
"His childhood was quite lonely."
"His Highness's?"
"Yes. So perhaps your kindness frightened him."
Rachel knew that feeling. It was what she'd always felt toward the volunteers who visited the orphanage.
There were many children but few teachers. Affection wasn't divided equally among everyone, and to young Jung Yu-ri, the teachers' attention always felt too scarce.
So when volunteers first came to the orphanage, she was thrilled. Their embraces were so warm, giving her the ample attention teachers couldn't provide.
But when evening came, they left easily, abandoning the crying children who begged them to stay.
She had cried and thrown tantrums, even offering the candies she'd saved, unwilling to part with them. Yet they made awkward faces and turned away. Her efforts were futile.
After such incidents repeated countless times, Jung Yu-ri grew afraid of the hands they extended.
Knowing they'd leave even if she grew attached, she decided to ignore them instead. That was the first surrender in Jung Yu-ri's memory.
"But His Highness has parents..."
"The First Queen couldn't be a warm mother to him."
"Wouldn't a wet nurse have cared for him as a prince?"
"His Highness's wet nurse died early."
Even so, Rachel couldn't understand why Carion would feel that way.
Misfortune and happiness were relative, but Carion had grown up in abundant circumstances.
There had been no fierce succession struggles until he reached adulthood, and he had rarely faced life-threatening dangers.
Word was he loved reading books so much that he practically lived in the library.
She couldn't comprehend how someone who had enjoyed everything he wanted could feel emotions similar to those of an orphan like herself.
Did her reaction seem lukewarm? The painter continued with words he shouldn't have.
"His distrust of women likely stems from childhood experiences as well."
"Is that common knowledge?"
Rachel wasn't curious about Carion's childhood. What mattered more was whether others knew of his distrust of women.
Realizing too late he'd said too much, the painter coughed.
"Ahem. Those in the know are aware."
Rachel squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. She understood why the king wasn't fond of Carion.
Producing an heir was of utmost importance to the king—and the nobles as well.
Yet most people knew Carion avoided women? The king must know too, of course.
'It's not about merits or achievements!'
In Rachel's judgment, if Carion suddenly declared he had a woman he loved, the king would gladly hand over the throne.
'Of course, he'd check her status and family, but if push came to shove, he'd probably allow her as a consort?'
"But isn't His Highness very appealing?"
Rachel couldn't deny the painter's words.
She thought of him as a gigolo brother due to his rudeness toward her, but objectively, Carion was attractive.
'Good looks, power too. After the crown prince's death, he's seen as the next king candidate, so he must be popular.'
In Kudath, where a husband's strength and authority became his wife's, Carion was a highly desirable marriage partner.
"Lady Peristera, you spend a lot of time close to Prince Carion—do you have no desire to take him as your spouse?"
At the painter's question, Rachel clamped her mouth shut. She nearly burst out laughing at the absurdity.
"Pfft. Marriage to Prince Carion? Hard pass."
"Why not? His side is a lofty position, isn't it? I thought a capable and ambitious woman like you would naturally aim for it..."
"Not only do I have no interest, but even if it happened, it'd be a spot where you'd die from knife attacks. Beds need to be peaceful."
"Is that so? Yet you look in a good mood, Prince Enoch."
At the painter's words, Rachel glanced at Enoch, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"Beds need to be peaceful. Rachel is right. I'll strive for peaceful rest as well."
Rachel thought Enoch was wasting effort on something irrelevant but didn't say it.
***
Dong, dong, dong.
The clock tower bells rang out. Rachel stretched at the sound signaling the end of the workday.
"Good work today."
"Yeah, see you tomorrow."
Rachel donned her cloak and left the executive office.
The season when wheat bowed its head had passed, and harvest time had arrived.
Unlike past rounds ruined by torrential rains, this round saw grains revive and form plump kernels.
Not every region had a bountiful yield, but the southern areas visited by L'Rekeia enjoyed good harvests.
"Did you hear? They say a saintess appeared."
"Lady Nerus, right?"
"They say the grass revives wherever she passes."
"Really?"
"True or not, the farmers are hailing her as a saintess."
Whispers drifted from all around. Few nobles were purely joyful at the improved national treasury.
Even now, they were gauging whom to support.
"Lady Nerus is engaged to the Fourth Prince, isn't she?"
"His Majesty hasn't decided who to pass the throne to yet."
"Perhaps the throne will go to..."
Rachel ignored the nobles' murmurs as she passed through the corridor.
Demian wasn't even in the running. The nobles speculated it would be Carion or Enoch.
'Enoch isn't interested in the throne to begin with.'
Carion wasn't idle either. With the king gravely ill and no crown prince, he naturally participated in state affairs in the king's stead, offering opinions that earned favorable reviews among the nobles.
'Tax reductions in poor harvest areas alongside relief efforts—public sentiment isn't bad either.'
This round was the most peaceful of any Rachel had seen.
And good fortune had come to Rachel too. About two months ago, pink diamonds were discovered in the mine given to her as a reward from Carion.
Two weeks later, that famous 5,000-carat diamond rough was found.
Rachel didn't believe the rough itself was cursed.
But in repeated rounds, the owner of the largest chunk after cutting had lost their life.
Clearly, someone had cursed that diamond, and it could happen this round too. To avoid giving any pretext, Rachel decided against it.
She didn't cut the diamond rough. Instead, through the temple's intermediary, she commissioned a devout jeweler and sculptor faithful to Lux to carve a statue of the Lux God from the rough.
The mediating priest was shocked, as were the artisans, but Rachel had no intention of changing her mind.
"Rachel!"
A voice calling her name echoed from the end of the corridor. Rachel looked up.
The source of the rumors stood there.
"Lady Nerus."
L'Rekeia was taken aback. After two months away from the capital, her friend offered no hug, only formal address.
But Rachel's choice of title was deliberate. At her words, the nobles chattering as they passed through the corridor snapped their mouths shut like clamshells.
L'Rekeia scanned the atmosphere, figuring her friend must have some scheme.
"What wind blew you to address me so formally?"
"Many people are talking about you, so I tried it out."
"Huh? Was there reason for talk about me?"
"They call you a saintess."
"Haha! Don't joke! Me, a saintess? As if."
Numerous gazes focused on Rachel and L'Rekeia. L'Rekeia realized Rachel wasn't lying.
Grabbing Rachel's arm, she dragged her to the end of the corridor, out of the nobles' sight.
"I-is it true? Real rumors like that?"
"Yeah."
Confirming no other nobles around, Rachel spoke casually.
"No way. I was called a witch, and now I'm being called a saintess?!"