The Saintess Candidate Stays By My Side
The title of Imperial Protection Target sounded plausible enough. In reality, however, it differed little from being under surveillance. Two imperial knights were stationed outside my room, and at least one escort trailed after me whenever I moved between classes. Rumors had already exploded throughout the academy.
“Lord Diaren is under the princess’s protection?”
“I heard the saintess candidate stayed by his side in the infirmary all night.”
“Lady Bayern swings her sword in the training grounds every dawn like she’s trying to kill someone.”
“Does that mean all three of them are after Kyle Diaren…?”
Rumors always traveled faster than facts, and far more sensational. I felt the truth of it keenly from the very first day of my recovery.
The corridors of Saint Ignis Academy were already crowded with watchful eyes. The noble students read everything—collars, accessories, companions, expressions. To them, relationships were information, and information was power. In such a place, the rumor that the princess and the saintess candidate were locked in a silent battle over one male student was irresistible bait. And I stood at the center of that bait.
“Lord Kyle, please walk slowly.”
Aria spoke beside me.
“I’m fine. Walking is no longer a problem.”
“Whether it is a problem or not is for me to decide.”
“Is that the authority of the attending healer?”
“Yes.”
She smiled gently. Yet the hand gripping my sleeve was anything but gentle. She clearly had no intention of letting go.
I was on my way from the infirmary to the main building. Today’s schedule was not a return to regular classes, only a meeting with professors and a physical recovery assessment. Originally, I could have handled it alone, but Aria had insisted on accompanying me. Her reason was simple.
“I need to confirm your treatment status.”
With those words alone, she claimed the spot at my side. An imperial knight followed silently behind us. Passing students glanced our way and whispered. Aria holding my sleeve seemed to fuel their imaginations especially.
Aria Elowen was not the sort of person who clung to others. In the original story, she was kind to everyone yet never relied on anyone. She always stood one step behind, offering help to the wounded while quietly concealing her own feelings. That was why readers called her the Pure White Saintess.
Yet now she refused to release my sleeve. That single action was already tilting the balance of the original plot.
“Lady Aria.”
“Yes.”
“You may let go.”
Aria looked up at me.
“I don’t want to.”
The answer came instantly. I stopped walking.
“You don’t want to?”
“No.”
“May I ask why?”
She hesitated for only a moment before replying calmly.
“I feel that if I let go, Lord Kyle will get hurt again.”
I wanted to argue, but my recent track record offered no convincing rebuttal. Once in the Rose Garden, once in the combat training grounds, and again in the Rose Garden. At this rate, I was setting a new record for injuries in the early days of academy life.
“I don’t injure myself on purpose.”
“I know.”
Aria’s voice dropped slightly.
“That’s why it’s even more frightening.”
I had no reply. She continued walking in silence, still holding my sleeve. Her pure white hair caught the sunlight and glowed faintly. Several passing students blushed and turned their heads away.
Aria had been an overwhelmingly popular heroine even in the original story. Her status as a saintess candidate, her gentle nature, and her beautiful appearance drew people in. Now that same girl walked beside me. This was dangerous—politically, narratively, and emotionally.
Most dangerous of all was the fact that I did not find it entirely unpleasant.
When Aria was near, I felt at ease. When she held my hand, I could at least believe there was one person in this world who did not completely doubt me. That made it all the more perilous. I could not allow myself to grow accustomed to this feeling.
“Saintess Candidate.”
Someone called out from the end of the corridor. Turning, I saw two students from the Holy Church standing there, silver cross brooches pinned to their white uniforms. The taller male student stared at me with open displeasure. His name was Lucas Berin. In the original story, he was a minor Holy Church student who admired Aria, though that admiration sometimes twisted into a desire for control. After being logically bested by the protagonist, he would eventually reflect on his attitude—a small early conflict device. Now that same side character blocked my path.
“It does not seem appropriate for you to be with him.”
Aria’s hand paused. I sighed inwardly. This was expected. The Holy Church valued Aria greatly. She was not merely a student but one of the saintess candidates. If such a figure grew close to a disgraced noble with a notorious reputation, internal interference was inevitable.
Aria asked, “What do you mean?”
“Lord Diaren has yet to prove his complete innocence in the Rose Garden incident.”
“I have already testified that he is not the culprit.”
“Your merciful heart may be clouding your judgment, Saintess Candidate.”
That crossed the line. Aria’s gaze shifted ever so slightly. The usual gentle light vanished, replaced by the calm authority of holy doctrine.
“Are you saying my judgment is clouded?”
“I speak only out of concern.”
“Thank you for your concern.”
Aria smiled.
“But I decide whose hand I reach for.”
She deliberately moved her hand, still clutching my sleeve, so it was more visible. The Holy Church students’ expressions hardened.
“Saintess Candidate.”
Lucas’s voice carried both confusion and displeasure.
“That man has caused many problems in the past. He mocked the weak, injured others under the pretext of duels, and showed disrespect even to Her Highness the Princess. It is dangerous to trust him simply because he supposedly saved the saintess candidate.”
He was right. I knew the original Kyle had been that kind of person. That made it harder to respond. Even if I denied it now, the past accumulated under this body’s name would not disappear.
Aria’s grip on my sleeve tightened.
“Even so, we cannot erase what Lord Kyle has done now.”
“There is also the possibility that he is exploiting the saintess candidate’s compassion—”
“Watch your words.”
This time, I spoke. The corridor air seemed to freeze for a moment. I was surprised myself. Normally, staying silent would have been wiser. But the moment they questioned Aria’s judgment and implied I was using her, something inside me refused to endure it.
I looked at Lucas.
“I don’t mind being doubted. I understand that my name invites such suspicion.”
Lucas’s eyebrows twitched. He had not expected that answer.
“But do not insult Lady Aria’s testimony and judgment.”
“Do you have the right to say that, Lord Diaren?”
“Perhaps not.”
I took a step forward. The imperial knight behind me moved to intervene, but I raised a hand to stop him.
“That is precisely why I speak carefully. Even to someone unqualified, your remark just now was rude.”
Lucas’s face flushed red. Students began gathering around us. Conflict was always good entertainment at the academy—especially when it involved a fallen noble, a saintess candidate, and a Holy Church student.
Aria spoke softly. “Lord Kyle.”
Her voice held both worry and a trace of joy. The fact that I had defended her seemed to move her. I felt it too. That only made it more dangerous.
Then a cold voice cut in.
“If you wish to assert the Holy Church’s authority in the corridor, you should at least come prepared with logic.”
It was Rhea. She had appeared behind us at some point. The imperial knights immediately bowed their heads. The Holy Church students also hurried to offer proper greetings, visibly flustered.
“Your Highness the Princess.”
Rhea looked down at them.
“This incident involves the Black Moon. The imperial investigation takes precedence. Yet a Holy Church student attempts to sever the relationship between the victim and a witness first? How interesting.”
“That was not our intention.”
“Then what was it?”
Lucas could not answer. Rhea’s words carried political pressure. She was not merely scolding a student. If the Holy Church tried to control Aria and Kyle’s relationship ahead of the imperial investigation, it could be interpreted as overstepping authority. The students in the corridor sensed this and grew even quieter.
Rhea’s gaze flicked briefly to Aria’s hand holding my sleeve. It lasted only a moment, but I saw her eyes grow colder.
“Kyle.”
“Yes.”
“It is time for your meeting. Come with me.”
Aria spoke quietly. “Lord Kyle’s treatment confirmation is not yet complete.”
“Neither is the imperial investigation.”
“Then I suppose I should accompany him as well.”
Rhea looked at Aria.
“A saintess candidate has no authority to attend an imperial investigation.”
“A healer has the authority to confirm a patient’s condition.”
“Does that authority extend to the right to accompany the patient’s every movement?”
“Lord Kyle is not an ordinary patient.”
Aria’s reply was gentle yet unyielding. Rhea’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“I agree with that. He is not an ordinary troublesome patient.”
“Your Highness.”
I offered a small protest, but no one listened. The two women’s gazes clashed again. The students in the corridor held their breath. My head began to ache.
“Your Highness, Lady Aria.”
Both looked at me.
“Would it be all right if we went together?”
The moment the words left my mouth, both Rhea’s and Aria’s expressions shifted subtly. Aria brightened slightly; Rhea looked mildly displeased.
“Very well.”
“Unnecessary, but permitted.”
Why did the one granting permission sound more frightening?
In the end, I walked down the corridor with the princess on one side and the saintess candidate on the other. Behind us followed an awkward procession of an imperial knight and Holy Church students. Lucas watched us until the very end. His gaze held not only anger but anxiety—the anxiety that Aria was straying from the image of the saintess candidate he had known, and resentment toward the fact that Kyle Diaren stood at the center of it. That emotion could become dangerous later. I thought so.
And far down the corridor, at the corner, Noel Ignis was watching the scene. She was not smiling. Instead, she wrote something in a small notebook.
“The flow of the original story has completely changed.”
Noel muttered under her breath.
“Kyle Diaren. Because of you alone, the connections between the heroines are all shifting.”
She paused after writing the final sentence, then added a small note in one corner of the page:
— Rise in the saintess candidate’s dependency.
— Signs of the princess asserting ownership.
— Emergence of the knight lady’s guilt-based protective instinct.
— Internal backlash from the Holy Church. Lucas Berin may become a trigger for future relationship severance.
Noel tapped the sentence with the tip of her pen.
“This feels less like an observation log and more like a map of the romantic battlefield.”
Her eyes darkened.
“The problem is, the world will not simply leave this alone.”
Noel gazed toward the end of the corridor, in the direction Kyle and his companions had disappeared. At that moment, a single black feather drifted past the window on the wind—the first warning that no one had yet noticed.