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Chapter 7
As the Grand Duke stepped out of the hall, the knights in black cloaks straightened at once.
Passing them without a hint of hesitation, he gave an order.
“Retrieve the gold coins we sent to that idiot priest.”
“Yes, sir!”
The adjutant answered in a voice snapped tight with discipline.
He immediately grabbed the priest standing beside him by the collar. It was the very priest who had made a huge fuss yesterday while guiding them, insisting that “this time she’s definitely the real Saint.”
“Hand it over.”
“I-I will!”
Clink.
Leaving behind the sound of the gold pouch dropping into the adjutant’s palm, the Grand Duke headed out of the temple.
Dawn was breaking.
The moment he stepped outside the temple—
Grand Duke Bledel felt something strange.
Without hesitation, he called out to the source.
“Hey, you. Beggar!”
“…!”
Sienna froze in panic. She had been about to leave the temple wall where she had spent the night, when the Grand Duke of Bledel called out to her.
Of all people—the male lead candidate.
“Y-you….”
Sienna bit her lip.
His cold, black eyes seemed ready to pierce straight through her.
Not a trace of humor touched his lips.
She shuddered involuntarily.
Should I run?
She considered it for a second, but she’d be caught before she even made ten steps.
Better to brazen it out.
Turning around, she forced a smile.
“Yes? Were you speaking to this humble one, my lord?”
She’d transmigrated into a romance fantasy—so why did she keep slipping into historical-drama speech?
The Grand Duke examined her from head to toe.
“Yes, you. Yesterday you were clearly limping. What happened?”
Is it because he’s a male lead? Does he even have sharp eyesight as a bonus?
“Ah, well, you see….”
What excuse should she make?
Feeling his gaze fixed on her, Sienna stalled for time. The way he stared at her was decadent—yet fierce.
He’s handsome, sure… but as a male lead, the Crown Prince might be better.
Better than a man who looks at the heroine like he’s hunting vermin.
She steadied herself and spoke.
“It was… neuralgia, you see. But since the weather’s nice… it got… better….”
“And that face.”
He had no intention of listening to her excuses.
With the tip of his sword sheath, he lifted her chin. Her mouth snapped shut automatically, and she rolled her eyes, pretending ignorance.
He narrowed his eyes, scanning her face carefully.
“Something’s changed. In just one day.”
The Grand Duke strode closer and reached out toward her face. Sienna flinched.
If he touches me, it’s over!
If she made contact with him, the holy power she couldn’t control would surely activate.
She twisted her body desperately.
“W-wait—!”
In that instant, she lost her balance and staggered badly.
“With healing power like this… could it be? Did you meet the Saint?”
His eyes roamed over her face from much closer now. His left hand supported her waist, while his right still gripped her collar.
Too startled to move, Sienna remained frozen.
“Who was it? Who healed you last night?”
His eyes gleamed.
His hand trembled faintly.
After all, he had finally found a trace of the Saint he had been searching for so long.
Meanwhile, Sienna couldn’t tear her gaze away from his face, now inches from hers.
Wow. So he really is male lead material… he’s dangerously attractive.
“I said, speak!”
He gave her collar a light shake.
His fingers brushed dangerously close to the back of her neck.
No! If bare skin touches—
She would end up living as nothing more than the Grand Duke’s personal cure, only to meet the same miserable death as in the original story.
That ending had to be avoided at all costs.
Sienna forced herself to focus.
“L-let me go, and I’ll tell you.”
After a brief hesitation, he released her.
As his hand withdrew from her skin, she let out a silent sigh of relief.
Both her feet had barely settled on the ground when a soft breeze blew from behind her. Her hair lifted and spilled toward the Grand Duke.
No!
Before she could step back, her hair brushed against his cheek.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
What if even her hair could transmit holy power?
“It seems even the Saint can’t fix a beggar girl’s slow tongue.”
Only after the cutting remark struck her ears did Sienna open her eyes. He was brushing her hair from his face in annoyance.
And no Saint in the world could fix that venomous tongue of yours.
She cursed silently and stepped back.
But then—
“Ow!”
This time, her hair snagged on the brooch fastening his cloak.
Startled, she grabbed the end of her hair from a distance and tugged. Unfortunately, it was firmly tangled in the silver loop.
“Ow! Why won’t it come out? I’m sorry, Your Grace. Just a moment….”
In the end, she reached toward the brooch to untangle it.
The Grand Duke sighed—and in the next moment—
Their fingers overlapped near the brooch.
His eyes widened to twice their usual size.
“You…?!”
Before she could pull away, he grabbed her hand.
The holy power lingering at her fingertips flowed into his body in an instant. The constant tension etched into his brow smoothed out immediately.
“This is….”
It was refreshing.
The first true comfort he had felt since the curse manifested.
“Grand Duke Bledel!”
From afar, the voice of Crown Prince Howlaner called out to him. Until that moment, the Grand Duke had lost himself completely.
It felt like grasping a rope thrown to him in the sea just before drowning.
“Your Grace!”
When Howlaner’s voice reached him again, only one thought filled the Grand Duke’s mind.
This woman will be mine.
No matter the cost.
When the next seizure comes, she must be by my side.
Ever since the curse had awakened, he suffered intermittent attacks—pain far beyond the constant dull ache he usually endured.
Agony so severe he wanted to bite through his own tongue even with a gag in his mouth.
He lived in fear of when the next attack would strike.
But this time would be different.
He had found the Saint.
The fact that the Saint was a beggar girl did not matter.
“Grand Duke! Bledel!”
As Howlaner called out a third time and approached, the only thought in Bledel’s head was that he had to secure the Saint first.
Sienna was combing through the hair torn by the brooch. Perhaps because of the pain, her eyes seemed faintly misted with tears.
Growing impatient, the Grand Duke extended his hand toward the beggar girl before him.
“I formally propose to you.”
Grand Duke Bledel smiled confidently—the ease of a man who had never been rejected in his life.
But contrary to his expectations, Sienna’s reply was swift and firm.
“I refuse.”
“Refuse?”
He was dumbfounded.
By now, the sun had fully risen. People began to gather, sensing an interesting spectacle. Beggars just waking up, early-morning temple visitors—everyone alike.
“Move along!”
The black knights of the Grand Ducal house shooed the onlookers away. The Grand Duke himself, however, seemed unconcerned.
The only thing pulling at his nerves was Howlaner, walking toward them from a distance.
He asked Sienna,
“Why are you refusing?”
“Excuse me? Why?”
This time, Sienna was the one taken aback.
Does he seriously think anyone would accept just because he proposed?
In a doubtful tone, she countered,
“Your Grace doesn’t love me, does he?”
“…I have a strong premonition that I will.”
“Yesterday you said I made you nauseous…?”
“…You seemed somewhat outside conventional moral standards, but upon closer look, I see individuality and charm.”
“You also called me a foolish clown.”
“…The fact that you don’t take offense at slander suggests an exceptional character.”
…Wow. He’s good with words.
Does the male-lead buff include eloquence too?
Desperately searching for another excuse to refuse, Sienna stepped backward.
He didn’t like that.
With a burning, earnest gaze, he stared straight at her.
