Chapter 2

* * *

Twitch.

Beneath tightly shut eyelids, a pair of eyes moved.

The first person to notice was Celine, an apprentice priestess who had been guarding the room while yawning so widely it seemed her mouth might split apart.

“Huh? H-Huhhhh?!”

Crash!

The sound of someone falling over echoed loudly.

Celine was no stranger to punishment. Her careless behavior often got her into trouble. The only reason she had been assigned to guard the “Vessels” lying here like corpses today was because she had spilled water from a flower vase in a corridor that the Archbishop was walking through yesterday.

Well, actually, under normal circumstances, that alone wouldn’t have been enough for a mere apprentice priestess to be assigned to something as important as guarding a Vessel.

The vase incident was merely an excuse.

There was another reason the duty had fallen to her.

Seven Vessels lay inside coffins while still alive.

And now, they were no longer useful.

Rumors had been spreading throughout the Holy Imperial Court lately.

The summoning ritual, which had been performed with a thousand days of devotion and prayer, had apparently failed.

Seven hundred years ago, the Holy Imperial Court had established the Vessel system to summon Holy Ones more reliably and securely.

Since then, not a single summoning had ever failed.

Yet a full week had passed since the ritual ended, and none of the prepared Vessels had shown any reaction.

As a result, people had gradually begun believing that the Holy One simply disliked the chosen Vessels.

According to the rules, someone of Celine’s low status wasn’t even allowed near a Vessel.

Even sitting guard here should have required at least the rank of deacon.

However, Celine had overheard that the Court intended to wait only until tomorrow before sending all the Vessels back to their families.

Only then did she understand why she had been assigned this duty.

Guarding a Vessel’s coffin was supposed to be a glorious task entrusted to God’s servants.

But if they had already decided to send them back?

Then spending the final night watching over them was merely a tedious chore.

All the priests and deacons were interested only in one thing:

Who would become the next chosen Vessel?

And yet, while pinching her thigh to stay awake, she had somehow witnessed something incredible.

“A Holy One! It’s a Holy One!”

Celine shouted so loudly that the entire corridor shook.

Her drowsiness vanished instantly.

Tomorrow everyone would be jealous of her.

She had personally witnessed the descent of a Holy One!

An apprentice like her!

Already imagining herself bragging about this for the next ten years, she grabbed the emergency bell rope and pulled it with all her strength.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

“The chosen body belongs to that mad do—! Ahem! To the daughter offered by the House of Roermel of the Summer Enclosure!”

That single sentence turned the entire Holy Imperial Court upside down.

* * *

It was an unfamiliar ceiling.

Only now did she realize something.

When reading novels, she had never understood that people capable of opening their eyes, grasping the situation within three seconds, and immediately saying,

“This isn’t my ceiling.”

were actually exceptionally intelligent and courageous individuals.

Reality was quite different from fiction.

When she first awoke wearing clothes that looked as though someone had simply cut a sheet of cloth and draped it over her, she couldn’t understand the situation at all.

If she had to explain why, it felt as though she were clinging to the remains of a broken raft while drifting at sea.

Her consciousness was hazy.

Her arms hung limply like clothes soaked in saltwater.

Her legs felt covered in moss and refused to move.

Even speaking was difficult.

Her throat burned and scratched painfully.

Whether she was a living person on the verge of death or already dead and trapped inside an immobile body, the conclusion remained the same.

Even blinking required effort.

“Are you alright? Ah, right! We learned that we have to massage your arms immediately after your descent. You can’t feel your body, can you? That’s normal! They said it’s because your soul and body are separated. You’ll be fine in a few days. Let me help!”

What was she talking about?

A girl with amber eyes and curly brown hair suddenly appeared in her blurry vision.

The girl spoke excitedly and nonstop.

Her puppy-like face didn’t seem threatening.

That alone eased some of her caution.

Or perhaps she simply lacked the strength to be wary.

When she swallowed, however, her dry throat felt as though it might tear apart.

Her eyes watered from the pain.

A nurse?

Or maybe a caregiver?

She doesn’t look older than fifteen.

Whoever she was, perhaps asking for water would be reasonable.

But would that even work if they didn’t speak the same language?

Countless thoughts drifted through her foggy mind.

Yet nothing emerged from her lips.

Only rough breaths.

Where am I?

“In a little while, the Archbishop will arrive! O-Or maybe His Highness the Crown Prince will come first. He happens to be here today! But why did you choose this body of all things? There were so many prettier ones over there… Ah! That doesn’t mean you’re ugly! You’re extremely beautiful! It’s just… this body belongs to that mad dog woman—Ahem!”

The girl continued chattering cheerfully.

Judging by her appearance, she looked like she came from some unknown Eastern European country.

The language wasn’t English.

Nor German.

Nor French.

It wasn’t Arabic either, a language she had once halfheartedly tried learning after being nagged to improve herself.

She couldn’t understand a single word.

Still, judging from the girl’s uniform, she seemed to belong to some organization.

Surely an adult would arrive soon and explain everything.

That expectation allowed her to remain strangely calm.

Or perhaps it was merely the calmness of someone avoiding reality.

Her listless gaze wandered across the unfamiliar mural painted on the ceiling.

The artwork was magnificent.

But completely unfamiliar.

Certainly not something found in a hospital.

The scent lingering in the air wasn’t hospital disinfectant either.

It was warmer.

Softer.

Yet sharp at the edges.

If she had to compare it to something, it resembled the aroma used in massage parlors.

A fragrance meant to soothe the mind.

Let’s think calmly.

First… I don’t remember being in an accident.

The last thing she remembered was shouting.

A frustrated, tearful shout.

“It’s all your fault!”

“Go away! You’re annoying!”

Her younger sibling.

A child who had never once failed to get what they wanted.

After a global pandemic prevented travel, their tantrums had only grown worse with each passing day.

What happened after that?

She remembered leaving home.

Exhausted.

Walking aimlessly.

And then?

“……”

Her eyes stung.

After blinking several times, her thoughts cleared slightly.

But her memories remained fragmented.

She only remembered a flash of light.

I need to ask where I am first.

And why she couldn’t even sit up.

No.

If she were honest, there was something she wanted to ask even more.

Is this perhaps a hospital that performs euthanasia?

Her mother, a world-famous pianist, had never been affectionate.

A perfectionist by nature, she couldn’t accept that her own daughter lacked talent.

Fortunately, the younger sibling born a year later had inherited every gift their mother desired.

As a result, the mother’s gaze toward her had only grown colder.

Life had become increasingly exhausting.

Perhaps she had eventually begged for euthanasia herself.

The thought was absurd.

Yet she was desperate enough to consider impossible possibilities.

After all, she did live in Switzerland alongside her wealthy mother and talented sibling.

Euthanasia wasn’t illegal there.

But no matter how much she wanted to ask, her lips refused to move.

The girl massaging her arms continued speaking without pause.

Then—

“What a shabby sight.”

A lazy, leisurely voice cut through the room.

A voice that somehow erased all other sounds.

“Have you regained your senses?”

The moment she heard it, a strange sensation ran through her stomach.

Her legs instinctively tightened together.

She had heard countless people praised for having beautiful voices.

But nothing like this.

This voice was overwhelmingly magnificent.

Superior.

“Of all choices, you selected the Summer Enclosure.”

“You’ve made things troublesome for me.”

A young man.

Judging from the situation, someone of extremely high status.

The unknown girl’s cheeks turned bright red as she bowed deeply.

A man.

The sudden realization made anxiety rise within her.

What if something terrible happened?

She could move her fingertips now.

But she still couldn’t sit up.

All she could do was raise her eyes slightly and look toward him.

Then—

She stopped breathing.

She hadn’t even seen his face directly.

Yet she froze.

Hair like molten gold shimmered at the edge of her vision.

Sun-kissed skin.

Golden eyelashes.

He wore what looked like royal ceremonial attire.

A white uniform adorned with golden epaulettes and a crimson sash.

The atmosphere surrounding him was so overwhelming that if he announced himself as a king, she would simply accept it without question.

“But there is no need to worry.”

“As long as you belong to me, I shall increase the value of every quality you possess.”

The mattress sank heavily.

Before she could even determine who he was, a large hand reached toward her.

She immediately flinched.

She feared people larger than herself.

Years of experience had engraved that response into her body.

And now she was lying helplessly in bed.

Being afraid was only natural.

“It displeases me when someone dares avoid me.”

His hand paused briefly.

Then, just as it seemed he might withdraw—

It shot forward and seized her chin.

Hard.

As though he intended to crush it.

The sudden pain shattered the numbness she had been hiding behind.

An unfamiliar man.

An unknown place.

A situation she couldn’t understand.

And finally—

What was my name?

A violent headache exploded inside her skull.

She wanted to curl up.

But the man showed no intention of releasing her.

At the same time, the scent around her deepened.

It resembled the fragrance already filling the room.

But this was heavier.

Oppressive.

Breathing became difficult.

It felt as though gravity itself were dragging her downward.

As though everything in the world should kneel beneath this man’s presence.

She smelled sandalwood.

Vanilla.

Mud.

The scent of earth where thousands of skeletons lay buried.

It was the smell of conquest.

The scent of a laurel crown.

And at the same time—

“Send word to Roermel.”

“Tell them that the poisonous weed rooted in the Summer Garden has finally blossomed.”

“Inform them that it has been sold for the highest possible price, and that they have profited handsomely from selling their daughter.”

“Y-Your Highness the Crown Prince! Must you truly phrase it that way? Duke Roermel—”

“Repeat my words exactly.”

“Or I shall twist off your head.”

The low, severe voice scraped against her ears.

She trembled.

His sharp nose.

His severe brows.

He didn’t appear sinister.

Nor openly evil.

Yet he possessed a savage intensity that seemed capable of crushing people beneath it.

And above all—

Those eyes.

The eyes of a beast ready to tear someone apart and devour them.

Golden pupils gleamed.

Her mind froze under their grip.

Do not provoke him.

Her instincts screamed the warning.

People with eyes like that were dangerous.

Everything about him suggested a man who had always gotten whatever he wanted.

A man born to rule.

To control.

To possess.

The type of person she hated most.

A supremacist.

Someone born with everything.

“……”

The thing that wiped every prejudice from her mind, however, was the transparent water bottle he lifted with his free hand.

“Do you want a drink?”