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Chapter 8
That short letter kept me up almost all night. Unfortunately, I still couldn’t figure out its meaning.
“It feels like there’s a code hidden in it.”
There had to be. It wasn’t a rejection, so there was no way he just read my scenario and plan and gave a flat answer.
I exhaled and glanced around. I needed to let Hares know that I hadn’t deciphered the code. It was unacceptable for such a ridiculous snag to ruin the plan.
“Clara. If you spot Duke Gray, let me know.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Time went by. Even as the selection ceremony for the Saintess drew closer, Hares was nowhere to be seen. Not even a glimpse of his blond hair.
“Huh?”
Clara flinched, then shook her head. Looking at the window, it seemed she had mistaken Whisler for Hares.
“My lady.”
“I know, it’s impossible to delay any longer.”
Checking my pocket watch, I stepped out of the carriage alone. For the first and second rounds of the ceremony, unlike the third, maids or attendants weren’t allowed to participate.
Holding the invitation, I walked toward the temple. Whisler’s face darkened as soon as he spotted me. He had been waiting, and fell into step beside me as we entered.
“Philena.”
I was about to ignore him when I realized something important. The only method of revenge I had discussed with Hares so far was the affair. And since this revenge had no time limit, I needed patience.
Most importantly, we weren’t officially broken up. I had to stay calm, detached, and rational, just as usual.
“Your face looks gaunt. Was the journey that difficult?”
“It wasn’t exactly easy.”
“No, it must have been. Even your voice sounds lifeless right now.”
“Does it?”
“That’s how it seems. Apparently, while hurting me, you still managed to enjoy yourself with someone else…”
Whisler shuddered pitifully, as though wronged and sorrowful about the rumors that I had cheated. Unlike before, a chill emanated from him. He seemed intent on painting himself as the victim.
So that’s how acting should be done, I thought. Observing him might not be a bad way to sharpen my own performance.
Inside, a high round podium awaited us. At each end of the wall stood rear doors, through which the clergy entered via the connecting corridor.
“…We’ll talk in detail later. Let’s sit first.”
I sat beside Whisler in the very front row. Not by choice—it was my designated seat.
High Priestess Brianna Pureeast ascended the podium, followed by several priests and priestesses veiled and covered in cloth. Watching the mixed group of men and women, a thought crossed my mind.
“That priest there… looks a bit like Hares.”
The man, whose eyes alone were visible, had a height and build similar to Hares. It was too far to judge properly, so the thought was absurd.
“Thank you all for gracing this occasion with your presence. With the strength you bring, I dare hope that today, together, we will welcome the Saintess.”
I scanned the room one last time, but still couldn’t find Hares. The only person catching my eye was Mille, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed young woman.
The heroine of this novel—and the soon-to-be Saintess. Likely the very guest Whisler had invited.
“Is Hares waiting outside?”
The scene where he and I clash and cause a minor commotion was the most important part of the plan. Maybe he was preparing for that highlight moment.
“Since only a few know he’s returned from studying abroad, skipping attendance is possible.”
“Mother, following Your teaching, we pledge our lives not to the past or the future, but to this present. Only when we obey Your prophecy shall we glimpse the future. And now, our temple and the Imperial family shall represent that chance—so let us give thanks for this honor first.”
The High Priestess raised her clasped hands to the heavens. The prayer, which seemed about to begin, stopped abruptly. Stepping back to gather power, the priests formed a circle.
This was where things became serious. One by one, the clergy stepped forward, pressing hands to their chests and proclaiming:
“Lady Cynthia! We declare the honor that You share with us!”
Their fingertip pointed toward a duke.
That was how the selection ceremony worked. It was political—a chance to subtly honor the nobles who were key supporters. The High Priestess mentioning the temple and the Imperial family earlier was the same sort of gesture.
“Lady Cynthia! We declare the future that You share with us!”
This time, another priest pointed at Whisler. He looked uneasy as he gave a small wave. Soon, more lines would follow—about destiny, fortune, prestige.
Then, the priest I thought resembled Hares stopped. He turned in my direction and drawled:
“Lady Cynthia! We declare the beauty that You share with us!”
“…?”
What?
His finger was pointing at me.
And beauty? Such a proclamation was wholly unsuited to this ceremony.
Yes, appearance could bring delight, but it had nothing to do with guaranteeing the future. This was a political occasion for reaffirming loyalty by reciting the social standing of the nobility. Beauty had no place here.
“And me?”
There was no reason for me to be mentioned at all. To highlight the ‘villainess’ would only dampen the mood.
I wasn’t the only one flustered—the whole place buzzed with confusion.
Whisler muttered under his breath, just for me to hear.
“He must have been nervous. To make such a mistake.”
I gave a vague nod and clapped politely, as custom required. Those glaring unpleasantly also joined in, responding with strained formality.
“Still… of all people, to point at her…”
“Exactly. Even if it was a mistake, that’s too much. Not amusing at all.”
“Perhaps it was just meant as a joke? Days like this tend to overheat the atmosphere. We should just take it that way.”
Their voices were loud enough for me to hear. But I barely cared. For some irrational reason, that priest still seemed exactly like Hares to me.
Then, as our eyes met, the man narrowed his eyes and sent me a playful wink.
In that moment, I was certain. That was Hares.
Why is Hares standing there among the clergy?
Today, it seemed he wasn’t going to follow the scenario. Then what did “See you then” in the letter mean?
It sounded more like a promise to greet me.
If there was no hidden code, then that was the only interpretation—that Hares, in that guise, would approach me.
What a surprise. Truly a surprise.
“The time of selection has arrived.”
The High Priestess stepped to the center of the podium. The clergy encircled its edge.
“Let us now receive the Saintess.”
A radiant light erupted at the center of the podium. So dazzling and immense, it was impossible to keep one’s eyes open.
Slowly, the brilliance seeped into the staves held by the High Priestess and clergy. From there, the beams converged into a single direction.
“Huh? What?”
The light shone upon Mille. The Saintess had been chosen.
The clergy immediately recited the refrain again, as if waiting for this moment:
“You shall be the honor of our Empire.”
“You shall be the future of our Empire.”
Not a single staff wavered. Mortals dared not shift the divine light.
Finally, it was Hares’ turn. A familiar voice carried out from behind the cloth covering his face.
“You shall be the Empire’s—”
Silence fell. His staff suddenly turned toward me.
The light he controlled no longer shone on Mille, but illuminated me.
“—beauty.”
The room went deathly quiet. Though the atmosphere froze, the nobles and clergy did not react. Or rather, they couldn’t.
No one knew whether this was a new procedure or a mistake. The confidence in his words left everyone in turmoil.
“Philena Light, you are the most beautiful person to me.”
At that instant, Hares leapt down from the podium. He hurled his staff aside without hesitation, brushing past the reaching hands of other clergy.
The world is slowing down.
He landed perfectly, tore off his veil, and dashed toward me. Though fast, his every movement appeared clearly, as if time itself had bent.
Hares lifted me from my seat and threw a glance at Whisler, accompanied by a mischievous wink.
“Didn’t I tell you? I’d steal Philena right out of the selection ceremony.”
