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Chapter 1
How could life be this much of a dog’s existence?
“Lurutie Brücke, do you take Count Hind to be your husband?”
“Haah…”
Instead of an answer, the new bride, Lurutie, let out a long sigh.
As long as she was in her right mind, she couldn’t possibly accept Count Hind, standing beside her, as her husband. Leaving aside the fact that he was thirty years her senior, Hind was a marriage partner fraught with issues. Within less than a year, he was destined to have an affair with another woman and poison Lurutie to get her out of the way.
God really is indifferent.
She had barely escaped her father’s violence, only to be tormented by an unfaithful husband and die?
“Lurutie Brücke.”
As if her inner turmoil wasn’t enough, the priest standing on the altar pressed her. Since she was in the middle of the wedding, there was no choice. She had to get through the ceremony first and figure out the rest later.
“I…”
Lurutie raised her head to deliver her vows, but the words died in her throat. Right before her eyes stood a sculpture so flawless it belonged in a temple. Neat, finely kept silver hair. Clear, amethyst-like purple eyes. Even dressed in the priestly robes—the very symbol of celibacy—the sculpted figure radiated a quiet power.
“Please speak.”
What on earth am I supposed to say?
She had lost her train of thought, utterly spellbound by this immaculate statue.
“Can you not hear me?”
When Lurutie hesitated, the sculpture’s lips moved. It seemed he was human after all.
Who is this pretty statue again?
She had heard a passing rumor that the High Priest was supposed to officiate, but another priest replaced him right before the start. Among the clergy, age equaled experience. Looking to be in his early twenties at most, he seemed like a low-ranking priest who had just finished his training.
Hmm…
Thinking about it, this was her chance to ruin the wedding. She might actually be able to call off the marriage with Count Hind—the man destined to poison her.
“Forget the vows. Priest, do you have someone you like?”
The priest on the altar knit his brows slightly. “Are you speaking to me?”
“Yes.”
A holy man serving God could never pursue romantic love. Her question was thoroughly impolite. Instead of answering, the priest lowered his gaze, his eyelashes trembling faintly.
“So you don’t have anyone.”
“…”
“What a relief. Ask for as much alimony as you want.”
She wasn’t just speaking empty words. Her father, a man who valued family honor above all else, would certainly pay compensation to hush up the scandal.
Tossing her bouquet aside, Lurutie stole a kiss not from her husband, but from the priest’s lips.
She had expected them to be cold as marble, but his lips were warm and soft. It was a brief kiss, far too fleeting to savor proper impressions. Pulling her lips away, she offered the priest a bright smile—a look that meant ‘Don’t worry, just trust me.’ After all, though he had lost his kiss, he would return to his hometown with a large sum of money.
Whether the message failed to register or not, the kissed priest took a staggering step backward.
The hall, which had fallen silent for a split second, suddenly erupted into chaos—a chaotic blend of prayers, screams, whistles, and noise.
Through the din, Count Hind roared. “My lady, what is the meaning of this!”
“We haven’t even shared the kiss of vows, Count. Why call me your lady?”
“We agreed to marry, so we are about to become husband and wife!”
“Regrettably, I gave the kiss of vows to the priest. The marriage was never solemnized.”
Hind’s face flushed deep red with agitation. It would be wonderful if he just clutched the back of his neck and collapsed right then and there.
“How dare a young wench humiliate me like this!”
He raised his hand high.
Lurutie could have easily dodged it if she wanted to, but she chose to endure it. Striking his bride in front of countless spectators would make breaking off the engagement effortless. How hard could an old man’s slap hurt, anyway? She would rather take one hit and survive.
“Agh!”
Instead of a crisp slap against her cheek, the old man shrieked in pain all by himself.
A Holy Knight stationed near the altar had intercepted Hind’s palm with his gauntlet. Hind’s hand, having struck the solid armor, instantly swelled up bright red and puffy.
“Count Hind, step back.”
That wasn’t the end of it. The Holy Knights stationed throughout the temple rushed forward and assembled in front of Lurutie. At the majestic sight of the knights clad in silver armor, sighs and prayers burst forth from every corner of the room. They surrounded Lurutie as if to protect her.
Crushed by the overwhelming pressure of the knights, Count Hind staggered back and bellowed, “What is the meaning of this insolence!”
“We were about to ask you the same thing.”
The Holy Knight standing at the very front looked down arrogantly at the much shorter Count.
“I cannot leave a woman who insulted me alone. Move aside!”
“And what do you intend to do?”
“Beat her into submission, of course!”
“Count, are you looking to be dragged down to the Grand Temple’s dungeon for blasphemy?”
Isn’t the one committing blasphemy Lurutie, who stole a priest’s kiss?
She was grateful they blocked Hind for her, but she couldn’t understand a word they were saying. Behind Lurutie, who stood frozen in utter bewilderment, one of the Holy Knights approached the stolen-kiss priest and made a grand fuss.
“Commander, congratulations on your marriage!”
…Excuse me?
Don’t tell me he’s the Commander of the Holy Knights?
