~Chapter 31~
“I planned to leave right after Rose became the Saintess.”
Things had been going smoothly, so Floria had thought of making her the Saintess earlier than in the original story.
If it was proven that Rose truly had the immense holy power—something that appeared only once in centuries—her life would be set.
But…
“No, I can’t.”
Even if Rose became Saintess early, what good was that? The temple looked pure on the outside, but inside it was rotten to the core.
High Priests and regular priests weren’t much different. Rose had even said she saw that their holy power was less than Floria’s.
If they revealed too soon that Rose was the real Saintess, who knew what this corrupted temple might do to her.
“The High Priest has to be removed.”
The whole High Priest system had to be overturned.
In the original story, the High Priest had stepped down by the end, which at least prevented the worst.
But… maybe not.
The original story was written from Rose’s point of view. It focused on her healing dying knights who returned from demon hunts.
She was 16 when she became Saintess, and the story ended when she turned 20 and got engaged to Aster.
There had been no episodes about temple corruption.
So while Rose was adored as Saintess on the surface, who knew how much the High Priest and the upper priests had been stealing from donations behind the scenes.
“Then I’ll fix it before Rose becomes Saintess.”
There must be proof of the High Priest’s corruption.
Caspar’s reports weren’t solid evidence, but even the most reliable information was useless without proof.
Floria made up her mind. She would trust Caspar. Or maybe—she wanted to trust him.
It was because of the confident look in his eyes when he said he would expose the corruption of the temple.
And besides, he was the only one she could rely on right now.
“I’d better memorize this.”
With trembling hands, Floria flipped quickly through the report. Then she froze, struck by a strange thought.
“Wait, wasn’t Caspar close with the High Priest?”
He came and went from the temple freely. Sometimes he even prayed alone in the annex in the early mornings.
And every time Floria went out with him, the High Priest had generously given her time off and even arranged for her to stay in a bigger room.
That was far too much just to curry favor with Caspar.
“Could the two of them actually be plotting something together…?”
No—no.
Floria tapped both her cheeks to focus. After all, the report she was holding listed corruption centered on the High Priest.
“Pull yourself together.”
There was no time to waste on pointless doubts.
This was a report Caspar had personally sent her. All she needed to do now was study and memorize it.
“…But this feels like I’m working overtime.”
Her eyes watered as she turned the pages quietly. Tomorrow she would have to go back to dawn prayers and confessions at the temple as usual.
***
Caspar and Aster hadn’t been lying when they left the annex garden saying they had evening business.
The carriage carrying them headed straight for the Imperial Palace.
The flashy ornaments they had worn on their uniforms earlier had been for this very reason—they were going to meet the Emperor.
The Emperor loved it when his children came dressed as splendidly as possible. To him, that was both respect and virtue.
Caspar had dressed up even more, thinking of both the palace visit and the dinner with Floria earlier.
He remembered Floria’s frown when she saw him so decorated, and he chuckled to himself.
But as soon as the palace came into view through the window, his smile disappeared.
His face became cold and expressionless, empty of any emotion.
Before long, the two men stood before the Emperor’s chambers.
“Your Majesty, His Highness the Prince and Duke Ponhas are here.”
“Let them in.”
Boom—
The attendants opened the heavy doors and bowed deeply. As soon as Caspar and Aster stepped inside, the doors closed again behind them.
Silence filled the room.
The Emperor sat on a jewel-covered throne facing the door, watching his sons enter.
His eyes landed first on Caspar.
“Tsk.”
The click of his tongue echoed clearly in the still room.
“No matter how much I want to favor you, I just can’t.”
He even muttered that Caspar was creepy, impossible to read.
Then the corner of his mouth lifted.
Perhaps because he liked the sight of Aster standing a step ahead, hands politely folded, while Caspar remained behind.
Caspar knew very well that the Emperor’s moods dictated how he was treated—sometimes he ordered Caspar to call him “father,” other times to behave like a slave.
Since Aster was present today, acting as the obedient “slave” was the correct choice.
The Emperor tapped the armrest with his fingers, looking pleased. His eyes then moved to Aster.
“Aster, come here.”
His voice softened, his face relaxed. He even opened his arms, as if asking the 13-year-old to hug him.
“…Father, I heard you called for me.”
But Aster didn’t move.
Normally, he would’ve rushed into his father’s arms with a smile. Instead, his voice trembled slightly, and his clenched fists shook.
Ah… he noticed something.
Caspar, watching Aster’s stiff back, realized the boy had finally caught on.
At first, Aster had been childish—grumbling, “Why is that crazy duke celebrating my birthday?”
But as time passed, he had opened up, even sending letters. Caspar thought it was because of Floria and the girl with her.
But now, Aster seemed troubled by the way his father treated Caspar like dirt. He couldn’t understand it.
Interesting.
The prince had more heart than expected. Caspar raised an eyebrow.
The Emperor, however, was taken aback.
He had expected Aster to leap into his arms, but instead he froze mid-gesture.
“Aster, what’s wrong? Did something happen? Or did that man—did he do something to you…?”
“That’s not it. It’s because you show favoritism against Duke Ponhas. As the ruler of the Empire, it doesn’t look good, Father.”
“…”
The Emperor was so shocked he covered his open mouth with his hand. His pupils shook violently.
Not only had Aster cut him off, but he’d said it so directly.
Caspar lowered his head slightly, silently laughing at the scene.
So polite and proper in front of Floria and the girl—yet here, in front of the Emperor, he showed this side. Fascinating.
“…I’m sorry, Aster. I shouldn’t have shown you such a shameful sight.”
The Emperor, flustered, actually apologized.
“Father, I’m tired. May I leave now?”
“Y-yes. You said you’d been to the temple, didn’t you? If you’re tired, go rest. You’ve done well.”
“Yes. I’ll go.”
This was a side of Aster he never showed in front of Rose—like a sulky child, pouting angrily.
As he passed Caspar, Caspar tilted his head and whispered:
“May you have a good night.”
Aster paused, then gave him a faint smile.
“Thank you, Duke.”
Then he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
Boom—!
The silence in the Emperor’s room grew even heavier.
His brows furrowed in frustration as he stared desperately at the door his son had just left through, unable to bring himself to call him back.
Then suddenly, his expression hardened.
It was a completely different face from the man who had been nervously apologizing moments earlier.
