Episode 20
Was that too sudden?
The saint’s eyes widened like those of a startled deer.
She seemed genuinely surprised as she stammered an odd question.
“R-right now?”
Of course it was now, woman.
He didn’t know what part of that was funny, but he found himself laughing.
When Alesto let out a soft, amused chuckle, Asha’s face turned red.
Good heavens.
A devastatingly handsome man was gazing straight at her, his eyes curved gently as he smiled—what a sight that was.
Was it just her imagination, or did she feel enchanted?
That face should be illegal.
Still smiling, Alesto rubbed his brow a little, as if shy, then asked again,
“Am I the only one who wants to hold hands?”
Thump.
No, thump-thump was too mild a word.
Asha’s heart was pounding hard in her chest.
“Don’t you want to, Miss Asha?”
A pleasant tremor tickled her heart.
How was she supposed to answer that?
She did want to hold his hand—but it felt like she had missed her timing to respond.
As her eyes darted about nervously, Asha finally lifted her head slightly—only to meet Alesto’s gaze head-on.
Then, the man sitting across from her suddenly shifted—moving over beside her in one swift motion.
In an instant, he was close.
The man’s scent grew stronger.
She held her breath.
And then—he extended his left hand toward her.
“Your hand, please.”
His low voice, like water bubbling up from underground, was calm and polite.
Asha slowly lifted her right hand and placed it over his large palm.
Her hand trembled a little, perhaps from nerves—but he didn’t seem to mind.
The moment their hands touched, he wove his fingers between hers.
That was all. He merely held her hand.
And yet, the gentle pressure pinned her in place, making it impossible to move.
She raised her free hand to her flushed cheek, trying to cool it—but it was no use.
Neither spoke until they arrived at Blossom Palace, but—surprisingly—
that awkward, tense silence… felt rather nice.
Asha didn’t realize it, but she was the most talked-about woman at the ball that night.
She had drawn attention the moment she entered, escorted by the towering figure of Jerold Burns—but being seen enjoying herself so affectionately with the Crown Prince? That sealed it.
When the Crown Prince appeared in the Astrow Hall and spent the evening in close company with her, a rumor spread among the nobles like wildfire.
A rumor that Lady Asha of the Herman family was staying at Blossom Palace—in the same quarters as the Crown Prince’s most cherished younger sister.
And there was only one circumstance under which news from Blossom Palace ever spread like that—
—when the Crown Prince himself wanted it to.
In other words, it was as if Alesto S. Burns, the Crown Prince, had publicly declared Lady Asha to be his.
Hearing that rumor left Cedric feeling restless. Even though he already knew about the two of them, it still stung.
As soon as he climbed into the carriage bound for his townhouse, he tugged loose his neckerchief.
While Cedric sat there, exhausted, his steward beside him was practically glowing.
“What a productive day, my lord! I’ll admit, when you said you wanted to develop maritime trade, I wondered how you’d pull it off—but the answer was right here in the capital!”
While Cedric shrugged off his jacket, loosened a few buttons on his shirt, and opened the window for some cold air, the steward’s chatter didn’t stop.
“Especially meeting Count Curtis—that was a stroke of luck! I’ll summarize today’s discussions and submit a report tomorrow. Ah! Did you happen to see Lady Cecilia of the Eart family earlier? She looked like a goddess reborn! I’ve never seen such a beautiful woman in my life. Perhaps you might visit the Eart estate tomorrow?”
During the ball season, unmarried men of marriageable age could visit a young lady’s house unannounced—it was an accepted custom.
But Cedric didn’t even pretend to be interested. Resting his head on his arm, which was propped against the window frame, he closed his eyes.
“That’s enough.”
The steward, caught off guard by the curt response, drew in a quiet breath. After a moment, he sighed softly at his master’s back—then quickly put on a cheerful tone again.
“You must be tired, my lord. Rest well tonight, and we’ll talk business tomorrow. I’ll have some flowers prepared too! Work is important, yes, but the reason we came to the capital in the first place was to find you a bride, after all!”
The longer the steward talked, the more Cedric loathed himself.
He had come to the capital to look for a bride—
and yet his eyes kept chasing after Lady Asha, a woman already bound to another man.
He had never felt so pathetic in his life.
Of the maids assigned to help Asha prepare for the ball, three had stayed on permanently in the Almond Palace.
As a low-ranking “Gray Owl,” Ruby didn’t know the true identities of the other maids, but she suspected they were also members of the Owl network.
Either way, with the new hires around, Ruby was naturally relieved of her chores and promoted to the position of chambermaid overseeing the other three.
One morning, she carried in a large armful of letters and packages.
Just as expected—Asha had received dozens of invitations.
Excited, Ruby sat down beside her mistress and began reading out the names one by one.
“…Countess Pamela, Viscountess Kilstedt, Lady Hassler… Goodness, practically every noble in the capital has sent an invitation to you, my lady!”
Asha, however, looked utterly uninterested.
Lounging lazily on the sofa in the parlor, she stared blankly out the window, her mind still full of thoughts about the priest she had seen at the ball.
Was it because everything had happened so suddenly?
At the time, she hadn’t thought much of it—it had all felt oddly natural—but now, recalling that monochrome, hazy impression and how the priest had vanished in the blink of an eye, she realized how unnatural it really was.
Of course, it was possible she had felt that strange sense because she had actually come from another world.
And as for the priest—perhaps he hadn’t vanished at all. She had turned away when Alesto appeared, hadn’t she?
The ballroom was crowded, and his plain white robes wouldn’t have stood out. Maybe she had just lost sight of him.
But then what about that voice in her head—that strange, familiar “It’s good to see you again”?
Maybe she’d imagined it. The atmosphere had been so mysterious, and she’d had a bit to drink.
Still… the thought nagged at her.
Could he have been… a god?
It sounded absurd, but then again—not impossible.
After all, this world had saints, temples, and divine powers. And she herself had come here from another world.
So who was to say gods didn’t exist, too?
That led to another question—should she go to the temple to find out? Or pretend nothing happened and go on with her life?
She couldn’t leave the palace just yet, but suppose she could choose one of the two—
If she went to the temple and found out the priest was really a god, then what?
Would a god have shown up just to see her face? Of course not.
In stories, gods always had some ridiculous request—something like “You were brought here for a reason. Save this world,” and so on.
Just thinking about it made her tired.
But if she pretended not to notice and simply lived on?
It might bother me a little… but that’s all.
Asha decided to take the easy route.
If he really was a god, he’d find her again eventually.
No need to go looking for trouble herself.
Avoid it for as long as possible—that was her plan.
“Oh? There’s also an invitation from the temple,” Ruby said.
At those unwelcome words, Asha shot up from the sofa and immediately held out her hand.
“Give it here.”
Without any suspicion, Ruby handed her the letter from the temple. Asha marched straight to the fireplace and tossed it in.
“M-my lady?” Ruby stammered in confusion behind her, but Asha ignored her.
As the flames consumed the invitation, she said calmly,
“From now on, if anything comes from the temple, don’t even tell me. Just throw it away.”
Because she could already tell—it was going to be a huge headache.
