Chapter 87
Dylan had a gentle personality, but he knew how to set aside his emotions for ideal judgment when necessary. At a solemn event like a joint conference, he should not have reacted strongly when the former saint Sonnet appeared.
Even if it was a situation where his first love—whom he had believed dead—suddenly appeared, he had to conceal any signs of agitation in front of the high priest and the assembled high-ranking nobles. Yet, Dylan was more swept up in emotion than ever. His green eyes trembled helplessly.
“Sonnet, I will become a great emperor. So, on the day I ascend, I want you by my side.”
Memories of Sonnet, vivid as if they had happened yesterday, surged through him even after more than ten years. The feelings of love he had buried because they were too precious swelled within him. Dylan found himself staring at Sonnet, not even realizing he had risen abruptly from his seat.
It was as if only her time had stood still. Sonnet had changed little from the last time he had seen her. Her translucent water-colored hair rippled as if it might flow like waves, and though petite, her long, graceful posture retained the manners of a saintess, giving her an air of dignity despite having left her post long ago. What troubled him most were her eyes—they were covered by a cloth.
“Your Majesty.”
“…….”
“Your Majesty…!”
If Empress Cattleya hadn’t whispered urgently, Dylan might have descended the dais and approached Sonnet to ask what had happened to her eyes. He came to his senses just in time and glanced back at Cattleya. Her face was contorted. Whether it was a warning to maintain his imperial dignity or for another reason, he could not tell.
Dylan clenched his fists tightly and sat back down. Yet, a deep shadow lay across his face as he continued to watch Sonnet.
“…Duke Balian, how did you bring Sonnet here?”
“…….”
“After being expelled from the temple, Sonnet disappeared. Even if one tried, she could not be found. So how did you…!”
As Dylan’s voice rose, Cattleya narrowed her eyes sharply to restrain him, but Silvert stepped forward first and stopped Dylan’s words.
“Your Majesty, this is the conference hall where the joint meeting is held. I judge that it is proper to suppress personal emotions here.”
Had it been the usual Cattleya, she might have criticized someone interrupting the emperor. But Dylan was visibly unable to act rationally. Fortunately, he accepted Silvert’s advice. His lips moved slightly before he finally looked away from Sonnet. While Dylan collected himself, Silvert approached Sonnet and clasped her hands firmly.
“Welcome, child. You’ve come a long way, thank you.”
“I hope you have been well, High Priest. I should have sent a letter to ask after you, but circumstances did not allow it.”
“No, I understand. I am simply glad that you returned safely.”
Silvert’s gaze on Sonnet was filled with concern. She seemed thinner than the last time he saw her, which made him uneasy. But he was thankful that the saint, expelled from the temple, had survived. Luckily, aside from her eyes, there was no other injury or illness apparent. Silvert gently patted Sonnet’s shoulder and subtly signaled Esch.
“Thank you for hiding Sonnet.”
Esch nodded silently in response. The fact that the high priest had given the expelled saint a new identity and hidden her in the North was a secret known only to Silvert, Esch, and Mark, who had accompanied Sonnet. No one else, not even the likes of Duke Klagen or Marquis Blanche, knew.
The Klagen members began quietly speculating about the fact that Sonnet had appeared in the hall with Duke Balian.
“So, Sonnet being with Duke Balian means she must have been in the North?”
“That explains why she could not be found before.”
“The North is such a harsh environment that even the Balian family’s presence would keep dark mages at bay. It was a wise choice.”
Though Sonnet had been expelled, her achievements as a saintess were countless, and she had demonstrated sincere faith. Yet her participation in a profane ritual under the control of a dark mage was unforgivable, which is why she had been exiled with no one to care for her.
Still, Klagen had judged that even a saintess who had sinned involuntarily should not meet such an end. They wanted to provide her with shelter away from the eyes of the royal family, but they could not locate her.
Despite extensive searches, they could not find even a single strand of hair and feared she had either been killed by dark mages or died quietly somewhere. So learning she had been in the North brought relief to the Klagen.
At this point, Duke Linda clicked her tongue, glancing at Cattleya. Unlike the emperor, who maintained friendly relations, the empress looked upon the temple with disfavor, and Duke Linda, head of Klagen, felt the same.
“The empress does not look pleased. Understandably so.”
Duke Linda smirked, running his hand along his jaw.
“Had things not happened back then, Sonnet would have become the empress.”
Sonnet had been the saintess and the prospective crown princess. Though “prospective” was nominal, in reality, her position was almost guaranteed. Yet under the dark mage’s manipulation, she lost both the crown princess title and her saintess post. Cattleya, another candidate for the crown princess, naturally assumed the position once Sonnet was exiled.
There was also a hidden anecdote: Cattleya had liked Dylan, the crown prince at the time, but he loved Sonnet. Watching Dylan struggle for a while even after Sonnet’s exile must have enraged her. So Sonnet’s appearance was unwelcome to Cattleya, and seeing Dylan so shaken only worsened matters.
While Duke Linda enjoyed the empress’s sharp reaction, Count Rosanac, who had been observing Duke Balian closely, quietly spoke.
“What does the prophecy mean?”
Count Rosanac narrowed his eyes.
“Did you not hear what Duke Balian said? He mentioned the ‘prophecy’ of the monster’s appearance. And the one who delivered the prophecy is Sonnet herself.”
The Klagen, focused only on Sonnet’s appearance until now, widened their eyes. At that moment, Marquis Blanche leapt from his seat and approached the balcony railing.
“Could it be… that Sonnet became the Manifestor?”
“What?”
Count Rosanac responded in disbelief. Other Klagen members echoed the sentiment.
“A Manifestor? If Sonnet were one, she would have been brought to the temple somehow.”
“If she manifested after the exile, there was no way to know.”
Marquis Blanche’s gaze fell on Silvert.
So Silvert already knew, he realized immediately, as an old friend would.
Sonnet didn’t go to the North on her own; Silvert hid her there. Of course, he wouldn’t have abandoned her, and since she didn’t act voluntarily, he must have been worried. So bringing Sonnet here was a collaboration between Silvert and Duke Balian.
Silvert’s eyes met Marquis Blanche’s, and the latter quietly chuckled at his knowing smile.
As murmurs grew louder and the atmosphere became chaotic, a strong, resonant voice, echoing like in a cave, suddenly filled the conference hall.
“May I begin my testimony?”
It was Sonnet. All eyes turned to her as she stepped forward once Silvert returned to his seat, looking up at Dylan. Even with her eyes covered by a white cloth, her gaze was fixed precisely on him.
“…Very well, proceed,” he said, heart pounding as if their eyes met.
“As everyone knows, I relinquished my position as saintess under disgrace. Even if I had acted under brainwashing, my body was tainted by dark magic, so I willingly left the temple. While seeking a safe place to stay, I was attacked.”
The audience held their breath. This was what they had feared. Since the saintess was expelled from the temple, it was only natural she became a target for dark mages. Dylan gripped the chair’s armrest with trembling hands.
“I do not know who did it, but they intended to kill me. Fortunately, the assassination failed, but…”
Sonnet slowly removed the cloth covering her eyes. The eyes that had once shone like the sun in her zeal to protect the empire from dark mages were now dull and lifeless, marred by long scars slashing across them.
“My eyes were almost completely destroyed.”
“!”
Some shut their eyes tightly; others could not hold back gasps. Marquis Blanche shook his head in dismay at the tragic situation she had endured alone. Dylan tried desperately to compose himself, but seeing the golden eyes he had loved so much lifeless and darkened twisted his expression in agony.
Recalling the day of the attack, Sonnet staggered slightly. Esch silently supported her.
“…Yet, the Goddess Lebelain, taking pity on me manipulated by dark mages, granted me a gift—the ability of ‘prophecy.’”
Dylan, distracted by her scars, furrowed his brows. Silvert added an explanation.
“Your Majesty, the prophecy Sonnet mentions refers to the manifestation of her ability.”
“So, Sonnet is a Manifestor? She has become one of the few, like the five before?”
Sonnet nodded.
“Yes, by the grace of Goddess Lebelain, I became a Manifestor. Though my eyes were damaged, I wandered with the divine gift of prophecy, eventually reaching the North, where Duke Balian helped me stay in Nostrie.”
“!”
“One day, while predicting small incidents to survive, I saw a giant black serpent monster attack people. Soon after, I saw dozens of monsters assault a carriage. Initially, fearing a false alarm, I did not report it immediately, but later, realizing it was serious, I informed Duke Balian so he could respond appropriately to the monster attack.”
“Sonnet’s prophetic ability is remarkable. Her predictions regarding minor incidents and accidents were precise in time and location, and even though her prophecy about the monsters was unclear in content, it greatly aided our response.”
Esch acknowledged Sonnet’s words and signaled Silvert.
“Your Majesty, may I speak?”
“Yes, go ahead.”
Receiving Esch’s signal, Silvert slowly turned to Dylan.
“I request Sonnet’s reinstatement.”
