Chapter 22
The day the minstrel arrived happened, coincidentally, to be the day Ariadne had planned to leave the palace. Until the day before, Ian had come to see her countless times, but she had not once agreed to meet him.
Ian understood. From his perspective, he had been unilaterally rejected. But once a heart was set, it could not be easily changed.
Yet what surprised her the most was that the count had come to see her.
[Ariadne. Shouldn’t you look after the Saint? I will overlook your mistake.]
She was speechless. It seemed he had come, not for any other reason, but because he feared she might start talking about Ashley’s powers. How ridiculous.
Even when she should have been begging desperately, the count still held his head high.
“What are you thinking about?”
Diego, who had come to help her escape, asked in a gentle voice.
“Oh, nothing.”
“Feeling alright?”
“Yes. Why would I feel bad?”
Ariadne answered curtly. After the commotion with Ashley, her demeanor had grown noticeably colder.
Diego hesitated slightly before speaking.
“I heard a rumor that you abandoned Ian.”
“Haha. Is that so?”
Ariadne let out a brief, dry laugh, and Diego frowned.
What a foolish man. He couldn’t recognize Ariadne’s true worth.
“How amusing,” she said, stopping her forced laughter and quickly preparing to leave. Diego, standing by the door with his arms folded, watched her with mixed feelings.
He desperately wanted to accompany her, but Ariadne had resolved to go alone. So he tried to stall her, speaking this time with a trivial excuse.
“The emperor asked about you.”
“The emperor?”
“Yes.”
“Really? He usually only asks about Ashley.”
Diego’s eyes darted uneasily. That was true—Ariadne had never drawn the emperor’s attention. Though she was the Saint’s sister, the emperor considered her unremarkable, except for her appearance. She had remained quiet and unnoticed in high society, known only as Ashley’s caretaker.
“It seems Prince Canin mentioned you again.”
“Oh, him…”
Ariadne smiled faintly, recalling the way he had changed his words in front of her, but she didn’t particularly like the emperor constantly hearing about her. She didn’t want the emperor stopping her from leaving—she would rather refuse the trouble.
“Why keep talking about me when I’m not even the Saint?”
“Exactly,” Diego said.
He too disliked that Canin showed interest in Ariadne.
The reason the emperor asked about her was simple. All of it was because Canin Rodram constantly wanted her. The emperor had long coveted the technological prowess of the Northern Empire, Iliad.
Their technology was unmatched across the continent—and even across the sea, no island nation could compare. Airships flew through the skies, and trains ran through cities like giant carriages—so advanced that people often didn’t believe it until they saw it.
It was natural, then, that the emperor desired this technology. And since Canin, though the third prince of the Northern Empire, was considered a strong candidate for the next emperor, it was advantageous to maintain good relations with him.
Thus, the emperor had become interested in Ariadne.
Diego, thinking of Canin, felt uneasy and quickly changed the topic.
“The carriage is ready, Ari.”
“Ah, thank you.”
“Are you really determined to leave alone?”
“Yes. I want to live somewhere where no one knows me.”
After all, the emperor judged her only for her usefulness. She had no intention of becoming someone else’s tool.
“You really are stubborn. You weren’t always like this, were you?”
“I’ve learned that trying to live pleasantly doesn’t work out.”
“I see…”
He looked disappointed, and Ariadne noticed but pretended not to. Diego tried again.
“Are you really skipping the banquet?”
“The minstrel has arrived, hasn’t he?”
“Yes. His Majesty is holding quite a grand event.”
“…….”
Currently, the biggest topic at the palace was the arrival of the minstrel. A great minstrel who could read the flow of powers—everyone was naturally curious.
His timing was perfect. The emperor also wanted to verify the rumors about the Saint.
The palace was abuzz.
Although the rumors about the Saint’s powers were kept secret to protect her reputation, word inevitably spread outside the palace. Interest in the Saint was intense.
And since Ashley had earned the nickname “the Saint,” her own name had rarely been spoken so lightly.
“It’s a shame to miss such an interesting sight,” Ariadne mused with a small laugh.
‘Ashley must have staged the suicide attempt knowing my powers are fading. That’s why she added the masquerade and all that. There’s more to this, I’m sure.’
Yet the truth would soon be revealed anyway. Perhaps the Saint’s downfall had already been set in motion. Ariadne, however, didn’t want her own healing powers discovered there.
“I still don’t really want to go there.”
“Good. Smart decision.”
Diego silently agreed. He worried that, with her already tarnished reputation, she would only face more unpleasantness among the nobles gathered there.
Bad rumors.
He knew from experience: once someone was marked by society, no matter what they did, it only worsened.
He had lived freely, yet that freedom had been twisted into the image of someone irresponsible. Now, everything he did was seen in a negative light. He despised it.
This social circle, which created ideals and labeled those who didn’t fit as abnormal, seemed grotesque to him.
“I’ll be leaving now.”
“Already?”
Diego looked regretful. They had said everything they needed to say, and there was no excuse to stop her.
“Shouldn’t Your Highness attend the banquet?”
“The banquet? That doesn’t really concern me.”
“Well, Your Highness doesn’t like such places anyway.”
Ariadne smiled faintly.
“See? You know me well.”
“That’s something the entire empire knows.”
Ariadne laughed, and Diego smiled awkwardly.
“The banquet is in full swing. It’s the perfect time to leave unnoticed.”
“That’s true…”
During the banquet, when all eyes were on the Saint, no one would pay attention to Ariadne. The timing was perfect for a discreet exit. She smirked.
“Thank you for everything.”
She gave Diego her final farewell—the farewell she couldn’t give anyone else.
At that moment.
The banquet hall where the minstrel “Bachelier” had arrived was already crowded.
The appearance of the minstrel naturally piqued everyone’s curiosity.
Amid the commotion, a man appeared.
He was with the emperor, holding a lyre in one hand, immediately marking him as the minstrel.
“Oh!”
“Wow. That’s him.”
“How did His Majesty find a minstrel who had hidden away so completely?”
“I heard they didn’t disappear but lived in a remote mountain village. And the emperor, being fond of hunting, happened to meet him there.”
“Ah, that explains it.”
People followed the emperor’s lead, staring at Bachelier with wonder.
He had the appearance of a mythical being—almost like an elf.
His pale skin was nearly translucent compared to even Northern Empire citizens, his silver hair had a faint red tint, and his violet eyes gave him an otherworldly presence.
His beauty was striking enough to seem feminine, but his tall frame and broad shoulders made it clear he was a man.
“Your gracious welcome overwhelms me. I am grateful.”
Bachelier was embarrassed but delighted by the emperor’s hospitality.
As he appeared, the crowd naturally began waiting for the Saint to show herself.
