Chapter 42
The saintess was surrounded by a cluster of attendants dressed in white.
If it were me, I wouldn’t even be able to see ahead with all those attendants around, so I had no idea how the saintess managed to recognize us.
“Are you on your way to have an audience with His Majesty?”
The saintess stepped forward, parting the crowd of her attendants, and stared at us as she spoke.
We hadn’t exactly parted on good terms at the illegal auction, so for her to actively speak to us like this was unexpected.
Considering the saintess’s personality… she had either already twisted that event in her favor and made peace with it in her mind, or she was just being conscious of other people around her.
Carlos and I exchanged a brief glance.
Carlos subtly shook his head, signaling that he would handle this.
I gave a small nod in response, meaning go ahead.
“Yes. We were just on our way to have an audience with His Majesty.”
With my approval, Carlos stepped forward and answered the saintess in a calm tone.
The saintess frowned slightly, seemingly displeased that Carlos and I had exchanged silent signals in her presence.
“Perfect, then.”
That was an unexpected response.
Perfect? What was?
Seeing the puzzled look on my face, the saintess smirked smugly.
“I’m on my way to the main palace as well. May I ask you to escort me?”
Though she phrased it as a request, her tone made it clear she fully expected Carlos to escort her.
And realistically, if the saintess asked for an escort, we weren’t exactly in a position to refuse.
After all, she was the most revered figure in the Empire.
So now we were stuck escorting the saintess to the palace?
‘How bothersome.’
Just as I sighed at the thought—
“I’m sorry, Saintess, but we’re on our way for an urgent audience regarding the second subjugation. We’re afraid we can’t escort you.”
Whoa, Carlos! That was brutally direct.
I looked at him in awe, and he gestured for me to look ahead instead.
I turned my head just in time to see the saintess’s face flush bright red.
“Then perhaps another time.”
Carlos finished it off by politely yet firmly declining.
“We’ll be on our way, then.”
Just as we turned to leave—
“You’ll regret this.”
The saintess muttered ominously.
Judging by the surprised faces of her attendants, they clearly didn’t know her true nature.
Some of them even looked at us with blame and disapproval.
Lately, everyone with a bad temper keeps saying ‘You’ll regret it.’ So cliché.
“That’s unfortunate to hear. I meant what I said with goodwill.”
Carlos replied without batting an eye.
The saintess’s face turned an even deeper shade of red.
Carlos, apparently satisfied, bowed slightly and pulled me away from the scene.
“Do you think we’ll be okay?”
“Why wouldn’t we be?” Carlos responded dryly when I asked about the saintess.
“You didn’t seem concerned when Viscount Mile said we’d regret it the other day, but now you’re worried about the saintess?”
Ah, right—Ulrich. That guy.
“That’s because I can handle him… but…”
“I can handle the saintess too.”
Carlos cut in.
“I won’t let anything harm you, Captain.”
“What? That’s not what I was worried about.”
Feeling a bit hurt by the clear boundary he was drawing, I replied quickly.
Carlos suddenly stopped walking and looked at me.
“Then what were you worried about? For example?”
“Well…”
I hesitated.
But it felt like something that needed to be addressed.
“I was worried about your relationship with the saintess.”
“My relationship with the saintess?” Carlos raised an eyebrow.
“Why would you worry about that?”
“Because…”
Again, I faltered.
At the illegal auction, I hadn’t thought much of their poor dynamic. But the more I thought about it back home, the more concerning it seemed.
‘No matter how bad their relationship is, the two of them have to imprint to save the world.’
That’s what it came down to.
Just like the shaman from the Latham Valley—whatever his name was—had said: unless the saintess gave her blessing by imprinting with someone of royal blood, the shamans would never truly fall.
And all the other royals were either weak in battle or traitors like the Crown Prince.
So Carlos and the saintess had to imprint, but she was two-faced and he showed zero interest in her. How was this supposed to work?
“Captain?” Carlos urged me again.
“I just thought… if you weren’t on good terms with such a high-ranking figure, your time in the palace might be difficult.”
I couldn’t exactly say I was rooting for his love line with the saintess, so I came up with a suitable excuse.
Carlos gave me a look like ‘You really worry about everything, don’t you?’
“As I said, I can handle it.”
“Unless you think I’m some fool who gets into trouble I can’t handle?”
“No! Of course not.”
I shook my head frantically.
“I’ve said it before—you’re an excellent knight. Why would I think that?”
The moment I said “excellent knight,” Carlos turned his head sharply.
His ears were red.
Was Carlos the type to get flustered by compliments?
“…Let’s stop talking nonsense and head to the audience chamber.”
“Let’s. We’ll be late at this rate.”
I patted his shoulder lightly and we continued walking.
Everyone had already arrived at the audience chamber, except the Emperor.
“There you are, Elia.”
As Carlos and I found our seats, a familiar voice called out.
I turned around to see Michael, wearing a white ceremonial uniform.
Whoa, dazzling.
Michael was already incredibly handsome, but in that uniform? He practically blinded everyone.
Others were squinting at him too.
“Lord Michael.”
I bowed my head in greeting.
He accepted it and then turned his gaze to Carlos.
“It’s been a while, Sir Ivach.”
“It has, Commander of the First Division.”
Carlos and Michael exchanged stiff greetings.
Not long ago, Carlos had been coming and going from the Elvington estate. They weren’t strangers, so why so awkward?
As I tilted my head, Michael extended a hand to Carlos.
“I hear you’ve had a hard time because of my sister.”
“Not at all.”
Carlos took his hand respectfully.
“Serving Captain Elia is an honor and a joy.”
At that, Michael’s brow furrowed slightly.
“So the rumors were true?”
Rumors?
I waited, hoping Michael would explain, but he didn’t say another word and just returned to his seat.
“What rumors?”
I whispered to Carlos, unable to resist.
“Nothing significant.”
He gave me a vague look.
No way. I couldn’t stand not knowing.
I stared him down until he finally sighed in defeat.
“After Viscount Ulrich came by a few days ago… some rumors started spreading.”
“What rumors?”
“That you and I…”
Just as the words were about to come out—
“His Majesty the Emperor and His Highness the Crown Prince are entering!”
A page shouted from the door.
“We’ll discuss this later.”
Carlos stood up quickly, clearly relieved.
Hey! Carlos!
I burned with curiosity, but the Emperor had arrived. We couldn’t exactly keep chatting.
The audience chamber doors opened, and the Emperor stepped in.
He looked the same as he had before the first subjugation—nothing of interest there.
Instead, I focused on the person right behind him.
The Crown Prince.
The final boss of this story.
In the original work, The Shining Golden Sword, the good and evil dynamic was extremely simple.
It was a full-on cliché. The classic ‘brother rivalry’ trope.
In stories like this, if the older brother is the protagonist, the younger brother is the villain—and vice versa.
The Golden Sword was no exception.
The Crown Prince, Carlos’s half-brother, was the main villain.
