Chapter 91
A saint who is not under the protection of a temple becomes a target for dark wizards. But why did Dylan assume the enemies were only them? With trembling hands, he picked up the pendant. The bronze pendant, cold as if he were picking up a rusted blade, bore a neatly engraved snake symbol—the emblem of the Tania Marquis family. And at the bottom, a small engraved name…
“Avril Tania.”
It was the name of Cattleya’s older brother, two years her senior.
Dylan gritted his teeth, clutching the bronze pendant tightly. The Marquis of Tania naturally believed that Cattleya would become Empress. Among the daughters of the dukes, there were no suitable women of marriageable age, so his highest-ranking daughter was the strongest candidate. Yet suddenly, the common-born saint Sonnet was being called the crown princess, which filled him with rage. The Marquis constantly brought up Sonnet’s background, checked her at every turn, and openly displayed hostility whenever they met.
But now, Sonnet had been exiled, and Cattleya had been crowned as the crown princess, just as the Marquis had hoped. Dylan had thought the problem was over. How foolish he had been to think so lightly.
He should have realized sooner that the Marquis of Tania was not someone who would simply let go of his hostility. Dylan’s green eyes trembled endlessly.
“What… do you want me to do?”
“….”
“Even now, should I make the Tania Marquis family pay for their sins? If you wish it, I will certainly do so.”
Dylan clutched the bronze pendant as if he wanted to crush it and began to roar fiercely. Although the incident had occurred years ago, and the Marquis of Tania was already dead, and the only evidence that he had ordered Avril to attack Sonnet was this bronze pendant, Dylan was determined. If Sonnet wished it, he would use every means at his disposal to punish the Tania Marquis family severely. Dylan looked at Sonnet with wet eyes.
All it would take was a single word. A firm declaration that she wanted justice, or even a small nod. No matter if it took years—or decades—the people who stole Sonnet’s brilliant, beautiful eyes would pay. Dylan waited desperately for her response. After a long pause, Sonnet parted her lips quietly.
“I hated His Majesty.”
“……!”
“I truly hated him.”
Dylan’s shoulders trembled. Yet despite saying she hated him, Sonnet reached out her arms and embraced him. Though she could not see his face or gestures, she slowly stroked the back of his head as if she knew everything.
Dylan embraced her tightly with trembling arms. The fresh, natural scent he had always associated with his first love remained the same, even after all these years. His green eyes filled with tears once more.
“I resented His Majesty more than those who stole my sight, those who never appeared despite my desperate waiting. I hated him for a very long time. But I have learned that His Majesty also had unavoidable circumstances, so I will now let go of my hatred.”
Her voice was calm but slightly trembling. Noticing it, Dylan held her even tighter.
“Sonnet, I’m sorry. Truly sorry.”
Dylan’s tears soaked Sonnet’s shoulders. Even her face, which had always suppressed emotions completely, showed small cracks as the corners of her eyes reddened.
“…Do you remember the Bosque Hunting Festival?”
The Bosque estate was surrounded by mountains and dense forests, perfect for a hunting festival. While young people enjoyed the hunt freely under the thick greenery, Sonnet, as a saint, was busy greeting the distinguished guests. She had no time to even sit for a moment. Dylan had taken her away, placing her on his horse, evading the chasing knights and riding swiftly through the forest.
Dylan had wanted to show her the white peonies he had found while hunting. The clustered white peonies were blooming beautifully. He thought she would surely like them and urged his horse forward, only to find broken stems and crushed petals—and a massive wild bear, at least three meters tall. The horse panicked and bolted, causing Sonnet to fall.
As Dylan dismounted to check on her, the horse ran off, leaving them stranded with the bear nearby. Yet Dylan did not panic; his swordsmanship was exceptional. Had he not been born into royalty, he could have become a Holy Knight and a hero. Even a large, ferocious bear was no match. The real problem came afterward.
Sonnet complained of pain, and her right leg began to swell badly. Realizing it was broken from the fall, Dylan carried her and ran. The distance, which took fifteen minutes by horse, was long to cover on foot, but Dylan, forgetting to breathe, ran without rest, worrying about her leg all the way to the festival grounds.
When the crown prince appeared holding a saint with a broken leg, the venue erupted. Dylan’s father, the former emperor, was furious that his son had taken the saint on a horse and returned with her injured. Watching Sonnet’s treatment, Dylan suddenly shed tears.
The crown prince, soon to be emperor, was crying—over a woman’s broken leg, in front of distinguished guests! The former emperor’s anger boiled over, but Dylan did not care. From that day, he gifted Sonnet the white peonies he had been unable to give her then.
Despite the incident, it remained a beautiful memory for both of them. Even after Sonnet’s exile, Dylan remembered her bright smile as he rode, and Sonnet seemed to do the same.
Slowly, Sonnet’s cold, distant attitude toward Dylan began to crumble.
“Your Majesty, you have always cried easily. You still do. The former emperor said that unchecked emotions could be poisonous, but I thought they could be advantageous. They could help you listen to your people and come closer to them. But perhaps too much time has passed.”
Sonnet brushed Dylan’s face once again. Her fingers touched him, and her lips quivered.
“Now, I can’t clearly remember your crying face, your smiling face, or anything at all.”
She had tried to act as if she no longer cared, but failed. Old resentment and hatred, mingled with love and longing she could not erase, overflowed. Her tears fell down her cheeks. Dylan hastily wiped them, but once they began, they would not stop.
“Even though the attackers colored my sight red, for some reason I thought of the white peonies you gave me. Though it was not their season, you found them somewhere and gave them to me, whispering always, ‘It’s only a bouquet for now, but when spring comes, I will give you a garden of peonies.’”
“Yes… I promised to fill the palace surroundings with white peonies… I…”
He had promised, but failed to keep it, just as he had failed to meet her during her exile.
“I know, even a single bronze pendant cannot punish the Tania Marquis family properly. Besides, the Marquis is already dead, and the daughter has become Empress, so it’s even harder to exact justice.”
Dylan’s eyes widened. He wanted to say, “No, I will make them pay,” but she was right. Too much time had passed, and evidence was scarce. He, a man who had once loved a woman deeply, was now emperor, responsible for political affairs and governance. The reality was painfully cruel. Even promising punishment, no matter how long it took, was impossible. He had already broken his promise to Sonnet twice.
“Still, thank you for saying you would punish the Tania Marquis family. That alone is enough for me.”
Sonnet whispered warmly, as if it were no problem. Her smile reminded him of herself and her in their youth, during the time of beautiful, radiant love.
“Dylan.”
Sonnet placed her hand on his shoulder and leaned forward.
“…My love.”
Their lips met softly and slowly parted. Sonnet whispered, voice full of longing:
“Even though I lost my sight and the world was dark, thinking of you made everything feel full of light.”
Though she had resented him for not coming to her, she had also loved him deeply.
“…Your Majesty.”
“!”
“Thank you for coming to me. But never come again. Except for official matters, let us never meet.”
She could not love him anymore. This was the end. Sonnet did not return to love Dylan, now a full emperor with an empress and child. She had come back to use her divine powers to help and to protect the empire from dark magic once again. Above all, she had conveyed all her feelings. Now she could finally… let go.
“Sonnet.”
“You are no longer the crown prince of that time.”
“Sonnet, please… don’t do this.”
“Let me go now. I will do the same. It won’t be easy, but I will sort out my feelings for you.”
Dylan slowly shook his head. This was love reunited, and he could not sever the bond. They could not return to a mere emperor-and-saint relationship. He could not let Sonnet drift beyond reach again. But Sonnet would not change her mind.
“Let it remain as a cherished memory to look back on from time to time.”
The kiss, stained with love, ended in farewell.
