Chapter 13
After that, we didn’t exchange a single word.
Well, I did grumble a lot inside.
Right. He just treated a suspicious, shady woman like me as his wife for a few days. Why would he be jealous?
I must’ve been deluding myself. The thought made me embarrassed and flustered.
Anyway, he said he was sleepy, but his eyes still looked sharp and clear.
Though I couldn’t tell what was going on in his head, he leaned on his hand and stared silently out the window.
That expression of his—like someone reaffirming a vow—seemed unusually resolute, and it made me uneasy.
Still, why should I bother guessing what he’s thinking?
I’m nothing more than a nominal wife, someone he would never love.
‘…Still, it stings a little.’
If he had just teased me like always, I wouldn’t be thinking this way.
So, while I sat there with a stiff face and sealed lips, the carriage finally stopped.
When the door opened, Blake stepped out first, then naturally extended his hand to me.
I sighed inwardly at the obvious gesture of escorting me, but I still took his cold hand.
And as soon as I stepped down, he withdrew it without a word.
Cold, really.
“Welcome, Your Highness the Crown Prince. And the lady accompanying you is…?”
Priests with white-streaked hair and long, dangling beards lit up as they addressed Blake.
From the way they looked at him, Blake already seemed like some holy ascetic, God’s own son.
“She is my consort.”
Blake, as always, replied with an indifferent face.
“Ah, so it is indeed Her Highness the Crown Princess. Welcome.”
Among the group of priests who greeted me, some gazes clearly revealed disapproval.
Well, I could guess why.
If he’s God’s son—or His representative—then he should have a worthy woman at his side.
And they firmly believed that woman was Saint Seira.
While the priests exchanged glances, Blake frowned slightly.
“You’re not planning to keep us standing in the street like this, are you? I don’t mind, but I’d like my consort to rest.”
“…Forgive me. This way, please.”
So now I’m someone to be cared for?
Who’s letting whom rest here?
He’s the one who hasn’t slept.
Though I grumbled inwardly, I obediently followed behind him.
The temple was full of priests, but still hushed, as expected.
Yet, as Blake passed, the hush broke; priests whispered as they looked at him.
“He really has resurrected…!”
“The prophecy was true. God arranged everything.”
“Could this even be real? What if this resurrection was faked somehow?”
Amid their varied reactions, Blake paid no mind. Soon, we entered a reception room inside the temple.
It seemed to be a place for noble visitors: clean, refined, with furniture that gleamed, crafted from expensive wood and marble.
Seated before us was clearly a priest of high rank.
“I hope this tea will suit Your Highnesses’ taste.”
Smiling kindly, he poured us tea—one cup for me, one for Blake.
But I stared at my cup for a moment, then quietly swapped it with Blake’s.
He watched me do it, expression unreadable, before glancing briefly into my eyes.
Of course, he didn’t comment.
Instead, he simply took the exchanged cup and sipped, tasting the tea.
Even from that brief touch, he seemed to discern its temperature, flavor, and fragrance all at once. I nodded slightly in satisfaction.
Like it or not, he’s my husband.
And I promised I’d protect him.
Feeling smug, I lifted my own cup. That’s when I sensed Blake looking at me strangely.
“…You two seem closer than the rumors suggest.”
“High Priest, weren’t you going to ask me something?”
High Priest? Ah, so he really was someone important.
I quickly shut my mouth.
The High Priest looked at us with the fondness of a grandfather gazing at a young couple.
But Blake, clearly uninterested in such remarks, cut him off bluntly.
The High Priest, however, seemed used to Blake’s coldness. He only chuckled.
Then, carefully setting down his cup, he asked,
“Your Highness, if you happened to recall the moment of resurrection… may I ask what transpired?”
“Well…”
Blake trailed off, then glanced at me.
Hey. Husband of mine.
Now’s not the time for jokes—answer properly.
With a fixed smile, I jabbed him with my finger where the High Priest couldn’t see.
Ouch, his muscles were like stone.
Still, he flinched, then steadied his voice.
“All I remember is opening the coffin on my own and rising. No one else was around.”
“I see… Then, I suppose you know nothing of Saint Seira’s whereabouts either.”
Blake shook his head.
His composed smile was as calm as ever, as though he knew nothing at all.
“I don’t know. Do you have any leads?”
“…No. She vanished without a word. It could have been abduction, or perhaps some evil trick at work.”
Where on earth did the story’s heroine, Seira, disappear to?
I narrowed my eyes at the High Priest.
He seemed to hesitate a little—as though he knew more than he admitted.
Yet Blake didn’t pay him the slightest attention.
Judging by his calm, it was almost as if… Blake already knew whatever the High Priest knew.
At any rate, Blake set down his half-finished tea, as though done with this talk.
Then, out of nowhere, he said,
“I’ve finished my business here. I’ve already proven myself.
Since I’m at the temple, I’d like to show my consort around.”
“…Pardon?”
“Ah, of course, Your Highness. Might I suggest starting with the gardens?”
The High Priest beamed, though I was baffled.
A temple tour, suddenly?
Blake tilted his head slightly, signaling me to rise.
“I’ll handle it. No need for you to come, High Priest.”
“Oh dear, how thoughtless of this old man. Please, take your time.”
Blake acted as if the temple were his own palace.
Ridiculous, but even more ridiculous was how the High Priest simply nodded along.
And why did he look at me like I was his granddaughter-in-law?
In the original story, he clearly wanted Blake to end up with Saint Seira…
Anyway, before I knew it, I was walking through the temple garden with Blake, just the two of us.
“Your Highness, I really can’t tell what you’re thinking.”
Sometimes he seems kind, then cold. Stern, yet suddenly gentle.
I noticed priests glancing our way from afar, but they couldn’t hear us.
The garden, filled with small white blossoms, was serene, ideal for prayer and reflection.
At its center stood a grand statue.
Blake gazed at it, then spoke abruptly.
“Me neither.”
“…What?”
“I can’t tell what you’re thinking either, master.”
“….”
Aren’t I… simple?
I’ve never plotted schemes or crafted elaborate plans.
Sure, I might act suspicious when I can’t explain myself.
But especially since I possessed Ariel’s body, I thought my expressions were too transparent to hide anything.
And yet Blake said he couldn’t read me?
I widened my eyes at him.
“What you see is what you get with me.”
“….”
“I’m serious.”
Can’t you trust me, just a little?
I’m rooting for you to return to your full, healthy self, to stop the destruction as in the original story, and to live a happy future.
But Blake only shook his head at my earnest gaze.
“I can see the wheels turning, though.”
“….”
“There’s a library connected to the garden. Only priests use it, but perhaps you’ll find the information you’re looking for there.”
He shifted topics smoothly, as if nothing had happened.
Following his gaze, I saw a small, quaint white building. Ivy crept up its walls, giving it a quiet charm. That must be the library.
As he spoke, Blake held out his hand to me.
Was he offering to escort me? I studied his face.
Oddly, though, he avoided my eyes, almost skittishly.
That evasive glance roused my stubbornness. Yet he refused to meet my gaze, pretending distraction.
Really.
What on earth was going through his mind?
I sighed deeply.
Then, I took his large, cold, but elegantly long-fingered hand.
Immediately, he flinched.
What was that reaction? He was the one who offered it!
As if he’d expected me to refuse.
I stared at him in disbelief, but he only mumbled something strange under his breath.
“Another test…”
“…What?”
“…Nothing. Let’s go.”
