IWDBPTR 05

Chapter 5

In the Temple of Idelion, priests were not forbidden from romance or marriage.
They emphasized chastity when possible, but ordinary romantic relationships and building a family were not considered heretical or immoral.
The same applied to saints.
Saints who had married, such as Saint Annabelle and Saint Maximus, were not unheard of.
However, a priest’s direct descendants could never enter the temple clergy for three generations and could not even speak on matters occurring within the temple.
It was a minimal safeguard to prevent collusion between the temple and secular power.
As long as this rule was followed, nothing could prevent a saint from marrying.

“But the emperor himself is proposing that I marry his son?”
And at a time when her powers had only just manifested, no more than a few days ago?

What was this old man like before she reincarnated?
Before the regression, Tarren had already been the emperor. He sat on the throne despite a face full of wrinkles, with shriveled, branch-like limbs and sagging skin.
What was more striking was his gaze. Piercing, almost insane, he would look at people sharply, criticize, doubt, and curse them.
Even after reluctantly placing his only son and heir, Shailior, on the throne as crown prince, he treated him like a servant.

Shailior, trained from childhood to endure Tarren’s irritable and insane temperament, had developed near-supernatural skill in managing the emperor’s fits of nerves and mania.
Yet even Shailior occasionally showed signs of fatigue.
And she had been drawn to that.
Because his position didn’t allow him to show exhaustion to others—just like her.
Because she pitied the way he had to wait silently in the face of injustice.

—Even for Shailior, a more capable new saint like Bella would be more helpful than you, an incompetent saint. Be happy; the man you like will live more comfortably from now on.

Rasel clenched her fists tightly beneath the long sleeves of her dress.
Then, she smiled brightly.

“No, Your Majesty.”

The attendants standing behind the couch where Tarren sat went pale.
The emperor’s sparse eyebrows twitched.

“‘No’?”

“Yes. I cannot marry Prince Shailior.”

Tarren’s eyes drilled into her as if to pierce her, but Rasel continued to smile.
Her fists under her sleeves were white from clenching so tightly, but she maintained her composure.

“To marry my son is to place me as your guardian. And yet you refuse?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“First, I cannot marry someone I do not know. And you said Your Majesty would be my guardian, but why do I need a guardian?”

The emperor tilted his head, intrigued.

“You are an orphan, are you not? You have no adult to care for you. Even if the pope exists, he is extremely aged and not well.”

“That’s even harder to understand. If it’s because I am an orphan and have no one to care for me, then there are many other orphans in the temple. Why don’t you become their guardians? You should be their guardian too, not just mine.”

Rasel asked openly, like an innocent child. The emperor snorted.

“I love what is valuable. I do not believe the ordinary, lowly orphans of the temple hold the same value as a saint.”

“Then all the more, Your Majesty cannot be my guardian. Idelion teaches that everyone has the same potential. All the orphans, and I, have equal potential. We are equal under Idelion’s teachings.”

A brief silence followed.

“An invisible child, barely noticed, was it? Hmph.”

Tarren muttered slowly.

“You are quite audacious and cheeky.”

“If I was cheeky, I apologize.”

Rasel bowed apologetically, yet her heart did not sink as much as it might have.
—You think I don’t know you’re always scheming behind my back? You red-eyes, ready to strike when I close mine, trying to kill me with this thing you’ve brought!

She remembered how Tarren, frail with sickness, would throw medicines at Shailior, raging whenever Shailior tried to bring him medicine.
Tarren’s wrath wasn’t limited to Shailior.
—Why drag along a powerless, worthless saint? Bringing such a useless thing to mock me? I can’t remove it from sight!

At first, hearing such verbal abuse had shocked her to tears.
But such open, direct scorn was something only the emperor could deliver.
She wiped her tears for Shailior’s sake and endured. Over time, she had grown accustomed to Tarren’s tyranny.

Though she no longer loved Shailior, the strength of heart she had developed through loving him proved useful.
Rasel was not afraid of Tarren like others, though she remained tense.

Tarren’s gaze swept over her sharply. Rasel kept her head lowered, avoiding his eyes while thinking to herself:
Even the emperor cannot force me to marry as long as I refuse officially. He might try something behind my back, but would he really?

If she refused so openly, it would likely bruise the emperor’s pride, and he might retreat.
Of course, he could still retaliate later, but for Rasel, avoiding marriage to Shailior was far more important.

Even in her previous life, Shailior had been willing to die for a marriage he wanted.
I don’t hate Shailior. The only evidence of betrayal is Bella’s words. I don’t resent him… yet. But…

At that moment, a servant’s polite voice came from the door.

“Your Majesty, urgent news has arrived from the palace.”

“Enter and report.”

Without Rasel’s permission, Tarren announced this unilaterally.
The door swung open, and a red-haired boy entered, kneeling by the emperor and respectfully holding a letter with both hands.
It was Shailior.

Tarren ignored the boy, snatching the letter from his hands and reading it.
Shailior lowered his eyes and stepped aside cautiously, hands folded.
He looked more like a servant than the empire’s only prince.

Rasel quietly observed him.
She had loved him.
She had pitied him.
She had relied on him.
And yet… why?

Shailior has not been proven guilty yet.
Her rational mind reminded her. But her emotions countered sharply.

And yet? Where was he when I was dying? The one who came was someone else entirely.
He might not have known. There’s no law that he had to know.
Fine, let’s accept that. But what about this? I wanted to be his strength, even taking the ridiculous medicine that would give me holy power. He knew that. Did he ever say I didn’t need to struggle? Did he ever say it’s fine now, let’s marry? No! He was always vague, soft, evasive!

Reason was silent.

When I suffered as a saint, what did he do? He was obsessed with what I couldn’t do for him as a saint. And I was despised more for acting like a neglected saint. Shailior knew everything. And yet, he just let me sacrifice myself!

Her emotions cried out.
Rasel had helped Shailior as a saint, using even her precarious position, because she loved him and was fundamentally lonely.
So lonely, with nowhere to turn. Even though she had her friend Bella, people gossiped whenever they were together.

• “Look at them. They’re like crows in class.”

• “Bella should have been the saint, surely.”

• “I’ve never seen someone struggle so much against Idelion’s prophecy.”

• “Or maybe someone distorted Idelion’s true will to take the position.”

Even though Rasel had no ability to falsify Idelion’s prophecy, people whispered such nonsense.
Thus, while she still liked and relied on Bella, she worried that getting close to her might even expose Bella to insults.

In that situation, she noticed Shailior, also seemingly suffering.

• “It’s not your fault. You are kind, wise, and quietly diligent. I know who you are.”

Shailior had said that.
It had been such salvation, such comfort.
And now, how bitter those words felt.

Tarren, having finished reading the letter, pondered briefly before rising, leaning on his golden staff.
Shailior hurried to support him, but Tarren swatted him away like a bothersome fly.

“I must be going. Consider my proposal again, saint.”

“My refusal stands, Your Majesty. Farewell.”

The emperor showed no reaction and left the audience hall.
Shailior glanced at Rasel once as he followed and then quickly left.

Rasel sat alone, stunned, in the emptied hall, frowning.

So even a saint cannot openly disobey the emperor?
Though she had not become a saint by choice, she did not wish her status to be so disregarded.

Secular rulers ignore religion too much… though what can the temple do?

No one now risks life and death over religion. In diplomacy, faith and piety no longer mattered.
Money and technological progress had become the only important factors.

Rasel bitterly smiled as a representative of the now-obsolete temple.
What meaning does it even have that I became a saint again?

She raised her hand, igniting a small flame, then clenched her fist to snuff it out with a sigh.