Chapter 67…………………………………………………………
“Aria.”
She seemed to notice the change in my voice, and her eyes grew serious as well.
“Yes, Saint.”
“If you ever leave this place, don’t form any attachments to anyone.”
“What do you mean by that…?”
“Even if you fake your death, claiming you died in a carriage accident, until this place finds peace…”
Aria listened without interrupting me.
“Don’t create someone precious to you.”
Even if she stayed somewhere away from people, this was something I wanted to tell her in advance before she left Melissa.
Aria smiled faintly and asked,
“Is it because I’d become your weakness, Saint?”
I shook my head firmly, and she tilted her head slightly in response.
I cupped the teacup in front of me with both hands and lowered my eyes. When I spoke, my chest ached.
No, “aching” barely described it. The days when the world seemed to crumble were still vivid in my memory.
I bit my lower lip hard.
My reflection in the rippling tea was brutally honest.
Aria didn’t rush me for an answer. After barely calming my mind, I smiled faintly and lifted my head.
“You will become the weakness of the one Aria cherishes most.”
This wasn’t a statement meant only for her—it was something I had repeatedly told myself.
“…Because of me, the person I care about could get hurt.”
I nodded bitterly.
“It’s better to be cautious in everything, so I wanted to tell you.”
The hardest thing wasn’t that a loved one became my weakness and caused me pain—it was that I became the weakness of someone precious, and they ended up sacrificed.
A terrible, almost unbearable ordeal.
I knew that from experience.
It almost felt like divine providence that I could become their protector, serving them like a loyal dog.
Just in case, I didn’t want anyone—me or her—to become someone’s weakness and suffer that tragedy.
Aria looked at me silently.
Just as I had once comforted her, she covered my hand with hers.
She twisted the dried tears in her eyes into a smile.
“I’ll do that. So, please let yourself relax a little.”
I swallowed the surge of emotion and nodded.
The world was unpredictable. I didn’t tell her that everything would be resolved someday.
Fortunately, she didn’t ask either.
“Saint.”
“Yes, Aria.”
She hesitated, as if she had something to say, and lowered the corner of her eyes.
I also understood what she was about to say.
She was sorry for making me carry the burden alone.
I averted my gaze. Sometimes it’s overwhelming to receive someone’s emotions directly.
Like now.
“Anyway, I’ll discuss the details with His Highness the Prince.”
“Thank you, Saint.”
I quietly stared at the spot where she had been.
I idly adjusted my teacup and brought it to my lips.
The tea had cooled, and while the floral scent lingered, it tasted bitter.
Setting the cup down, I turned my gaze. The clear sky had begun to fade into sunset.
My eyes wandered uncontrollably toward the desk with Cardin’s letter.
His handwriting, expressing concern for me, stirred many thoughts.
I closed my eyes and silently repeated what I had said to Aria, over and over, recalling our end.
I vowed once more that I would not become his weakness.
Only when darkness fell over the sunset did I finally walk to the desk.
I began writing a letter to Raymond.
He had sent someone to escort Aria safely, unseen.
Even just providing her a place to stay was already something to be grateful for.
I expressed my thanks for his kindness and conveyed what I had planned: in Melissa, Aria’s safest path was to remain “dead.”
Still, just in case, I warned her not to form attachments.
I finished the letter to Raymond but couldn’t put down the pen. Its nib hovered, lost.
On the blank page, black ink slowly spread in a circle.
I took out a new sheet, but could write nothing, only spreading ink.
This repeated several times.
Finally, gripping the pen properly, I wrote the letter to Cardin.
When I signed my name at the end, I almost imagined hearing him call me.
“Shallen.”
“…….”
“May I call you by your name?”
His voice from that day—asking if he could call me by name once I stepped down from being Saint—echoed in my ears.
Naturally, I recalled what followed, like a winding clock spring:
“And then, Saint, will you call me by my name, not as Duke?”
My love had always been trapped in sorrow, so his words felt both thrilling and sad, even frightening.
Even in that sorrow, I still liked him—that was the problem.
Shaking off these indulgent thoughts, I picked up the paper Philip had given me.
One of the prearranged pilgrimage routes had changed—what would they do? Would they follow the rest as planned?
As I remembered, the third pilgrimage took a long time to return to the temple. On the way back, the fourth and fifth routes were also completed.
A careful voice, barely audible, pulled me from my reverie.
“Saint, are you in there?”
It was Alec.
He stood holding a letter rolled and tied with a thin string.
I walked to the door, opened it quietly, and he glanced at the letter in my hand.
“Are you sending it now?”
“Yes. Did you tell Aria?”
I nodded.
“Just tell the temple head that Aria wishes to travel across many lands.”
“Understood.”
“Then, I’ll leave it to you.”
He took the letter and slipped it into his inner pocket.
After watching Alec head toward the courtyard with the altar, I closed the door.
Leaning against it, I gazed at the sky. A nail moon hung above. The stars that usually accompanied it weren’t visible tonight.
For some reason, the moon seemed lonely. I had a useless thought that offered me no help.
I stared out the window for quite a long time.
There was no reason.
Was it because of the lonely moon, or like a visitor arriving at dawn?
Aria’s lodging problem had been resolved, and Harold was now entirely mine.
Philip and Alec were performing better than expected in their roles.
Even I had gained great spiritual power, unlike before.
Many believers came under the pretext of paying respects, seeking me out.
Yet why…
Why did I feel empty?
I couldn’t tell where this emptiness came from. I just wanted to lean on something, rest for a while.
Even a moment when I had no responsibilities, no burdens, would have been enough.
I wanted the memories of debts owed to someone to vanish from my mind, even for a moment.
I wanted the guilt inside me to be erased.
It felt like my emotions were pleading for a break.
But there was nowhere in this world for my feelings to rest. So I crouched and surrounded myself with a protective spiritual barrier.
No one was threatening me now.
Just…
The next day, as expected, the meeting for the third pilgrimage route was held.
The questions I had yesterday were immediately answered.
It was a deviation from Fabivan’s plan, but from then on, it seemed he intended to follow the original path, as listed on the documents Philip had given me.
