Chapter 198
“Wait—just a moment.”
Stammering, she pulled away. Seeing Eir’s pale face, Rubel asked with concern.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt somewhere?”
“No, I’m fine.”
Yet even as she said this, she squeezed her eyes shut from dizziness. She couldn’t believe this situation was unfolding exactly as in her dream.
Why had she dreamed such a thing? Could that, too, have been the mirror’s power?
During her meeting with the Proxy, he had asked whether anything unusual happened after she obtained the treasure. Perhaps the Proxy had already guessed she might experience something like this.
‘Then what does this mean? Will Rubel really shoot an arrow at me, just like in the dream?’
Eir cautiously opened her eyes.
The moment she did, she met his blue eyes filled with worry. Though his face was entirely different, for an instant, the image from her dream overlapped with the present.
‘Capture that witch at once!’
That was what he had shouted in her dream as he aimed his bow at her. The taut bowstring drawn without hesitation, his expression brimming with betrayal—it all felt vivid, as if she had witnessed it firsthand.
Rubel reached out to reassure the frightened Eir, but she reflexively slapped his hand away with a sharp sound. Flustered, Eir herself didn’t understand why she had done that and quickly apologized.
“Sorry. I just… got confused for a second…….”
Of course, Rubel wasn’t offended in the slightest.
Though she pretended to be fine, Eir had barely escaped after being tortured by the coven. It was only natural that memories of that time would resurface now. Terrible memories often only rise to the surface once safety returns.
Unaware that the “terrible memory” she recalled was of him, he gently patted her knee.
“It’s alright. When frightening thoughts come, don’t try to ignore them—ponder them carefully. Humans tend to exaggerate, and often what we remember differs from what actually happened. Usually, there are contradictions in between.”
Eir was about to say that wasn’t the case when she suddenly realized something.
Now that she thought about it, the two dreams she’d had also contradicted each other. In the second dream, Rubel had heard her confess she was a runaway priestess and said he didn’t care. But in the first, he had called her a witch and chased her.
If he’d heard her confess to being a priestess, why would he call her a witch and hunt her?
Perhaps neither of the two dreams was a definite future—just one of many possibilities. Even in the past, not all of the Proxy’s precognitive dreams came true. The future inevitably changes based on human choices.
Eir chose to confess honestly, just as in the second dream.
“I have something to tell you.”
“What is it?”
His hand, which had been softly patting her knee, stilled. Unable to bear the anxiety, she clenched her fists and bit her lip slightly.
“It’s about my true identity. I’m…… not a witch. I’m a runaway priestess. I wanted to tell you properly.”
Rubel silently studied her with an unreadable gaze before replying flatly.
“Are we back to this again?”
“Everything I said back then was true. It’s real. Soon, Granny’s curse will lift, and everyone will remember me—you’ll find out then. But I wanted you to know first. My real identity.”
Her heart felt ready to burst. Eir gasped for air.
Just like in the dream, he stared at her with that same inscrutable look. She knew he would say he didn’t care, yet the unease refused to settle.
And his eyes were…… strange.
Not surprise, not suspicion, nor even confirmation of something he already knew—just utterly unreadable.
“It doesn’t matter.”
Rubel answered quietly.
“Whether you’re a witch or a runaway priestess, I don’t care. At this point, what difference does it make?”
“Then what does matter to you?”
As in the dream, Rubel tried to embrace her. But Eir leaned back—she wanted to see his face.
She wanted to understand him. More precisely, she wanted to grasp what he was thinking.
Rubel tilted his head slightly, as if it were no big deal, smiled, then lifted her hand and pressed his lips to its back.
His face looked noble, like a knight taking an oath.
“Having you by my side. What else could matter?”
Yet his eyes gleamed with something beyond loyalty—a peculiar obsession. As if unwilling to let her see it, he lowered his gaze.
“But how can we stay together?”
Eir pulled her hand back, overwhelmed by helplessness.
“You’re confined to the prayer chamber, and I’ll soon be imprisoned for my crimes.”
In this situation, his words sounded less like a sweet confession and more like stubborn insistence—an obsession masquerading as devotion.
Expressionless, Rubel withdrew his hand and straightened. The look he gave her carried an inexplicable pressure.
“You met with the Proxy, didn’t you? What did you discuss? Since he left you alone afterward, I assume you didn’t tell him what you told me?”
“Why?”
“If you did, don’t go through with it.”
Eir’s mouth fell open. Was he really urging her to lie?
Rubel Shinote—the knight renowned throughout the Divine Empire for his nobility and piety?
“Why……?”
“Because the chances of us staying together are higher if you remain the ‘good witch.’”
He explained it slowly, as if it were the simplest logic. Though shocked and guilt-ridden—as if she’d ruined something—Eir avoided addressing it directly and approached the issue differently.
“People will remember me soon anyway. Granny said so. If I meet someone who remembers me vividly or stay outside the village too long, the curse will break.”
Once everyone recalled Priestess Eir, they’d realize she was a runaway priestess even if she said nothing. But Rubel only replied firmly.
“I’ll handle that. You don’t need to worry about anything.”
As if there were another way.
It was frustrating. Worse, the Proxy already knew everything. Things wouldn’t go Rubel’s way.
Eir tried to explain that the curse didn’t work on the Proxy—that he’d even mentioned meeting her years ago. But then, a knock sounded at the door. Without giving her a chance, Rubel pulled her to her feet.
“That’ll be Abel. You should return to the audience chamber before others arrive. I’ll come find you later.”
“Where…… No, how?”
Wasn’t he confined too? But Rubel only smiled silently.
***
Not long after Abel escorted Eir back to the audience chamber, the priestess who had first brought her there arrived.
“The Proxy won’t return today. You may go back to your room.”
Eir was still catching her breath from rushing back undetected, so the sudden announcement startled her.
Soon, though, she wondered if this woman, like Abel, was part of Rubel’s faction.
No one could miss Eir’s flushed face and heaving chest, yet the priestess pretended not to notice, merely turning her head to guide the way.
Most suspicious of all was the ointment she handed over—something she’d ignored the first time.
‘Take this medicine and apply it before bed.’
Since Rubel had said those words at parting, Eir assumed Abel would deliver it. But it was the priestess who handed it over, clearing her throat awkwardly before retreating—hardly the demeanor of someone performing a routine duty.
“So that’s why he was so confident.”
Eir murmured, staring at the small ceramic jar of ointment.
Even if he was confined to the prayer chamber, was there any place in the Central Temple beyond Rubel’s influence?
“No wonder he was so sure.”
But the Proxy already knew everything. No matter how formidable Rubel was, things wouldn’t go his way.
Eir closed her eyes, thinking this.
And that night, she dreamed again.
A dream of Rubel, drenched in blood, standing expressionless over the Proxy’s collapsed form—a sword in his hand.
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