Chapter 115
The tavern buzzed with lively noise — the usual mix of quarrels and commotion typical of such places. Among the diverse crowd gathered there, one figure stood out distinctly: a small-framed person with a deep hood pulled low over their head.
With a loud thud, the tavern owner slid a worn wooden mug brimming with beer toward the hooded silhouette.
For a moment, a slender, pale hand grasped the handle and then disappeared.
For a long time, the hooded figure sat alone. The once calm gestures and movements gradually shifted into anxiety, fear, and finally, terror.
“This can’t be happening…”
The hooded person muttered quietly, almost drunkenly.
“He should have shown up by now… Why?”
Click, click. A sound like nails being bitten slipped out from beneath the hood. The slender, red lips spoke softly. Vigros. I was supposed to meet Vigros here.
“What happened?”
The golden eyes glared fiercely at the tavern door that refused to open, so sharp it seemed they could bite the nape of someone’s neck.
* * *
“Is this really okay? Are you sure it’s alright?”
Shana rolled her black eyes like beads. The stiff escort knight pressed down with a stern look and a sharp glare. The only one carefree was the silver-haired girl, who nonchalantly took a big bite of her ice cream.
She smiled mischievously and swallowed the ice cream with a gulp.
“It’s okay. It was supposed to be like this from the start. Because I show up to class every time, people just get all kinds of wrong ideas.”
“But… Lady Iora, you’re a candidate for the saint, aren’t you?”
“That doesn’t mean anything. Don’t worry about it.”
“Hmm, why do you say that? It’s so sad, sniffle.”
She had been walking diligently all alone. Like a stubborn turtle, with no one to recognize her efforts. It felt unfair. Iora glanced around eagerly. There was so much delicious food, sights, and things to enjoy here. The exotic scenery was absolutely beautiful.
‘Everything feels so new and foreign. This feels like I’m traveling abroad every single day.’
In her previous life as Kim Jiyeon, she’d never even been on an overseas trip once. Lately, what Iora had really fallen for was this ice cream. It was on a completely different level from the convenience store or supermarket ice cream she used to eat.
Especially that chewy, chewy texture!
‘Is this rice cake?’
She swallowed the silly thought and stuffed more into her mouth, feeling waves of happiness. Shana quietly watched her and then started scribbling something down, while the stern-looking guard finally began to nag.
“It’s unhygienic, my lady. You should stop eating that. You might get an upset stomach.”
“What could possibly be wrong with it?”
Iora looked at him incredulously. He raised his eyebrows and stared at the ice cream.
“That street food was being sold with the lids open. That’s a violation of health regulations…”
“Enough. Today’s a day to do whatever I want, so I’m not taking any nagging, my lord.”
“My lady, what childish words are those?”
“Why are you always so desperate to nag me, my lord?”
Just then, since they were sitting in a two-story café, the plaza below was clearly visible. Iora turned her gaze toward the murmurs and commotion, and recognized many familiar faces caught in the spotlight.
“Huh? What’s going on? That’s the Crown Prince and Arcanda.”
Iora noticed that the nagging guard and the cute mushroom-headed companion standing beside her were nervously watching the scene. She glanced over and saw Shana looking worried, almost as if she might cry, and offering up her own portion of ice cream.
“You must be upset, Lady Iora…”
“…Why are you staring so hard? Don’t look.”
Iora sucked on her ice cream spoon as she stared straight at Shana, who was being kind, and at Guillen, who was asking if she was jealous. Then, pulling her chair closer, she rested her arms on the terrace window to get a proper view.
“Upset? Nah. Next time, I should try sprinkling almonds or nuts on top. Chocolate syrup would be good too. Don’t you think it’d go well, Shana?”
“Hehe, sounds delicious… Ah, no, that’s not what I meant.”
“It really is fine.”
What Iora could see was the gleaming golden hair of a girl running, the man who embraced her tightly in his arms, and the cheers of people blessing them. She squinted her eyes.
The original novel flashed through her mind like a blow to the head.
「Arcanda was afraid. The upcoming Saint Confirmation Ceremony, her birthday, and the future that would change because of it — all of it. Becoming the Saint meant carrying the heavy expectations of so many people.
When she thought of Crown Prince Ovid, who had always treated her kindly since they first met… she wanted to awaken the Saint’s power quickly, as he wished, but honestly, she was still only seventeen. She was scared.
There was no one she could talk to about that gnawing, decaying fear inside her.
When, by accident and under the influence of alcohol, she had confessed that to Ovid, he said: “Shall we go see the flowers?”
Come to think of it, Arcanda had never strolled leisurely through the streets before. Walking hand in hand with him, everything looked so beautiful that she couldn’t understand why she had been so overwhelmed with worry and fear.
She liked the hand tightly holding hers. Arcanda smiled shyly and looked up at the man beside her.
And overwhelmed by an unbearable joy, she leaned into him.
Listening to the fluttering wind, the cheers and applause of the crowd, she whispered to the man holding her tightly.
“Thank you for giving me courage today, Ovid.”
Hearing the pounding of her own heart, she made a promise:
“I will become a great Saint for you.”」
At that time, their emotions hadn’t fully connected yet.
If so, Ovid might still not have fallen in love with Arcanda.
In that moment, she remembered the Crown Prince looking sadly like an abandoned puppy. Because of the shining blonde hair, she couldn’t see the expression on Ovid’s face as he held her.
Was he smiling?
Or was he looking stiff and awkward, as if unsure what to do?
“Hmm…”
If he knew Iora was watching, maybe he’d make that sad expression again.
Just thinking that made her not want to look anymore. So, she turned her head briskly and moved her body back to its original position. Something shiny fell with a soft rustle — it looked like tears had burst out, sadly and pitifully.
Arcanda was really something. Or more precisely, whoever was possessing Arcanda.
If Kim Jiyeon had possessed Arcanda’s body, she’d never be able to fake tears.
Even if she had pinched her thigh with all her might, it wasn’t her at all to pretend to cry.
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