“And what was the reason this time?”

“She spilled the tea, perhaps,“ 

When she drank tea with him, she had no reason to worry. No one would dare poison tea meant for the boy; by extension, hers was also safe.

Setting the cup down, she finally met his gaze. His green eyes were fixed on her, waiting. There was an unspoken question in them—an expectation that she would confess the truth behind her lies.

Those eyes always made her feel breathless. Since some point, he had been silently waiting for her to tell him everything. To admit the real reasons behind her actions, to share the pain she kept hidden.

Unable to contain her emotions, her heart ached, and the future felt suffocating, leaving her no choice but to endure it alone. She wanted to confess that and find solace in the boy’s embrace, seeking comfort in his warmth. She didn’t want to bear it alone. She wanted to plead with him to share this misfortune.

But…

The girl clenched her fists tightly. Like the marks her nails left on her palms, the path she needed to take was clear. She would not share her misfortune, not shift her despair onto others, but always stand tall with pride, fighting her own battles with her father.

It wasn’t that she feared the boy might spread the truth. She knew better than anyone that he wouldn’t. It was etched in his eyes and his beautiful soul. On the contrary, the boy would willingly share the burden of such tragedy. And it was precisely that quality that frightened her the most.

To the girl, the boy was light. He was hope and the future. The only thing she had left. Therefore, she couldn’t drag him into the abyss alongside her. Her beautiful garden—a place she could never trample with her own hands. One does not tarnish one’s own light with ashes. Hope needed to remain radiant in its place. Only then could she muster the strength to think of the future.

Besides, the time she spent with the boy was the only moment she could forget everything else and focus solely on him—a rare moment of normalcy in her turbulent life. She didn’t want to ruin that with other stories.

“How’s your swordsmanship training going?”

Thus, she didn’t say anything. Not one of the words the boy longed to hear passed her lips. She feigned ignorance of the desperation in his eyes and ignored his unspoken plea to share the burden.

“…Thanks to your concern, it’s going well.”

Still, she never doubted that the boy would stay by her side. His gaze was unwaveringly fixed on her. Unaware that his trust in her was slowly crumbling, she found solace in that he always sought her out first, without her saying a word. No matter how much she lashed out or masked her pain with coldness, she believed he would endure her.

Was this punishment for such naive faith?

“I want to meet the Saintess.”

One day, she said this to the boy. Two years had passed since her mother’s death—two years since Marquis Dekar Klein had been falsely accused and met his end. The Marquis sometimes appeared in her dreams, asking if she was ready to create a better world. Each time, she wept and promised to try to carry on the future he had left behind. Then, he would smile—a smile she had never seen. Even knowing it was just a dream, she cried as though she had wronged him deeply.

Now, it was time to meet the person he had left behind. To be honest, the girl was uneasy about meeting the Saintess. That child had lost everything in an instant because of her. She was terrified of the reproach that might be directed her way. Though she was already living under the weight of many accusations, the thought of receiving blame from someone the Marquis had loved felt unbearable. 

Moreover, the sanctity associated with the Saintess was intimidating—a pure white light that seemed to cleanse all impurities. Would she crumble before that holiness, reduced to a sinner begging forgiveness? Even so, she knew she wouldn’t be forgiven. The thought made her want to avoid the encounter altogether. She reacted sharply whenever the Saintess was mentioned, acting as if the Saintess didn’t exist. She didn’t want to face her. She wasn’t confident she wouldn’t run if those eyes, identical to the Marquis’s, looked at her with resentment.

Yet, she eventually resolved to meet the Saintess. She had to, for she was the Marquis’s only family left. His final words still lingered in her ears, refusing to fade. She bore the responsibility of delivering his last message.

“Why? Are you worried I’ll do something bad?”

The girl’s sharp words burst at the boy, who hesitated to answer. Lately, their conversations always seemed to take this turn. Always on edge, the girl had grown irritable, snapping at even her source of hope. She was too exhausted to be kind, even to him.

“I won’t do anything. Just bring her.”

Her voice was calm but commanding, leaving the boy no room to refuse. Thus, the meeting was arranged without issue.

The trouble began the next day when the girl met the Saintess. She had prepared a tea table for their meeting, her heart trembling with anticipation. After dismissing everyone, she waited. Soon, she heard they had entered the palace. From a distance, she could see two figures approaching.

Her attention was drawn to a strikingly vibrant purple light as they drew nearer. She blinked in disbelief, but no matter how often she did, the light didn’t fade. It was her first time seeing such a light—so vivid it was almost painful. It wasn’t a light the Saintess should have. Every priest she had ever seen had a pure white glow, and the more devout they were, the brighter their light.

The purple light was unsettlingly alien, enough to evoke rejection. The warmth in the girl’s face vanished, leaving only a cold, indifferent expression.

“Your Highness.“

“Ruben.”

She urgently called the boy’s name, but he didn’t notice her unease and introduced his companion.

“May I introduce you? This is Lette.”

“It is an honor to meet the Rose of Bailey. I am Lette.”

The girl froze, staring intently at Lette. Her gaze was drawn to the transparent, sky-like blue of Lette’s eyes, within which the unnerving purple light swirled. It felt like standing before a wild beast. Instinctively, she recognized that this light didn’t belong here.

Furthermore, no trace of the Saintess’s white light could be found. She questioned the boy with a voice as cold and hardened as her expression.

“Ruben, where is the Saintess?”

The boy blinked in confusion, seemingly puzzled by her question, and replied with a baffled tone.

“Your Highness, she’s standing right in front of you.“

“What?“

“This is Lette, the saintess, Your Highness.”

The girl gazed down at Lette, the so-called Saintess, with suspicion. Her silvery-white hair and clear blue eyes were indeed divine in appearance. But if not for the dark purple light within her eyes, the girl might have believed she was the Saintess without question.

As her gaze lingered, Lette seemed to realize the intent behind it and flinched, stepping back. It was a telltale sign that her true nature had been discovered. The girl didn’t miss Lette’s retreat, nor her subtle fear.

“This girl isn’t a saintess.”

Her voice was chillingly composed, laced with certainty. In Lette’s trembling blue eyes, the girl saw confirmation of her words. At that moment, only she and Lette understood the truth. The boy alone remained clueless, stammering as he questioned her statement.

“What?“

“Quite bold of you to deceive others like this.”

Lette, who had been making steady eye contact, suddenly averted her gaze. Then, in a voice as soft as the fluttering of a lark’s wings, she muttered:

“I’m not sure what you mean…”

“Good at lying, too.”

With a short, bitter laugh, the girl turned to the boy, her eyes sharp and accusing.

“Either you tried to fool me with a fake saintess, or this sly girl is lying—one of the two.“

“Your Highness, what are you saying…“

“Should I spell it out for you? This girl is no saintess.”

Her unwavering certainty made the boy’s gaze falter. His eyes were filled with confusion as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing or seeing. Yet he couldn’t afford to waver. The girl looked into his clear eyes and desperately pleaded, even if only in silence.

Believe me. Just this once, believe me again. You’re my knight. My person. You have to believe me.

But the boy betrayed her expectations. When his gaze finally steadied, it was to place himself firmly between her and Lette, shielding the girl with a protective grasp of her tiny hand.

“Please retract your unfounded accusations.”

“….”

“I cannot stand by while you insult the saintess.”

Liar.

The world seemed to splinter and shatter into fragments, dissolving into the void. The girl felt herself plunging into endless despair, an overwhelming darkness creeping up and consuming her. The world had gone dark—an unbearable sensation.

“And if I don’t? What then?”

I thought you’d understand. Because you’re my knight. My one and only. I believed you’d see through lies to the truth and find the real me, even without words.

But deep down, she knew the truth: unspoken words remain unknown. What is hidden stays hidden. Truth, on its own, has no power. Yet, despite knowing this, she trusted him. Because he was all she had. Without him, there was no one and nothing she could trust.

Even so, you didn’t have to tear apart my foolishness with your own hands. You didn’t have to show me in the cruelest way possible.

“Will you draw your sword against me?”

The girl’s trembling voice wavered as she tried to calm herself, but her emotions seeped through, her tone rising with her growing agitation.

“Don’t push me to the point where I can no longer endure, Your Highness.“

“I’m the one holding back. Just how much longer are you going to keep shielding that girl?“

“Your Highness.”

The boy’s sharp call went unanswered as the girl turned her attention to Lette. The truth she needed to uncover lay before her.

“Go on, tell me. Are you truly a saintess?”