Chapter 13

It was absurd.

Ian was a man she hadn’t seen in ages—practically a stranger.  

Sure, priests could marry and even fall in love, but she had never seen Ian in that way. Not even close.  

She didn’t know a thing about his personality, either.

Utterly baffled, Asla strode up to Enoch, grabbed his hand, and chided him in a low voice.

“What on earth are you thinking?!”

Enoch looked down at her, his dark eyes visibly trembling—and Asla was quietly startled by the sight.

“You’re in the middle of divorcing me. And this morning, you went out without telling me—to meet that man. Isn’t that enough to make me misunderstand?”

Though his tone was sarcastic, he looked genuinely downcast.  

Asla blinked. She could read the jealousy burning in his eyes, and it confused her.

‘Why?’

He’d always been indifferent to her.  

But this time, it wasn’t possessiveness—it was jealousy. Clearly.

Whatever it was he felt, Asla, who had been wrongly accused, cut in coldly.

“That’s not what this is.”

But Enoch didn’t budge. He didn’t seem convinced.

“I said it yesterday too—because you’re beautiful, there’ll always be men trying to charm you. Especially Ian Hertha—he’s rotten to the core.”

With that, Enoch pulled her toward him and embraced her.

Asla found herself pressed against his chest, wide-eyed and flustered. Her face flushed red.

“Enoch…”

It was the first time she’d been held in his arms. The first time they’d been this close.  

The scent of him—clean and warm—made her head spin.

She stared at the hand that now wrapped around her shoulder, stunned.

“You… you’re weak to good looks.”

Then came his murmured words, which jolted her back to clarity.

“…What?”

“That’s why he’s dangerous. He’s dangerous on the outside and the inside.”

His voice was sharp with warning. Startled, Asla looked up at him.

They were close—so close their breath mingled—and he was so devastatingly handsome that she thought she might forget to breathe.

‘Weak to looks? Me?’

Sure, she liked his handsome face. But it wasn’t just that. It was the atmosphere he carried… and—

Asla tried to say something, to explain, but her thoughts were a mess and her lips only parted soundlessly.

Enoch narrowed his eyes, gently released her from his embrace, and took her hand tightly in his. Then he turned to face Ian.

Ian, who had been watching them, looked clearly displeased.

He ran a hand through his soft black hair, then gave Asla a polite smile.

“Lady Asla, what brings you to the temple? Allow me to assist you.”

“Ian.”

Ah.  

Asla remembered the reason she had come to the temple in the first place—to ask for help arranging her solo trip to the capital.

She started to step forward, but Enoch held her hand firmly.

“There’s no need. Like you said, I made arrangements so we could leave for the capital quickly. I’ve already bought the train tickets.”

“Oh… you did?”

“Yes. I went out early this morning and got them myself—only to find my wife had mysteriously disappeared.”

He grumbled, and Asla widened her eyes in surprise.

It was unexpected.  

He’d actually remembered what she said yesterday—and followed through without complaint.

She forgot entirely why she wanted to go alone in the first place.  

Unconsciously, she nodded.

Then, smiling gently at Ian, she waved.

“It was nice seeing you, Ian. May the grace of the divine remain with you.”

“Lady Asla!”

“What is it?”

Ian strode toward them, eyes desperate.  

But Enoch bared his teeth, voice dangerous.

“Ian Hertha. I warned you—stay away.”

“She was a Princess of my homeland. Will you forbid even a priest from greeting her?”

“So, you’re saying you’ll continue to hover around her.”

“I never said that, Your Grace.”

With Asla between them, the two men exchanged sharp words.

The tension in the air was so palpable it almost stung, and Asla felt increasingly uncomfortable.

Enoch gave Ian, who was still smiling coolly, another icy warning.

“The priest of Dainus is rather rude. I won’t tolerate anything further.”

“Enoch!”

Asla tugged on his hand, trying to stop him. Enoch shot her a disgruntled look.

“Ian Hertha, you should stop too. If I ever need help, I’ll ask for it myself.”

“…Understood, Lady Asla.”

Ian gave a stiff reply, then stood there watching Asla walk away with Enoch.

Her light pink hair swayed gently, her skin glowed like porcelain. She carried herself as if indifferent to the world, yet she was kind and fair to all.  

Only now had he truly met his princess again.

Clenching his fists, Ian turned to his attending junior priest and gave a cold, firm order.

“Buy a train ticket to the capital. Immediately.”

“Pardon? Priest?”

“And send a telegram. Inform them I am transferring my post to the Grand Temple in the capital—effective immediately.”

Leaving behind the stunned junior priest, Ian turned away with a face tight with urgency.

The princess who had once been locked in a gilded cage—was finally starting to move.

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From the sleek, black steam locomotive, a cloud of white steam shot powerfully into the air.

With the sweltering summer heat adding to it, the Dainus train station felt particularly stifling, and Asla began fanning herself with her hand.

Seeing the beads of sweat forming on her forehead, Enoch gave Talet a subtle glance.

“So Dainus finally has a train station.”

Asla marveled at the station’s grandeur, not complaining about the heat. Enoch was quick to explain.

“It was completed a year ago. Trains are incredibly convenient and cost-efficient. Cities across the Empire—and even other kingdoms—are desperate to lay tracks of their own. The man who invested in the steel industry practically struck gold.”

Asla, eyeing Enoch who casually stroked his chin as he spoke, asked calmly, “And who might that man be?”

“Duke Enoch Ventus.”

He replied at once.

“The man who struck gold—His Grace, Duke Enoch Ventus.”

Asla narrowed her eyes and repeated his words in a deliberately matter-of-fact tone. But Enoch leaned in and whispered into her ear.

“A man who may have struck gold… but is about to lose his wife. Poor Enoch Ventus.”

“…What are you doing?”

Asla stepped back and pushed him away. She couldn’t tell whether it was his breath or the heat of the station making her face warm, but suddenly, the place felt oppressively hot.

She’d grown up in the Holy Kingdom of Sherita, far to the south, and always thought the Empire’s summers were tame by comparison. But now… she wasn’t so sure.

Avoiding Enoch’s intense gaze, she turned on her heel and strode away.

“Where are you going, Asla?”

“To board the train, obviously. We’re at the station.”

“Not that way.”

The direction Enoch pointed in was the complete opposite of where she was heading.

Her composed expression wavered in mild embarrassment. Enoch chuckled, clearly amused.

“First time here, huh?”

“You’re terrible with directions. So don’t even think about rushing off to the capital alone. You’ll just end up lost.”

“I am not terrible with directions…”

Asla bristled, but Enoch only shrugged. With no solid rebuttal, she pressed her lips shut.

Taking the hand he offered, she followed him toward the train.

But a question nagged at her.

How did he know she was bad with directions?

She hadn’t exactly had the chance to wander off alone in the two years she’d lived at the Ventus estate… and it wasn’t like he ever paid much attention to her.

Glancing briefly at May, who was trailing behind them, Asla asked cautiously,

“How did you know I was planning to go to the capital alone? I never even told May.”

“You haven’t visited the temple in ages. Why suddenly now, and this temple in particular? Think about what kind of help one might go there to ask for. It wasn’t hard to guess.”

Her eyes widened beneath the wide lavender hat that shaded her face.

Quickly, she glanced around at the bustling crowd.

People were sneaking glances at Enoch, clearly taken by his striking appearance. But the clamor of the station seemed to drown out their conversation.

“What if someone hears you? Watch your mouth, Duke Enoch Ventus.”

“Yes, Princess Asla.”

“…I’m not joking.”

“Neither am I.”

Asla, lost for words at his shameless reply, let out a sigh and pulled the brim of her hat down further to hide her face.

If May was right, then many people would still recognize the last princess of the Holy Kingdom.

Yet here was Enoch, boldly implying that “the princess avoids the temple” without a second thought.

How did he know she no longer prayed to God?

A chill ran down her back, despite the heat.

Has she been that obvious lately?

She’d spent twenty-two years carefully repressing her emotions, mastering the art of keeping her thoughts from showing. Or so she thought.

“Here we are. Let me help you up.”

By the time they reached the train car, Enoch stepped up the narrow steps with smooth, agile movements and extended a graceful hand toward Asla.  

As she looked up at him, the sharp line of his jaw and the hollow of his throat were clearly visible—and something in Asla’s chest gave a faint jolt.

’Such a devastatingly handsome man.’

Even if she managed to survive and keep living, she doubted there would ever be another man who could stir her heart this much. With that thought, she took his hand.

When Enoch smiled, lips curving cleanly to reveal white teeth, her heart grew even more restless.  

‘How is he this kind?’  

Just yesterday, they had parted awkwardly, and yet today they were speaking like nothing had happened. The shift in their dynamic felt strange… but oddly comforting.

After walking down a narrow hallway, a train attendant bowed deeply and slid open the door upon receiving their gold-plated tickets.

Inside was a spacious first-class compartment, with two chairs facing each other across a table.

Enoch exchanged a few words with the attendant, then stepped back out. Meanwhile, May took off Asla’s hat and let out a soft gasp.

“It’s my first time seeing first class, my lady!”

“It’s my first time riding it too.”

“I heard it’s almost impossible to get a first-class seat on the day of departure. According to the secretary, the Duke came to the station himself this morning and half-threatened them for it.”

“Surely not.”

Asla chuckled faintly, watching May fix her hair flattened by the hat.  

‘Enoch? Threatening someone?’ 

The image didn’t suit him at all.

As May finished straightening her hair, she asked cautiously, “Is there anything else I can do for you? I should head to second class now.”

“Oh, right.”

May beamed, saying it was her first time in second class as well.  

Asla suddenly felt a bit gloomy—realizing she would be alone with Enoch in this room.

She was reminded of something she’d mumbled in her sleep last night.  

Mustering up some courage, she reached out and tugged lightly on May’s skirt.

“The room’s quite spacious… Can’t you ride with me instead?”

“Pardon, my Lady…?”

“Your and Talet’s seats must be wide enough, too…”

Before May could even begin to fumble for an excuse, the door slid open and Enoch stepped inside.  

May, visibly relieved, bowed hastily and slipped away.