Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The sky looked unsettled with the dark clouds rolling restlessly overhead. Before long, rain would pour down in sheets.

Sian, seated in the prayer hall for morning service, feigned devotion while glancing out the window. Beyond the colorful stained glass, thunder rumbled faintly.

“By Your grace, we know that yesterday passed in peace. Feeling the infinite blessing of these successive days, we welcome this new morning in service and thanksgiving. Praise be to You, O Lord.”

“Praise be.”

She pressed her palms together and recited along with the gathered worshippers.

It had been a week since she began her life at the temple. She never managed the dawn prayers, but she always came for the morning ones. She had never been a devout believer, but right now she needed to look as pious as anyone else kneeling here. After all, she required the temple’s help.

If God truly saw into her heart, He might well strike her down on the spot.

But what choice do I have? Just pity me this once, and help me. Once my engagement is broken, I’ll become devout, I swear.

She ended her prayer with irreverent thoughts.

Crack!

A bolt of lightning split the sky, the sound so sharp and sudden it felt as though her blasphemous wish had been caught midair.

Just… overlook it, please.

Lowering her head in apology toward the vaulted ceiling, Sian slipped out with the line of departing worshippers.

Morning prayers always drew a crowd. Nearly everyone who sought help from the temple attended. But how many of them prayed sincerely, truly yearning for salvation?

Few could keep up such empty gestures. The work that followed was taxing and most worshippers were people who had already stumbled into gambling or crime. Within ten days, their true natures usually surfaced.

But Sian intended to stay here as long as it took. Months, if necessary. Morning prayer every day was nothing.

That didn’t mean she expected salvation from above.

“See you again soon, Sister.”

It was his next summons she awaited.

Actarachion Jerdin. High Priest of the temple, Margrave of the borderlands. A man whose power reached the imperial court itself, untouchable by any earthly law. He was the one who could save her.

Shaa—

The skies broke, rain lashing down.

Sian quickened her steps in the damp air.

After her light temple chores, she went to the dining hall. She grabbed a hunk of coarse bread and retreated to her room to eat it alone. Crowds unsettled her. Her striking appearance already drew enough stares, and ever since the incident on her first day, whispers about her true identity as a princess had spread quickly.

After a week, there was no one in the temple who didn’t know the silver haired, red eyed princess.

By the window in her small room, she chewed the dry bread.

She could just pretend not to notice the gossip and the stares. These people wouldn’t be in her life for long. It didn’t matter what they said about her.

What mattered was Actarachion Jerdin.

For days, she had wracked her brain for a way to win him to her side.

The first thing that came to mind, blasphemous though it felt, was money. As a princess, wealth was her strongest card.

But he was a Margrave. Money meant nothing to him. Even if she poured out her entire fortune, it wouldn’t tempt him.

Next came power and a strong support base. She could offer the backing of her royal house. But what did that matter to a man who already ruled the borderlands with authority enough to sway the Emperor? Would the power of a princess truly hold value to him?

Her best cards were useless.

So frustrating.

She set the bread aside and sighed.

Her life had been one of indulgence and leisure. She had no gift for words, no skill at forming relationships. What could she possibly use to draw Actarachion to her side? She had no answer.

Do I really have to beg for pity?

But he didn’t seem the type to be swayed by sympathy.

Six days had passed since their midnight card game. Without his summons, she had no chance of seeing him. The dependence gnawed at her pride.

Not that seeing him guaranteed progress anyway…

“I’m enduring just fine.”

“I never said I don’t have sex.”

Why… did that line pop into my head?

Her cheeks flushed red. She bit her lip. The one option she least wished to consider seemed the most effective.

Seduction with my body…

Sian smacked her forehead with her palm.

This is crazy. Come to your senses.

Madness. To even think of such a lowly thing against the High Priest? The mere thought sent shivers down her spine. It was degrading for both of them. She shook her head fiercely.

Knock, knock, knock.

While her impure thoughts flowed, the knock came like an uninvited guest.

Her guilty conscience bristled, and she snapped, “Who is it?”

“T-The High Priest has sent me.”

A stammering voice answered her sharp tone.

At those words, Sian straightened at once. Who else could it be but Actarachion?

She smoothed her appearance and opened the door.

“My apologies for raising my voice.”

“Not at all. I came without notice, it is I who should apologize.”

The young priest bowed and handed her a small wooden box.

“His Eminence asked me to deliver this to Your Highness.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t know. He said Your Highness would understand.”

“I see. Thank you.”

She accepted it without hesitation. Anxiety stirred, but this was the message she had been waiting for.

As soon as the priest left, she sat on her bed and opened the box. Inside lay something familiar.

A card, black with gold trim.

[5]

Her heart quickened. One by one, she pulled the others out, spreading them across the bed.

[1], [10], [4], [20], [20].

At the second [20], she realized that they were the exact cards she had drawn six nights ago.

Behind the last card lay a folded slip of white paper.

If you think you’re lucky, come to the courtyard tonight at midnight.

Only he could have written this provocative note.

And once again at midnight. Of course. A forbidden hour, fitting his nature perfectly. Headstrong, reckless. Unbecoming of a High Priest, but befitting a Margrave. His neat script only sharpened the contradiction.

What is he planning?

Her eyes lingered on the word “lucky.” Was it mere provocation? Or an invitation to another game?

The only way to know was to go.

* * *

The faint glow of a candle wavered along the dark corridor.

The temple’s silence was suffocating, so heavy even her breathing felt like a crime.

At times, Sian held her breath entirely as she slipped toward the courtyard. If she were caught at this hour, her reputation would shatter. The last week of prayers to prove her sincerity would have been in vain.

She moved carefully, step by step, and eased open the small back door. Its creak nearly stopped her heart. She froze, listening. Silence. A cool breeze slipped through the crack.

She slid out and closed the door gently. This time, no sound.

Unlike the suffocating temple, the courtyard was alive with crickets and rustling grass. The wind brushed her back. She exhaled shakily.

“Ha…”

Her body trembled.

“Was the walk that frightening? You’re shaking.”

The voice drifted across the wind.

At last, after a week, he appeared. She turned, releasing the doorknob.

The moon shone bright. Five meters away, Actarachion’s dark hair gleamed faintly silver, his skin pale in the light. Tonight, he wore not black, but deep navy.

So he truly doesn’t intend to wear priestly robes again.

Not surprising. A man who broke rules so easily would never be bound by them.

Suppressing her irritation, Sian asked, “Why always midnight?”

“It’s my favorite time of day.”

His black eyes, perfect for the night, rested on her.

“Come.”

He turned toward the dense forest, as if he knew she’d follow. His strides were long, his pace steady.

She hurried after him, seemingly neglected grass snagging her ankles, stealing her strength and doubling her effort. Her frail body soon struggled for breath.

“C-Could you slow down a little?” she panted.

He ignored her until, at last, he stopped. Not for her, but because they had arrived.

A vast lake shimmered, reflecting moonlight, its surface gleaming as though lit from within.

Sian brushed the grass from her legs and stared. The sight stole her breath.

The lake was white and opaque, like molten silver poured into a basin. No ripples disturbed its surface. It looked solid. Then she realized why.

It was frozen.

Despite the mild autumn night, in a land where the temperature rarely fell below fifteen degrees…

“Frozen?”

“This lake isn’t made of water. Its freezing point is about fifteen degrees.”

“That’s… strange.”

“Better to call it sacred. This is the temple, after all.”

“…Indeed. As this is a holy sanctuary, even the lake is a wondrous blessing from God.”

“You’ve learned a lot in a week.”

“….”

“And you can even use formal speech now.”

His amused tone carried mockery.

Sian realized he was still interested in her. She had feared his curiosity had cooled, but perhaps not. Relief flickered.

While she thought this, he stepped onto the lake.

“That… looks dangerous. Is it safe?”

“It isn’t.”

His voice was flat. Yet he kept walking.

Not safe.

She hesitated, then forced herself to follow. The frozen surface held beneath her feet, yet felt unreal, as if she had crossed into another world. Her skin prickled with unease at the thought of being thrust into a world she shouldn’t be in.

Her legs trembled. She stared down at the dull silver surface beneath her, wondering how long it would hold her weight.

“A new game,” he said.

She snapped her head up.