Chapter 0

Hinoue Reina. Eighteen years old.

 

She was an ordinary student you could find anywhere, attending a private college-preparatory school with school rules so strict that she didn’t dye her hair. It was straight by nature and fell to just below her shoulder blades.

 

Her friends envied that perfectly straight hair, but to her it was nothing but a source of trouble. It was so stiff it might as well have been made of shape-memory alloy—refusing to accept any hairstyle other than being worn down. Even when she fixed it with store-bought hair spray, by the time she left home and reached the station, it had already returned to its usual straight state.

 

Her eyes were large and double-lidded, bright and clear. Her skin, protected by little more than sunscreen, was naturally beautiful for her age. Provided she sat quietly, Reina was the kind of girl whom ten out of ten people would call beautiful—a genuine beauty with a refined, demure look that seemed as though she’d suit traditional Japanese clothing perfectly.

 

Her family consisted of four: her father, her mother, and a younger brother. Her father was a company employee; her mother worked part-time at a nearby supermarket. Her brother, three years her junior, was an exam candidate, yet spent all his time playing despite being at an age where he really needed to start thinking seriously about his future. Lately, their mother had been genuinely debating whether she should force him to attend cram school.

 

The family got along well. There were no particular problems.

 

Reina herself was an excellent student, always ranking within the top five. She wasn’t being bullied, and she lived a truly peaceful life.

 

Her days were a little boring, but not boring enough to make her want to do anything special.

 

She would probably advance to a higher school, enter society, and live an ordinary life.

 

That vague, commonplace future—that was the kind of life Hinoue Reina thought hers would be like.

 

— At least, until about a year ago.

 

The reason all of this must be spoken of in the past tense is, unfortunately, unavoidable. For Reina’s current circumstances were anything but ordinary.

 

Her present occupation is—of all things—a Saintess.

 

A Saintess.

 

A miraculous being who can wield any magic through an overflowing supply of mana. A one-of-a-kind existence that appears only through summoning from another world, capable of erasing the miasma that spreads throughout the land—a poisonous force that drains the life from all living creatures.

 

An outsider from another world, holding a status equal even to that of a king.

 

The world’s blessing. The world’s savior.

 

Reina, who was supposed to be nothing more than an ordinary student, unluckily was chosen and summoned to become such a thing.

 

***

 

‘You’ve got to be kidding—how did things end up like this?!’

 

It had been nearly a year since Reina was suddenly abducted— or “summoned,” they called it—from her after-school classroom and made into a Saintess. She had somehow managed to complete the journey to purge the grotesque, ominous miasma that didn’t exist in her original world. All that remained now was to wait for the full moon one week from now, when she could finally return home.

 

And yet, Reina was in complete turmoil.

 

At the moment, she stood in front of the office of Crown Prince Christopher, on the third floor of the Radish Palace in the royal capital of the Kingdom of Raidhaunsent.

 

With time on her hands, Reina had been wandering aimlessly around the palace under the pretense of taking a walk—when a voice she overheard by chance made her doubt her own ears.

 

“…You’re certain of this?”

 

“…Yes. As you can see, I took Saintess Reina’s virginity, and—. —Of course, in accordance with the law, I will take responsibility and marry Reina…”

 

“—…Very well. Then this—”

 

‘Huh? Me and Chris… getting married?!’

 

She hadn’t caught every word, but there was no mistaking what was being said on the other side of the door.

 

Panicking at the outrageous words, Reina hurriedly pressed her ear against the door.

 

The voices belonged to the master of the room—Chris, Crown Prince Christopher—and judging by the tone, probably the king as well.

 

She strained to hear more, but the conversation seemed to have ended. The two had begun chatting casually.

 

Even so, that brief exchange alone was more than enough to set off alarm bells in Reina’s head.

 

Because the disturbingly blunt talk about her “virginity” would have been fine if it were a joke or a lie—but tragically, it wasn’t. She remembered it all too well.

 

The night the miasma-purging duty ended. Under the guise of celebration, Reina had deliberately gotten Chris so drunk he could barely stand—and with clear intent, she had crossed the line with him.

 

Chris, whom she had foolishly fallen in love with during the journey.

 

But he was someone whose world, position—everything—was far too different from hers.

 

He was the next king, and already had a sweet, adorable fiancée. A man with no openings at all. Reina never dared to wish to become his lover; such a desire was far beyond her station.

 

There was only one thing she wanted.

 

Just once, before returning to Japan, she wanted a memory. If she could have that, she would go home quietly afterward—she had prayed for nothing more than that.

 

She felt sorry for Chris’s fiancée, but returning home with nothing at all was something she couldn’t bear. So Reina made her choice. Unable to seduce a sober Chris, she relied on alcohol, swept him along on impulse, and dragged him into the bedroom. The pain of her first time had been harsh—but it was outweighed by happiness. She’d thought, ‘Ah, now I can return to Japan with no regrets at all.’

 

And yet.

 

The next day, Chris said nothing about what had happened.

 

He treated Reina exactly the same as always. Despite having devoured her—her very first time—over and over the night before, he didn’t let it show in the slightest. Honestly, it was a relief.

 

‘Getting him drunk really was the right choice.’

 

She convinced herself—far too conveniently—that he must not remember a thing. That he’d been so drunk he’d lost his memory.

 

And this was the result.

 

Careful not to make a sound, Reina slipped away from the door and began walking toward the exit of the palace, wearing an expression as though nothing were wrong. She felt like running, but she knew the maids would frown upon it, so she restrained herself.

 

The palace—sparkling like some foreign castle she’d once seen in her school library—was something a commoner like Reina never quite grew used to. Looking up, the ceiling was covered entirely in beautiful religious paintings; the first time she’d seen them, the sheer presence had left her frozen in place. Luxurious carpets woven with gold thread stretched down the halls, flanked by dazzling candelabras and statues, with exquisite paintings lining the walls. Thanks to the daily care of the maids and attendants, there wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere—it felt like walking through a museum.

 

As she hurried through the vast palace with desperate resolve, a familiar knight called out to her in a friendly manner.

 

“Oh? Lady Reina, are you heading out?”

 

“Y-yes. That’s right.”

 

She nodded, carefully keeping her voice at its usual tone. The knight smiled, seemingly unconcerned.

 

“Please be careful. Though, I can’t imagine there’s anyone in this country who could pose a threat to you. After all, Lady Reina, you are the strongest Saintess in history.”

 

His voice was filled with praise and near-reverence.

 

Between her status as a Saintess, the fact that she had purged the miasma, and the sheer amount of magical power said to surpass all previous Saintesses, Reina had earned the devotion of many within the kingdom. This knight was one of them.

 

“Thank you. I’ll be careful.”

 

Not wanting to prolong the conversation, she accepted his words and parted ways with him. ‘That went smoothly,’ she thought, letting out a quiet sigh of relief. After several similar exchanges, she finally made it outside the palace.

 

She looked up at the Radish Palace. With conflicted feelings, her gaze drifted to where Chris was likely to be.

 

‘Instead of saying something stupid like marrying me, you should just hurry up and marry your fiancée.’

 

She didn’t belong to this world. She was an outsider.

 

An outsider marrying a crown prince was ridiculous. Outsiders should act like outsiders—and return promptly to where they came from. That was what Reina believed.

 

‘It was just one night. You could think of it as a bug bite and forget it. Why do you remember? You don’t need to take responsibility.’

 

In just one week, Reina would be gone. And she would never set foot in this land again. She was a temporary existence—nothing more.

 

“Ughhh… right. Chris is surprisingly serious, after all…”

 

Reina raked her fingers through her hair in frustration. Her silky black hair, like that of a Japanese doll, returned to its beautiful flow no matter how roughly she treated it.

 

Chris—Crown Prince Christopher.

 

The man she loved.

 

Always gentle, always smiling, constantly offering sweet words that made her almost mistake them for affection if she let her guard down—even so, when it came to his actions, he was astonishingly earnest.

 

Worthy of being the next king, he cared for the people and always thought of the country’s future. Because he was that kind of man, she was sure he intended to take responsibility for what happened between them, even if it had been driven by alcohol.

 

‘No. I can’t accept that.’

 

No matter how much she loved him, she refused.

 

Why should she be married out of “responsibility”? Especially when, in this case, the one at fault was Reina herself. It would look as though she had orchestrated everything just to make him marry her.

 

If even Reina herself could see it that way, it was obvious how others would interpret it.

 

She recalled the girl she’d seen a few times—the crown prince’s fiancée. A duke’s daughter, a year older than Reina. They’d never spoken, but she seemed like the quiet, unassertive type.

 

Still, Reina knew. She had seen Chris sometimes hide away to read letters sent from the capital. Those had surely been from his fiancée.

 

“I’m sorry,” Reina thought from the bottom of her heart.

 

She had never intended for things to become this serious. She’d planned to take her memory and quietly disappear. For a moment, she felt the urge to go apologize directly to the fiancée—but she gave up.

 

There was something she had to do first.

 

“Alright. For now… I’ll run.”

 

If she stayed in the palace, things really would move toward marriage. To avoid that—and to prove that she had no intention of marrying Chris—she couldn’t remain here. Besides, she would soon be returning to Japan. By any reasonable standard, marriage was impossible.

 

‘One week until I return to Japan…’

 

The condition for returning was simple: on the first full moon after the miasma had been purged, the Saintess herself had to pray. There was no requirement to be in a specific place like a temple or the palace.

 

In that case, why not spend the next seven days traveling somewhere, and then return as soon as the time came?

 

It felt a little heartless to leave behind the people who had taken care of her—but they were the ones who had summoned her, someone with no connection to this world, and used her as a Saintess. Surely she was allowed to decide the timing of her departure.

 

“Alright. That’s what I’ll do.”

 

She would at least send a letter later by magic, making it clear that she had left of her own will. Otherwise, it would cause an uproar.

 

Once she settled on a course of action, it felt as though a weight had lifted from her shoulders.

 

First, she’d head into the capital, and then—

 

“Yeah. A journey with no destination might not be so bad.”

 

She had traveled for a year, but always with a mission imposed on her. Not once had it been something she truly wanted.

 

That’s right. For this one week, she would take her time and reflect on the past year.

 

And when the time came—she would go home, to where her family was waiting.

 

Having made that decision, Reina murmured softly, “I’m sorry, Chris.”

 

The prince from another world, who had always been kind to her.

 

Because she had wanted a memory, things had turned out like this.

 

“You don’t need to take responsibility. I’m going home. You should marry properly, as a prince should, and become a great king.”

 

That was his duty—having been born a crown prince. Chris would surely become a good king.

 

Sadly, Reina would never see him as king.

 

Even so—

 

“I’ll pray for your happiness, from afar.”

 

Cutting away the small lingering regret in her heart, Reina disappeared into the crowds of the royal capital.