It was a meeting promised in advance—a formal audience between the Princess and the Saintess. On the surface, it was nothing unusual. But to the Saintess, it was an opportunity. A chance to observe Ellie up close, under the guise of diplomacy.
What the Saintess still didn't understand was the Church's obsession with the princess. Why her? Why now?
As the Saintess walked through the polished halls of the palace, her steps echoed softly. Then she paused.
A young man passed by her—a striking figure with noble posture and sharp, handsome features. His steps didn't falter. He didn't bow, didn't even glance her way. Instead, he walked straight toward the princess standing at the end of the corridor.
"William, what are you doing here?" I asked, surprised.
"Just came to give you this," William said, handing her a small silver brooch shaped like a sword wrapped in laurel leaves.
"You didn't have to," she replied, gently accepting it.
Their voices were light, comfortable. The ease between them was obvious. And yet, what caught the Saintess most was something far more bitter.
He ignored her.
Like she was invisible.
Was it… jealousy?
As their conversation carried on, the Saintess's gaze sharpened. It wasn't just any man. He mattered to Ellie. That much was clear.
And in that realization, a new thought took root in her mind.
A perfect way to destroy her life.
From that day on, at every gathering, the Saintess tried to strike up small talk with William. But his responses were cold, clipped, distant. One-word answers. Averted eyes. No effort to hide his disinterest.
It infuriated her.
Until one particular gathering, when she finally shifted her tactics.
"Young Count William is quite brilliant," the Saintess said, casually sipping her tea. "I watched him closely during the hunting competition."
It was a rare compliment, and it made both Ellie and the Queen look up.
"True. He's very talented," I replied with a polite smile.
Then came the question.
"Is he betrothed to anyone?"
I blinked. Why was she asking about William?
"I think I fell for him the first time I saw him," the Saintess added, her smile serene—too serene.
I didn't know what to say. My heart suddenly raced. My throat went dry.
What is this feeling?
Before I could answer, the Queen stepped in.
"I believe it's time for you to return, Saintess. Your carriage is waiting."
The Saintess bowed gracefully and left.
Once she was gone, my mother turned to me with a knowing look. "Was she talking about William? That handsome boy who always seems to be near you?"
I laughed softly, trying to mask the tightness in my chest. "Don't worry, Mother. It's nothing."
But it wasn't nothing.
Because when I imagined William beside the Saintess, something inside me twisted. The thought made me numb.
Maybe it's just a crush, I told myself.
Yes. A harmless little crush.
Later that night…
"So, the Saintess is after William now?" Theo asked, pouring himself a drink.
"Seems like it," Selene replied. "But it doesn't add up. Why now? So long after the tournament... and why did she ask Ellie?"
Theo frowned. "We'll keep an eye on it. Is Ellie okay? I didn't see her at all today."
"She's fine," Selene said with a small smile. "Maybe she likes someone."
Theo paused mid-sip. "Who?"
The room fell quiet.
Selene watched him closely. She could already imagine what he'd do if he found out. The poor boy wouldn't survive the next sunrise.
"Forget it," she said. "Stay out of it."
Theo didn't reply. Because he couldn't. His only daughter… liking someone?
Not on his watch.
The Next Morning – Breakfast Time
The royal dining room was unusually quiet as everyone focused on their meal. The soft clinking of silverware filled the air—until Father spoke.
"I heard you like someone."
I nearly choked on my bread.
My eyes immediately flew to Mother, silently pleading. She gave me a blink and the slightest shake of her head—she didn't say anything.
"Of course not, Dad," I replied quickly, trying to sound casual.
But the damage was done. Everyone at the table had heard. The silence cracked into whispers and curious glances. By noon, the palace was buzzing like a beehive.
I threw myself into training, needing the distraction. My mind was a storm: Do I really like him? What if I tell Father? Will he kill him? What would my brothers say? No—I can't even imagine that.
Should I ask Mom for help?
Maybe. But before that, I needed to be sure of what I felt.
And so, I began seeing William more often—training together, walking the halls, crossing paths at odd times. Slowly, I noticed he was always nearby. Close, constant.
It was one of those afternoons when the sky suddenly broke into a downpour. I was in the middle of training, and before I could run for shelter, I was already soaked.
Just as I turned to sprint, something warm landed over my head—a coat.
"Take this, Princess, or you'll catch a cold," William said.