Secret Love Affair between a Former Saint and a Dark Hero - Chapter 13
Iora’s daily routine was simple. From the moment she opened her eyes until she went to sleep, she received education aimed at becoming a saint. There is no time for herself. She learns, she’s scolded, she learns, she’s scolded. It was like a hamster wheel.
However, what was amusing was that the most common stories she heard from the people she met were not about Iora herself, but about someone specific. It went something like this:
“Today, Miss Arcanda memorized and neatly organized the theories of structural relationships in chronological order. It’s undeniable how remarkable she is; it’s as if her mind already has been touched by the divine. But as for the young lady… It seems she’s sighing again today.”
The teacher boasted and compared the learning outcomes of the other disciple as proudly as if he were talking about his own daughter.
“They say the Emperor has invited Miss Arcanda!”
“It’s not just the Emperor. The Crown Prince also invites her every day and they even call each other by their names. And I heard there are so many gifts and letters going back and forth between them that the maidservants say they’re overwhelmed handling all of them.”
The maids who came and went told her stories she didn’t want to hear.
Sadly, things weren’t any different when she returned home. The anger and disdain in her family’s faces, especially at the dinner table, was palpable.
‘What in the world is wrong with you? Every day, it’s your foolishness that prevents your father from advancing!’
‘Don’t you dare show up at the gathering.’
‘Where do you get the nerve to pretend to know me? I never had a sibling like you.’
She hadn’t been able to sit down to a decent meal once since becoming Iora. The dishes were abundant, things she hadn’t even tasted when she was Kim Jiyeon, but she felt no joy, chewing through them as if they were mere paper.
‘I’ve heard about you so many times that it makes me feel sick, Arcanda.’
Within the bright stories hid lives filled with envy, jealousy, and agony. Iora couldn’t bear to look. Always on the receiving end of the pain, she felt like she’d crumble when she saw that radiant, sun-like heroine.
‘But I was never jealous of you, and I never wanted to be a saint.’
Arcanda’s tousled hair looked like it had been sprinkled with gold dust.
‘While I’m dying inside, you shine like a jewel.’
The girl, who had been laughing so freely, turned around. Her fair cheeks, cute nose, and those large golden eyes that sparkled like jewels finally glanced at Iora. Their eyes met.
“Oh, surprise! Ovid, since when did we have a guest?”
“Ah, Arcanda. The guest has been here since a while ago. Even before you came in. I did mention, didn’t I? Always make an appointment before visiting?”
“Yes, but why do things have to be so formal between us?”
Someone whispered in her ear. That girl is the saint. Even Iora was positive about it. She was indeed the leading lady of .
It wasn’t just because she was a pretty, doll-like girl. It was due to her bright soul and personality that couldn’t even be eclipsed by her looks. Her smile was like a sunflower, her voice was like a drop of water. Her welcoming eyes had no hesitation in calling out the Crown Prince’s name affectionately.
‘She’s probably a girl who’s always been showered with love.’
That was how <The Saint’s Flower> originally was. It was a cute and lovely novel. Regardless of any hardships or trials, that girl would swiftly overcome them, eventually proving that this world revolves around Arcanda.
‘She’s so different from me.’
Understanding Ovid’s choice, I accepted it. Choosing between that girl and me. Their gazes locked, the man laughing uncontrollably and the girl smiling apologetically and bashfully.
Kim Jiyeon never coveted the relationship between the female lead and the male lead. Yet, why does her heart feel so agitated, as if it’s breaking into pieces? Iora exhaled slowly, unconsciously leaning back as if standing before a steep cliff.
‘Sol… Yes, she looks like Sol.’
There’s an undeniable confidence in her smile—a certainty that the other person will care and love her. Her voice is bright and cheerful, and you can’t help but laugh along.
‘I was always the outsider.’
Perhaps she should leave this room now, for their sake. Feeling like a caterpillar shrinking under a bright light, Iora forced a bitter smile. It seemed like the prince had even forgotten that she was here as a guest.
“Um, perhaps…”
At that moment, Ovid and Arcanda, who had been chatting, suddenly turned their heads and looked at her. Iora froze like a statue. Forgetting even to swallow, she gazed at her own reflection in those eyes.
Her pallid complexion seemed as if she were struck with terror. On the other hand, the girl who had quickly let go of the prince’s hand and darted over, giggled and cutely scrutinized her with a mischievous glance.
“Are you Iora, by any chance…?”
“!”
“As expected! It is Iora, right? I knew it! Did you think I wouldn’t recognize you?”
