Secret Love Affair between a Former Saint and a Dark Hero - Chapter 14
Startled by the sudden clapping in front of her, Iora was taken aback. The giggling girl greeted her with a wide grin and an excited voice.
“Hi! I’m Arcanda. It’s our first time having a conversation. Nice to meet you, Iora! I’ve really missed you. We’re the only two saint candidates, you know! I thought we could be good friends. Our birthdays are the same too. Isn’t this an extraordinary connection?”
Arcanda extended a fair hand out to her. Her face is so clear that it’s impossible to imagine her refusing that touch. Iora’s breathing slowed. She couldn’t fathom why she was being addressed with such a cheerful voice.
“Ah, I’ve wanted to meet you for a while now, but I’ve never got the chance to due to our different class times. And I can’t just waltz up to the Marquis of Ribandt.”
That’s because Iora had always tried to avoid her.
“Iora, did I startle you by being too loud? Or did I upset you by coming in suddenly?”
“It’s just that…” Words failed her.
The girl sighed heavily, rolling her eyes and whispered in a shy voice. “Sorry, sorry! I’m usually close with Ovid, so I didn’t think anyone would be here. It seemed too early for guests.”
Ovid had fallen silent and was observing them, while the unsuspecting Arcanda, who couldn’t imagine any apprehension, began chatting brightly.
Cold sweat trickled down. Iora wanted to escape immediately.
“But what’s going on here? No, wait. Ovid! You know how much I wanted to meet Iora. Why did you secretly meet her alone? What kind of friend are you?”
“She’s a duly invited guest.”
“No, of course she is! Is there much business left?”
“…I’m sure it’s all been concluded, right, Miss?”
The matter that was concluded was the annulment with Iora.
Meeting Ovid’s intense gaze, Iora suddenly stood up from her seat. Suppressing the sharp emotions brewing within her, clenching her fists tightly, a moment of silence lingered in the room.
“Iora?”
“Your Highness.”
“…”
After staring at the blonde girl, who seemed to have widened her eyes in surprise, Iora turned towards Prince Ovid and spoke.
“If everything is concluded, Your Highness.”
Her voice was dry. His face flushed bright red.
Feeling hurt by appearing foolish till the end, her pride was wounded, and her insides were aching. At this rate, she might collapse in embarrassment and shed tears. And if that rumor spread, she would face her father’s wrath again and be confined to her room.
“I shall take my leave…then. If there are further discussions…”
“Wait a moment, Miss.”
“It might be better to convey through Father. As Your Highness is aware…”
“Iora, wait.”
“I have no authority. If the family dictates… I must follow.”
“That’s not it. In case, my lady, if today’s conversation…”
“I will withdraw, sir. May your afternoon be one in which noble honor rests upon your eyelids like a shadow..”
Iora turned decisively. Ignoring Arcanda calling her name and Ovid’s hesitant steps, she forcefully pushed open the door. The knight who was waiting outside beckoned to her, but she ignored him as well.
‘You can’t do anything right.’
Her one and only brother would probably look down like garbage. Maybe he’d coldly scorn her for tarnishing their family’s dignity.
‘What on earth were you thinking! I specifically warned you not to upset the prince’s feelings!’
Father’s reaction was predictable even without seeing him. His anger would erupt like fire as he unleashed his disapproval. The mere sound of his voice would make her heart pound, and she’d break into a cold sweat, frozen in place.
And she’d probably cry like a fool without even being able to argue back or retaliate.
‘…Go to your room; I don’t want to look at you.’
Mother would likely turn away as well.
She knew that if she went back, it would be the most painful thing she would ever experience.
‘I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. Please, please, stop tormenting me. Stop it!’
Shaking her head as if to get away from it all, Iora broke into a run, and when she stopped, gasping for breath, she realized she was standing in an unfamiliar place.
She gasped for air. The tears that had soaked her cheeks were now chillingly cold.
“Where… where am I?”
It was a garden that felt deserted. Despite its neglect, there was a sophisticated elegance from past maintenance, suggesting it had been cared for a long time ago.
A faded angel statue was placed in the center of a dry fountain, and the dense trees around gave the illusion the place was in the middle of a forest.
Chirping birdsong echoed in the air, and a shady breeze cooled Iora’s face as she looked up.
“…Sniff.”
Tears welled up in her eyes as soon as she realized she was alone. This wasn’t the mansion, and it didn’t matter where she was or how she was going to get back, or that her father might be waiting for her.
Iora approached a nearby large tree and buried her face in it. Its prickly and cold texture pressed against her forehead. She thought she might as well just die.
“Sob…!”
Her stifled cry soon became a wail. She sobbed and sobbed until her throat hurt, until she was dehydrated.
She cried until the sky, once so blue, started to take on the hue of dusk. Her wails subsided into hiccups, her face flushed from crying.
“Hey, have you cried enough now?”
“…!”
A strange voice echoed above her.
