Secret Love Affair between a Former Saint and a Dark Hero - Chapter 27
“I, I’m… That’s not it, Mother. I was trying to be nice…”
“Trying to do what? Ha! Stupid, stupid thing. Don’t you even look in the mirror? Do you know what your face looks like these days? What confidence do you have to stick around that girl?”
“…Huh?”
Iora forgot to breathe. Perplexed, she stared as her mother’s painted red lips twist fiercely.
“The Lady of a noble family who can’t even manage her face and skin—what a disgrace! Your skin lacks any radiance, sagging as if you’re a hopeless invalid! You don’t even know how to groom yourself!”
“I, I…”
“Your features might be decent, but your appearance right now is pitiful and unattractive! How can you insist on being the prince’s betrothed and a saint in that state!”
“Ah!”
Her nails scraped against her skin to the point of reddening, and Iora’s hand instinctively flew to her cheek. Her chest tightened.
Am I that strange?
Iora never felt odd about herself because she always saw a girl with an expression of no confidence reflected in the mirror every day. She just thought she’d lost weight because her heart ached to the point of stopping.
Her mother snorted as she cupped her cheek with a trembling hand.
“That’s it, I don’t want to hear it, I don’t want to see it, I don’t want to see you acting like this, and I don’t care what you do to the family name! Keep your makeup on thick, always groom yourself, cover up your ugliness, and don’t let anyone see you! Do you understand?”
With her fierce mother gone, Iora seemed even smaller as she stood alone again. Her wavering eyes settled on the red fruits inside the basket left at the center of the dining table. It was a ripe red apple. Suddenly, tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. For some reason, she remembered the person who had taken a delicious bite out of that apple. The cathartic moment when she had cried so hard.
‘Vigros.’
A man who didn’t despise her, who didn’t need to compare her to anyone. His hand on her shoulder had been so warm—the gentle darkness that urged her not to cry.
But would there be another chance to meet? And even then, there wouldn’t be a tender conversation like that moment. He has his pride, and engaging in conversation with her would only tarnish his reputation.
Iora shook her head as she slowly stood up. She couldn’t delay any longer, even if she wanted to collapse and cry right now. It was almost time for her classes.
* * *
Thump! The ruler bounced across the desk.
Startled, Iora dropped the pen she was holding, but she calmly grasped the pen again. Trying her best not to get flustered, she made an effort to focus on where the teacher had pointed. If only the edge of the ruler hadn’t blocked her view as she was jotting down the answer.
Thump!
“Y-Yes, sir?”
“I must be losing my mind. I’ve given you a lot of attention these past few days when you seemed unwell. Don’t you realize that?”
“Oh, I understand. But did I write another wrong answer?”
However, the book clearly stated that the interpretation of ‘The Azure Interpretation’ was divided into two. Even though such a description was not written in the book they were studying, Iora, wanting to delve deeper into interpretations, found some related books and believed that the minor theories of other scholars were quite credible. She attempted to summarize her argument and evidence, but it seemed something was amiss due to the ruler blocking her view. The teacher frowned at his pupil.
“That’s not it, Iora.”
“Yes?”
“Why aren’t you reading the book I’ve given you?”
“I, I did. B-But there are books about interpretations apart from Lillian’s work, like Wilvent’s…”
“Yes! There are a few of those, but did I teach them in class?”
“Uh, no, you didn’t…”
The teacher raised their glasses and fell silent. Then, with a cold tone, they muttered while hitting the desk with the ruler, “Don’t try to do more, Iora. Just up to that point. That’s your limit. Focus only on what you’re doing right now.”
“W-Why?”
“What right does someone, who can’t even digest that properly, have to be so ambitious? It’s excessive.”
“Excessive?”
Iora couldn’t understand why she had to hear such words before even attempting something. She wasn’t sure if this was such a serious matter. Though she momentarily felt a surge of rebellion, she quickly forgot about it as she met the teacher’s icy stare.
“Don’t you have an answer, Iora?”
“I-I’m sorry.”
The teacher grimaced for a moment. Then he said, “Young lady, what you need to know is not a multiplicity of theories, nor a study that goes as deep as the scholars. Just enough for your general education. Isn’t that enough, or do you have any thoughts of joining the academy?”
“No, I don’t.”
The academy. She had never dreamed of such a thing. Rather, she hadn’t even thought about life beyond what lay ahead. Not becoming a saint, being discarded, or… perhaps… dying.
“Forget it. After you turn eighteen, I won’t be teaching you anymore, Iora. Because you won’t be a saint by then.”
It felt like a thud beneath her feet. The tip of her pen placed on the parchment trembled slightly. It wasn’t an incorrect statement. Clearly, Arcanda would ascend during the saint ceremony, and she would fall, never to set foot in this mansion again. Of course, there wouldn’t be any further meetings with the teacher responsible for the saint’s education.
“So, prepare to let go of the things you’ve been holding onto inappropriately, young lady.”
That statement was more shocking than she had anticipated. Was it because the teacher spoke in a calmer voice than usual, without showing any anger?
“Let them go, one by one. You’d better let go of the idea of trying harder, of your ambitions, and get ready for that time when you’re not a candidate for sainthood, but a common lady from the Ribandt family. Sometimes you need to know when to let go.”
“…”
Her nose wrinkled with bitterness. Though his coldly rational words might have seemed comforting at first glance, Iora couldn’t see past the pain in her heart. Moreover, theirs wasn’t such an affectionate priestly relationship.
The teacher, gazing at the time, murmured quietly, “Class is dismissed for the day, young lady.”
“…Yes, thank you, sir.”
Iora weakly placed the pen down. Even this moment was just unfounded ambition. In everyone’s eyes, all her efforts were in vain.
It felt futile.
