Secret Love Affair between a Former Saint and a Dark Hero - Chapter 9
The palace was grand and magnificent, but to Iora, it was a strange and intimidating place.
“My lady, we’re almost there.”
“…Thank you.”
“The palace can be quite confusing. His Majesty’s quarters are located at the innermost part.”
“I see.”
Despite being fiancée to the Crown Prince, Iora did not go to the palace often. In fact, she hadn’t even set foot in the palace for any official events, making this her first formal invitation.
Her father, who she had hoped would accompany her, had simply pushed her into the palace without a word. Iora had no attendants, no knights to accompany her. She was left standing alone until a palace guard guided her to her destination.
When she turned the last corner, she saw a massive door.
“Here it is, Lady Ribandt.”
The guard’s eyes, looking back, clearly assumed she wouldn’t know the way. A fiancé and fiancée who had never visited, proof that their relationship was only a formality, a line drawn. Her face flushed red with faint shame. She felt as if the maids and servants passing by were staring at her as if she were a nobody.
It had been seventeen years since they had spoken to each other, even though they were betrothed.
“Young Lady? What are you doing?”
“Excuse me?”
Assuming her hesitation by the door was due to some kind of confusion, the man, who seemed like one of the Crown Prince’s knights, indicated toward the door.
“There are no special mechanisms. You can just open the door and enter. His Majesty has been waiting for quite some time.”
And with that, he encouraged her to go inside. Her heart raced.
“It’s…I know.”
She truly didn’t want to go in. However, ever since she had entered this world, she had never done what she truly wanted. Nothing had gone her way. She’d given up hope on the male lead, her fiancé, who hadn’t even sent her a single letter of greeting.
‘Even now, why does something ominous seem about to happen again? Ugh.’
Gulp. Swallowing hard, Iora gently pushed the heavy door and entered a luxurious room. Inside, there sat a man who resembled a painting, and their eyes met for a brief moment. For some reason, it felt as if time had stopped.
“…”
“…Oh.”
Iora knew immediately who he was.
It wasn’t because she had seen his portrait several times, nor because his face was familiar. Despite being his fiancée, they had never held hands, never danced together at a party, never made an entrance together.
Knowing full well how dishonorable that was, her father would shout at her…
‘How ugly you are, that He does not even pay attention to you!
‘Ovid von Juste Wilhelm.’
And yet she could tell. The man before her was him.
‘The…male lead of <The Saint’s Flower>.’
What was amusing was that upon seeing the prince, her heart seemed to react joyously. She had no thoughts in her head, and yet her body, the flesh and blood Iora from the novel, seemed to yearn for the man before her.
Her heart was beating so hard that she forgot her manners and just stared at him for a few seconds. “What if he hears my heartbeat?” she thought stupidly.
The man sitting in the ornate chair slowly stood up and looked at her, breaking the silence.
“It’s been a long time, Lady Ribandt. This is the first time we’re having a proper conversation, isn’t it?”
His voice was deep, cavernous, but as cold as the depths of winter. Even a child would recognize that this was not a friendly greeting. The chill in his demeanor sent a shiver down Iora’s spine.
Iora slowly bowed her head, lifting her skirt slightly with trembling hands and curtsying.
“I am Iora von Ribandt, and I am honored to meet the illustrious Little Sun. May noble and rare tranquility be your constant companion.”
She noticed the pocket watch in his hand, his impeccable attire without a single wrinkle, and the clean brown shoes. It was clear that the prince was obsessively neat.
“I imagine inviting you suddenly might have surprised you. Nevertheless, thank you for coming so promptly.”
As the prince walked towards her, they stood together in the light filtering through the window.
For a moment, forgetting time and place, Iora almost burst out in pure admiration.
He was truly beautiful. His demeanor, his touch, his grace.
‘He really is the male lead.’
Iora’s full attention was now on the man before her, forgetting everything else.
