Chapter 26
In truth, not everyone had trusted the priests from the very beginning.
“They’re just humans like us—couldn’t we lie about the divine prophecies or misdeliver them?”
Prophecies weren’t something anyone could receive, and even if they did, they were often harsh, even curse-like in nature—so much so that some preferred not to receive them at all.
But what if those sacred prophecies were falsified?
The distrust ran deep. But over a long span of time, the priests had proven their innocence.
As if in reward for that earned trust, the people slowly began to accept that priests were not ordinary humans.
Their mouths speak only the truth. The prophecies they deliver are nothing but facts.
Still, there were always a few who continued to harbor doubt.
“T-the thing is… there are people outside who say things like that…”
A young novice priest, eyes brimming with tears, looked like he might burst out crying any moment.
His small shoulders trembled in sorrow.
Chris, noticing this, offered a gentle smile, as if to soothe him.
His gaze was so soft—yet, strangely…
…the novice priests found it a little frightening.
“Yes, you’re not wrong. We always must be careful. Especially when one of you eventually succeeds me as High Priest.”
At those words, the eyes of the once-silent novices lit up—but this time, with a different kind of sparkle.
The position of High Priest!
They had all gathered here with the dream of someday reaching that glorious seat.
“B-but Chris-nim, you’ve been the High Priest for over 20 years! That’s really, really amazing!”
“Yeah! We’re still just baby priests!”
High Priest Chris.
He had astonishingly deciphered his own prophecy at the age of four and, only a few years later, became the youngest High Priest ever—gaining unanimous approval.
<I will stand in the highest place>
A sacred being. A bearer of divine prophecy. The one who loves the god most dearly.
The position of High Priest was one that not even the Emperor of the Mielle Empire could dare to disgrace or remove without cause.
“So, little priest,”
The young priest who had previously said he was afraid of divine prophecy now had a flushed red face.
Embarrassed, and a little upset.
It felt as if his words had somehow insulted the High Priest or desecrated the sanctity of prophecy.
“There’s no need to make that face. Your concern and worry are valid. In fact, something like that really did happen once.”
The young priest’s head snapped up.
“W-what happened?”
“It was the year I became High Priest. Though at the time, the previous High Priest was still in place.”
Chris ’s eyes curved gently, as if lost in a distant memory.
“A child was born that year. The child’s prophecy, upon first hearing it, sounded ominous. And soon, rumors began to spread—people whispering that the child’s prophecy was cursed.”
“B-but priests aren’t supposed to go around talking about someone’s prophecy like that…”
Chris smiled calmly.
“Indeed.”
That answer chilled the room. Because what he had just said could be taken as a criticism of the former High Priest.
The young priests looked around nervously, as if startled by the weight of the conversation.
“The child’s mother grew very weak. Strange and ominous things began happening at their estate. Now, how do you think the people around them responded?”
“Uh, but…”
Chris looked at the wide-eyed young priests and nodded with a soft smile.
“Yes, in truth, there is no such thing as a bad prophecy. After all, it’s divine love. It just… doesn’t always come in the same form. But people often interpret things however they like, twisting the meaning to suit themselves. In the end, those around the child blamed all the misfortune on that poor baby. The parents loved the child—”
However he suddenly felt unhappy.
Chris paused, swallowing the weight of his words.
“And so the temple chose to bring the child here. The goal was to purify the prophecy—if there was truly a problem.”
“Th-then what happened to that child? Are they still here in the temple? Was the prophecy purified?”
No.
Chris smiled gently at the memory.
That child became a part of the temple. And one day, must be reclaimed.
“Anyway, that’s why we must be careful. People might mistakenly believe that bad things happen because of a bad prophecy.”
With a soft clap of his hands, Chris shifted the mood.
The children, momentarily gloomy, perked up and opened their eyes wide again.
“That story was a bit too serious, wasn’t it? Let’s talk about something else, shall we?”
“Um, High Priest Chris!”
It was the same eager young priest as before.
“You certainly have many questions, don’t you? Alright, what is it this time?”
“Um… is it true you’re going to the Duke of Hillington’s estate? Are you going there to personally deliver a prophecy?”
How informed these young ones are.
Chris chuckled inwardly, eyes curving with amusement.
“Yes, I’ll be visiting soon.”
And he, too, was looking forward to meeting the subject of those rumors.
‘The Temple’s treasure.’
Hildea von Hillington.
The child the previous High Priest had once tried so desperately to keep in the temple— Chris wanted to see her for himself.
And once he had confirmed it—
‘She might become the temple’s treasure once more.’
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The next morning dawned.
Despite all the preparations for the debutante ball, the house was unusually busy from early in the day.
“Ladies, wake up!”
Swish— The curtains were drawn open, and Lyra’s cheerful voice rang through the room.
I winced at the flood of sunlight and let out a groan.
Turning my head, I saw Rose, sprawled out with the blanket kicked halfway off.
Ah, right. We’d stayed up late last night chatting and eventually fell asleep together…
“Good morning, Lyra.”
The usually expressionless Lyra glanced at me once, then looked at Rose.
“Ugh, is it morning already?”
Rose yawned wide enough to tear her jaw, then slowly sat up. Her eyes were still shut tight.
I curled the corners of my lips into a small, clumsy smile.
“Hurry and get ready, ladies! There’s a lot on the schedule today!”
That’s right. I sat up, forcing myself awake, and felt my heart begin to race.
Today. At last, today—
“The High Priest is coming.”
And I would finally learn my prophecy.
After a whirlwind of grooming and preparations, I made my way downstairs to receive our guest.
‘Everyone’s already gathered.’
Father, and most of the staff I frequently saw around the estate, were there, standing together.
With a face as tense as mine, Sien pointed toward the door where they were gathered and said:
“Ladies, the High Priest is waiting in the drawing room. You’ll be going in one at a time.”
Rose and I looked at Father.
His face was rigid. He looked at me once, then at Rose.
‘Is he worried about me? Or am I just imagining it?’
I swallowed nervously, wondering if he would say something—anything. But Father didn’t speak. He simply rested a hand lightly on my shoulder, a brief gesture before pulling away.
Why…? For some reason, I felt a little disappointed.
“I’ll go first!”
As if sensing my state, Rose stepped forward with her usual cheerful voice.
I stared blankly as she winked at me and walked into the room without hesitation.
<You shall bloom gloriously>
That would surely be her prophecy. And when she hears it, Rose’s cheeks will flush with joy, just like a rose.
I wanted to celebrate with her… but my mind had gone completely blank, overwhelmed with my own dread.
What if… the rumors are true?
Suddenly, a hand touched my shoulder. I jumped and turned to look—it was Lyra, her face expressionless.
And behind her, I realized, Sien had quietly moved into place.
I blinked in confusion, unsure why they were staring at me like that. Then Lyra said gently:
“Breathe out slowly.”
Ah. Only then did I realize I had been breathing heavily. And that the other servants were watching me with troubled expressions.
I felt embarrassed. Maybe they were all thinking, “The eldest lady is so timid. How shameful.”
“S-sorry…”
“Miss Rose will be out soon. Hearing your prophecy is a nerve-wracking thing, but it’s nothing painful.”
No, Lyra.
It might hurt. It might really hurt…
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Young nobles might not know this, but all the senior aristocrats of this generation were well aware of one fact:
The relationship between Sears von Hillington and the temple was absolutely the worst.
Because the temple had once taken one of their precious children under the pretense of “purifying the prophecy,” essentially abducting them.
The Duke and Duchess of Hillington—once a legendary romance—had wept bitterly. They had poured their hearts and blood into trying to reclaim their child.
But the power of the temple was immense. There was no one who could stop them.
Then an incident occurred. The child from House Hillington, whom the temple had hidden away so tightly, was kidnapped—by actual abductors this time.
Before the temple could respond, House Hillington, who had always kept a close watch, acted swiftly.
“How can I entrust my daughter to a temple that can’t even protect a single child?”
That was the declaration of Sears von Hillington.
His reasoning was clear, and the emperor, seizing the opportunity, sided with Hillington.
“He is right. I believe Hillington’s eldest should return to her rightful place.”
Around that same time, Chris emerged as the next High Priest, and the former High Priest—regretfully—was forced to give up the child from House Hillington.
After that, the duchess, whose health had weakened, died without even having properly held the twins she had fought so hard to reclaim.
There were even rumors that her death hadn’t been from natural causes, but rather the result of someone’s foul play.
Either way, Chris had no interest in the details of the incident.
All he knew was that if something once belonged to the temple, he would eventually bring it back. And he did intend to reclaim Hildea someday.
Still, he hadn’t been on good terms with the previous High Priest, and he had more important goals for the time being. Today’s visit was simply to assess things.
A perfect opportunity, really.
“Hello, High Priest!”
Chris snapped out of his thoughts and turned his gaze to the young woman who had confidently entered the room.
Her wide, radiant smile was refreshingly charming.
She left a strong impression—like someone who could instantly win over everyone she met.
“You may call me Chris, Lady Rosériel.”
“Oh? You know my name?”
Chris narrowed his eyes slightly as he looked at the young woman standing before him.
A girl, really—so youthful she hardly seemed of age.
Her distinctly vivid pink hair stood out.
‘The second daughter.’
She matched the rumors fairly well.
Hildea, the elder twin, was said to have a quiet and gloomy disposition, often alone.
Rosériel, the younger, was bright and cheerful, constantly surrounded by people. People said she was lively, sunny—and perhaps a little thoughtless because of it.
‘So the rumors aren’t entirely accurate.’
Most people would lower their guard and open their hearts in response to his warm, smiling eyes.
But not this girl.
“Please tell me my prophecy.”
She extended her hand with confidence—an unusual gesture.
No one had ever shown such a demeanor when receiving their prophecy.
Just as Chris found the moment rather amusing—
“Hm?”
—he suddenly stiffened. A strange sense of wrongness radiated from Roseriel.
