Chapter 295

Volume 2 Ch 35: The Princess from a Fairy Tale

Ryan’s ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍gaze returned to the girl before him, and a curious feeling suddenly passed through his heart.

Surrounded ‍​‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍by the hazy moonlight and the faint fragrance of flowers and grass, with those utterly trusting little creatures gathered around her, she looked less like a high-ranking holy maiden and more like a pure young doe that had accidentally wandered into the imperial court, innocent and untouched by the world. Her eyes were clear, her bearing natural, and though she stood in subtle contrast to the meticulously sculpted splendor around her, the contrast somehow felt perfectly harmonious.

The ‍​‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍thought drew a quiet laugh from him before he could stop it.

“Hm?” ‍​‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍Hearing it, Alicia lifted her head. A trace of confusion showed in her rose-red eyes as she looked at him.

Ryan ‍​‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍paused slightly, only then realizing that he had let his feelings show without meaning to.

Perhaps ‍​‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍the garden was too peaceful. Or perhaps the warm, harmless aura surrounding her, the kind that could calm agitation itself, was having its effect. It had given his constantly taut nerves a brief moment of rest, and in that rest, he had lowered his guard a little. For him, that was exceedingly rare.

“My apologies,” he said, quickly withdrawing that stray smile and restoring his calm tone. “It was only that, just now, you reminded me of the princesses in fairy tales, the kind who can speak with living creatures. The scene felt very peaceful.”

At praise that was not quite flattery, Alicia blinked first, and then a delicate pink, like the first bloom of a rose, quietly spread across her cheeks.

As the Saintess of the Church, she had heard every kind of compliment and long since learned to accept them with calm grace.

But the sudden shyness she felt now perhaps came more from the guilty awareness that her earlier absent-minded staring at his moonlit profile had, in a way, been inadvertently exposed. Naturally, she intended to keep that small secret buried firmly in her heart.

To cover that fleeting embarrassment, she instinctively shifted her attention back to Ryan’s face and looked at him more closely this time.

The moonlight outlined the clear lines of his profile, and when her gaze slid across that head of silver hair, as though woven from condensed moonlight, a forgotten corner of her memory suddenly lit up.

Silver hair… gray-blue eyes… Ryan Velt!

So it was him.

The imperial hero whose name had been spreading everywhere lately, the true centerpiece of tonight’s grand banquet, and the young man she had once encountered briefly during a healing session.

She had been too far away during the ceremony earlier to clearly see the faces of those receiving honors. And afterward, in the banquet hall, she had simply remained quietly in her place, never making any special effort to pay attention to the figure at the center of the storm.

When she attended occasions like this, it was more to fulfill her duty as the Church’s representative. She had no real interest in the glory, power, and undercurrents among the Empire’s nobility.

She merely hoped the formalities would end as quickly as possible so she could return to the relatively quiet Church residence, where she would not have to endure such dense and varied social overtures.

Even there, she would still need to maintain the bearing of the Saintess, but at least she would not have to deal with so many people smiling with hidden agendas.

Realizing his identity, Alicia unexpectedly felt a little relieved.

It seemed that he had not recognized her as the Saintess. That meant she could set down, for a little while, the burden that came with that title. She would not have to immediately put on that solemn, compassionate, untouchable demeanor.

To enjoy this stolen moment of peace in the form of an ordinary girl, perhaps even a slightly clumsy one, in the company of flowers and little animals, was already a rare comfort for her.

If he were to reveal her identity, that brief tranquility would likely vanish at once.

So she lowered her eyes as well and pretended not to have recognized him either.

A subtle balance formed between them. Each seemed to have guessed who the other was, yet both silently chose not to expose it.

Perhaps they had both realized that, at this moment, having escaped the golden cage up ahead, a place filled with power, calculation, and hollow pleasantries, all they wanted in this moonlit garden was to be themselves for a little while, even if that self was still shielded by the thinnest temporary disguise before a stranger.

Neither of them introduced themselves. They simply shared the stillness.

Ryan once again lifted his gaze to the deep night sky, while Alicia crouched down and gently combed her fingers through the white rabbit’s soft fur.

After a while, Alicia finally spoke, breaking the comfortable silence.

“I was honestly a little surprised to find someone else here. Whenever I came before, I almost never ran into anyone… so just now, I was startled too.”

At her words, Ryan withdrew his gaze from the sky and let it rest on the soft curve of her profile outlined by moonlight. When he answered, his voice too had softened.

“Yes. I didn’t expect anyone either. It was only that inside… it was all a bit suffocating. I wanted to come out and breathe.”

The words were simple, yet they carried the sense of someone setting down a little of his guard in front of a stranger.

Precisely because they did not know each other, and because each understood that this fleeting encounter would most likely have no real effect on the other’s true life, it became easier to speak a feeling that was both genuine and harmless.

It was like whispering to a hollow tree, or confiding in running water, without needing to worry about consequences.

Alicia understood that unspoken resonance. A trace of understanding flickered through her rose-red eyes, and she gave a quiet “Mm,” without asking anything more. She only continued stroking the little animals more gently than before.

The moonlight flowed in silence, and the garden held only the sound of wind brushing through leaves and the occasional tiny noises made by the creatures at their feet.

Two young people wearing different masks and bearing different burdens shared, in this stolen quiet, a brief rest that needed neither pretense nor intimacy.

It was as though they shared some tiny secret that did not need to be spoken, and beneath the tranquil moonlight, the distance between them quietly dissolved a little more.

Since, for the moment, neither of them needed to be the Saintess or the hero, and since they were simply two strangers who had happened upon one another and both needed a chance to breathe, conversation began to flow naturally.

Alicia seemed to relax. Crouching down, she extended a finger toward a small chipmunk standing on its hind legs and gazing at them curiously. Her voice was soft as a whisper.

“Would you like to meet them? This is Speckles. He’s the most timid, but also the most curious.”

Then she pointed to the white rabbit curled carefully against the hem of her skirt.

“This is Snowball. He’s the greediest one. He always finds the berries I hide first.”

Then there was the blue-feathered little bird perched on her shoulder, its head tilted as it looked at them.

“And this is Bluefeather. He sings the prettiest.”

She introduced her little friends as though reciting the names of treasured companions, her expression gentle enough to melt the night itself.

The small creatures she named responded in kind. Some rubbed themselves against her fingers. Some let out tiny chirps in answer. The bird called Bluefeather even pecked lightly at her earlobe, drawing from her a laugh as soft and bright as a bell stirred by the wind.

Ryan stood quietly to one side and watched.

He was not especially suited to scenes this soft and warm, but strangely enough, he did not find it irritating or false.

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