The Amber Knight Swears His Love on the Saintess’s Left Hand - Chapter 15

To call this a sanctuary, the air was far too stagnant.

Unlike the airy, open atmosphere of the Langbart estate, this place felt heavy, possessing a presence that clung to the skin like something oily.

Lynette was the only one who could feel it.

“Welcome back, Lady Saint.”

The sanctuary officials bowed as she passed. The sight of grown men humbling themselves before an eighteen-year-old girl was, by any normal standard, something that would be classified as unpleasant.

Right, wrong, appropriate, unfitting.

Drawing upon eighteen years of experience and the lingering traces of the person she had been until sixteen, she pulled these threads together and rewove them to determine the proper attitude for the moment.

“Please, do not be so formal. I am no longer the Saint.”

The official returned a serene smile.

He was likely satisfied with the “correct” reaction Lynette had produced. It was almost laughable that he felt no unease seeing a Saint who was supposed to have no emotions. Behave with such practiced grace.

Even without emotions, living wasn’t particularly difficult. It was the same as a masquerade ball, full of probing glances and hidden intentions. Though, for Lynette, she had only ever attended such a ball once.

＊　＊　＊

The night of her debut, shortly after she turned sixteen.

As Lynette stood alone on a balcony, a dazzling light detached from the star-studded sky fell into her chest.

It was not a star, of course; it had neither a solid shape nor heat.

The light fell between her collarbones, about three fingers down, and vanished as if melted by her body heat. A sharp, stinging pain followed immediately, and a bruise-like mark in the shape of a petal surfaced on her skin.

In the distant Aschefallen Mountains, the magical beasts let out howls of jubilation. For some reason, those cries reached all the way to the capital of Eiklant. It wasn’t until much later that she realized she was the only one who could hear them.

Startled by the howling, she looked around to find herself surrounded by people. The House of Ceryes was a noble family in name only, having long been ousted from the center of power. Even for a debutante, she shouldn’t have commanded this much attention.

She panicked, wondering if she had committed some social blunder. But the people surrounding her were all smiling.

Then, someone spoke.

“Congratulations, Lady Saint.”

With those words as the trigger, everyone began to praise Lynette as the Saint.

She understood then what had happened to her. Looking for someone to cling to, she scanned the sea of smiling faces and found her uncle.

Her uncle wore a dark, predatory grin, blinded by the sudden opportunity. She realized then that his becoming her guardian after her parents’ death had been for this very moment. This man intended to use the Saint as a stepping stone to return to the Royal Court.

Instantly, her fingertips began to tremble, and her warmth drained away. The scream of “Why me?” that wanted to burst from her throat was overwhelmed by the cheers and never became a sound.

As if pushed by the crowd, she pressed her back against the glass doors of the balcony.

Looking at her reflection in the glass, Lynette was aghast. The hair and eyes she had inherited from her late parents. The “star” had stolen them from her.

A stranger with blue eyes and shimmering silver-blonde hair stared back at the pitiable Lynette from within the glass.

＊　＊　＊

The Chamber of the Holy Sword was cold, as it always was. This place alone was an eternal winter, sequestered from the spring. The Saint’s vestments were made of thin fabric, and the contrast with the outside world made her shiver.

She removed her shoes and stepped onto the cold floor.

With every step Lynette took, the voices of jubilation grew louder. The sounds resembled the animalistic howls she had heard that night at the ball, gradually morphing into human words.

The Holy Sword was calling. Sensing the Saint’s return, it wailed for its sacrifice.

『Welcome back. My bride.』

A “bride” ought to be a more blessed existence. Lynette gave no answer and headed straight for the couch nearby.

She climbed onto the bed clumsily and lay on her back. She undid two buttons at her chest to make breathing easier, then closed her eyes.

A crawling, shivering sensation began to touch her from her toes up. She knew that if she opened her eyes, there would be no one there. And yet, on the first day she had been brought here, she had been so confused that she had screamed until her throat was raw.

One can get used to anything if given two years.

The dark-red stone embedded in the center of the Holy Sword’s crossguard glowed dimly. Even with her eyelids closed, the light forced its way in, and she opened her eyes slightly.

That stone resembled the eyes of Quill Langbart. That alone was her only comfort.

She let out a breath and endured. Though nothing was actually touching her, her mind was being dominated and her body laid bare. This inexplicable sensation, no matter how many emotions she lost, her body continued to respond.

The phantom crawling over her skin moved up her legs, stroking her thighs. Simultaneously, it traced her cheek and followed her neckline down.

The Mark of the Saint etched upon her chest burned like fire.

She gritted her teeth tightly, enduring the violation. She simply counted the seconds.

If she counted to three, the displeasure would vanish. The next displeasure waiting beyond that would also vanish if she counted to three. Erase it, erase it. Erasing the succession of unpleasantness that attacked her.

In this way, Lynette erased her emotions.

Joy. The heart-fluttering excitement of fun. The anger that served as the engine to resist this absurdity. The tears intended to preserve and wash clean the soul.

She could not understand the minds of people who praised something so defiled as a “Saint.”

As she heard the gasps that spilled from her lips no matter how much she tried to kill them, Lynette ridiculed herself. This expression… it was what befitted this place now.

『I would prefer that to you making a smile for social convenience.』

A voice suddenly flashed through her mind, and she opened both eyes.

Toward the dark-red stone, Lynette raised her right hand as if in supplication.