The Saint Disappeared with Her Memories — Her Broken Engagement Decided the Kingdom’s Destiny - Chapter 15

For some time now, I’ve felt something amiss within me.

I can’t pinpoint exactly what it is or why, just a vague sensation that surfaces and fades in the depths of my mind. Something is missing. Something is wrong. But I don’t know what that “something” is.

Standing in the temple hall, I furrow my brow at the mountain of documents before me. The dim, stone-walled space should be an unchanging scene, just as it’s always been. Yet, it feels somehow alien. What I find particularly unsettling are matters concerning the Saintess, the temple’s atmosphere, and the work that’s increasingly piling up day by day.

I revere the Saintess—no, I revered her. Lady Elise is the Saintess who brings pride to the kingdom. But strangely, I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something false about that emotion. There’s a contradiction between the sensation that “I revered the Saintess” and the reality that “I do not revere the Saintess.” What does this mean? Even though these are my own feelings, I can’t understand them.

Running my fingers along the edge of the hard-wooden desk, I ponder another source of my unease: the temple’s atmosphere. Was it always this bad before? The elder sages have always been arrogant and strict with the young priests, but I don’t recall them being quite this unreasonable.

No, perhaps it’s just my imagination. The phrase “the temple from before” floats in my mind, but I don’t know what it refers to. When exactly was this “before”?

My brooding is interrupted by heavy footsteps.

“Alexis, I’m entrusting this to you as well. Please instruct the priestesses under your management.”

An elder sage with a graying beard hands me another stack of documents. Beneath his feigned gentleness, I sense his condescension toward me, a young sage.

Lately, the workload being passed to me has increased. These are tasks the Saintess should be handling, but Lady Elise has been prone to falling ill recently. It seems her mission failures have been increasing, too.

“…Understood. I’ll review these,” I reply, suppressing my emotions. Showing dissatisfaction won’t improve the situation. To protect the young priests, I must maintain this position.

“I leave it to you,” the elder sage says with a satisfied smile, then promptly leaves the room as if his work here is done. The sound of the door closing echoes.

That information also feels off. They say the Saintess has been unwell lately but I have a memory of her pushing through her duties even when she wasn’t feeling well before. I recall her insisting, “This is the Saintess’s duty,” and working hard despite mine and the young priests’ offers to take over.

But no, that couldn’t be right. Lady Elise has never shown such attitude since becoming the Saintess. So, what is this dissonance in my memory?

Facing the mountain of documents, I let out a deep sigh. I’d thought that, at the very least, the young priests’ growth would lighten this burden somewhat. Instead, the situation only worsens. Since when did this start? What triggered it? I don’t understand, and it troubles me.

Rising, I gaze out the temple window. Spring sunlight pours into the temple garden, a peaceful scene. But something beneath that peace feels wrong. Something is missing. I simply can’t figure out what.

“Lord Alexis, the Sage Council is about to begin.”

A young priestess’s voice echoes from beyond the door. Dragged back to reality, I shake my head slightly to organize my thoughts.

“Right. I’ll be there shortly.”

Her voice brings me back to myself. Yes, there’s no time to dwell on this now. For the moment, I must manage the schedules to avoid overburdening the young priests under my care. I’ll ponder this unease later.

As I tidy the documents on my desk, I organize my thoughts. I need to keep track of the elder sages’ reckless movements, too. I must protect the precious priests from being dragged into their absurd demands.

My priority is the duty before me. I mustn’t mistake what comes first.

Yes, I tell myself. But the hollow, cavernous feeling spreading in my chest refuses to fade; this sense that I’ve lost something, something important. Am I merely pretending not to realize what it is?

My steps toward the conference room are heavy. Straightening my back and striving to keep my expression neutral, I press on. Yet, in a corner of my heart, the longing for that lost something continues to burn quietly.