Chapter 35 · Resentment and Hatred

After that ill-fated incident, Paeon knocked on the door of the next room once every hour, but the only answer that came back was a firm refusal.

“You’we going to abandon Asha again!”

Unable to sleep even a wink in the dark room, he kept chewing over that one sentence Anastasia had hurled at him with eyes full of betrayal. The word ‘again’ bothered him terribly. On the one hand, he thought it was for the best. It was a beating he had to take sooner or later anyway. Now that she had grown cold toward him, she would forget him quickly even after he left.

It was just too soon. Her condition, which had improved considerably, had worsened due to Alter’s interference. Because of the mana that man had maliciously injected into her, the wariness between the mana and prana inside her had grown even stronger.

The three priestesses were in a great predicament. Their divine power was not as strong as Paeon’s, so they lacked the ability to quickly soothe the pain that suddenly came over Anastasia. At the very least, it took two of them holding the princess and pouring out all their strength to barely pull her back from the brink.

Anastasia felt terribly sorry toward them, yet even so, she did not break her stubbornness. She wouldn’t tell them why she was rejecting him, and sometimes she would sit blankly and shed silent tears. The sight was so pitiful that the three priestesses couldn’t bring themselves to pry, and simply clutched their chests in distress.

“Sir Parsiel, what on earth did you do to the princess?”

It was incomprehensible that Anastasia—who had always been considerate of them and had never once thrown a childish tantrum—would suddenly change like this. But the blockheaded Paeon also kept his mouth firmly shut. He only bowed his head with a dark expression and repeated, “It is my fault.”

Two days passed like that, and all three priestesses ran out of prana. Unable to hold out any longer, they rushed to the next room.

“We’re on strike, a strike. We can’t do this anymore!”

“Sir Parsiel, you really are something. To think you’ve been doing this all day, every day. The prana consumption is enormous. I feel like I’ve poured out almost all the blood in my body.”

Rosa said weakly, clutching her dizzy head.

“Exactly. So this is why not a single line of record remains in history about people with two powers. I realize anew that if Sir Parsiel hadn’t been here, the princess’s life would have been in danger.”

Paeon remained silent, standing like a statue.

“Now won’t you please tell us the reason?”

“…”

“You have to tell us so we can find some way to fix it!”

After fiddling with his fingers without a word for a long while, he finally confessed what had happened.

“What?! A resignation letter?”

“Good heavens, what kind of insane thought is that?”

They were all dumbfounded at first, then soon huffed and scolded him.

“How shocked must the princess have been.”

“It must have looked exactly like you were leaving because you were tired of her.”

Sierra looked at him with a pitiful gaze, then suddenly realized that if it was Paeon, he really might do such a thing, and shouted.

“Surely you’re not really going to do it? If not, what reason would Sir Parsiel have to leave Veritas?”

“It’s not because of the princess. It’s a personal… matter.”

He said reluctantly, as if making an excuse.

“A personal matter? Do you think the Great Temple would let you go for a reason like that? Is the position of commander some child’s play?”

“I didn’t know Sir Parsiel could be so lacking in judgment. You’re not even a puberty-stricken boy—to toss aside your duties for something as trivial as a personal matter.”

“And you even hurt the princess on top of that!”

“Get on your knees and beg the princess’s forgiveness right now!”

“…I don’t know what to say to apologize.”

The three priestesses were exasperated. Well, it seemed he had never apologized to anyone in his life.

“We can’t spoon-feed you that much. Just go in. Once you see the princess’s face, the apology will come out on its own.”

They pushed Paeon into the room where Anastasia was. But she wasn’t on the bed. She had rolled off the bed while writhing in pain and was curled up in a corner of the room, sobbing.

“Princess!”

Rosa dashed to Anastasia.

“Princess, it’s all right now. Sir Parsiel is here.”

At that, she raised her head sharply and looked at them. Her eyes were so swollen from crying. The moment she saw Paeon’s face, she flared up.

“Get out!”

Paeon flinched at her fierce voice as if he had been struck by a whip.

“I said don’t wet him in! I hate you, sistews! Send him out wight now!”

When he looked at the three priestesses helplessly, they mouthed, ‘Beg her! Apologize!’ with exasperated faces. Paeon hesitated, then cautiously approached her and held out his hand.

“I apologize, Princess.”

But she gritted her teeth and glared at him, then violently slapped away the hand held out to her.

“Asha doesn’t need the Commanda. I said I don’t need you!”

Even as her whole body trembled with pain, she pushed him away unconditionally, as if his touch hurt her even more. At the title ‘Commander’ instead of ‘Papa,’ his heart felt as if it were being torn into a thousand pieces.

“I-I apologize, Princess. I was wrong.”

“What did you do wong?”

At Anastasia’s sharp voice, he was at a loss for words.

“That is… I wasn’t trying to abandon the princess. That resignation letter was… something I intended to submit once the princess was completely well.”

The three priestesses were aghast and pressed their foreheads. They had never imagined he would say such a thing.

“You’we cawwing that an excuse now? Eithew way, it means you’we weaving!”

Cold sweat was beaded on her furrowed brow. She was enduring it superhumanly, but he could guess how painful it must be. In the end, Paeon squeezed his eyes shut and suppressed her with divine power.

“Aaaagh! I said I don’t need it! Go away! Go away!”

Ignoring her violent kicking, he held her tightly. She glared at him with venom. Seeing those green eyes filled with deep resentment, his heart sank.

‘What would happen if she were to learn that I am her biological father?’

Just imagining it made him dizzy. He would never be forgiven. Resentment was nothing compared to hatred.

Paeon recalled the ball from a few days ago. The label of bastard, heavier than chains, hung on his daughter. The contempt that had always been directed at him was directed at her. Yet she had bravely pushed through that contempt.

‘But if she learns that she received such treatment because of me.’

She too would come to despise him. That alone, he felt he could not bear. He would want to flee from this world, even if it meant committing the sin of throwing away the life God had given him.

“I apologize.”

He held her tightly in his arms and repeated those words like a parrot in a cracked voice.

“…I apologize.”

But Anastasia only lowered her eyes coldly and stared at the floor, giving no answer.

◇ ◆ ◇

The grand mansion of the Alter family.

In the garden filled with the fragrance of spring flowers in full bloom, gentlemen and ladies gathered in small groups, enjoying a garden party. Alter had invited several nobles to apologize for the regrettable end to his betrothal ceremony due to an unexpected incident—or so he called it, while gossiping together.

“Count Alter, what a shame. You must have been looking forward to the betrothal.”

“I am also sorry to have shown you such an ugly scene.”

He sighed with a regretful face.

“What do you have to apologize for, Count Alter? The fault lies with that ruffian.”

Baron Drake said with a frown.

“Come to think of it, did you receive an apology from Sir Parsiel? Though it’s not something an apology could settle.”

“Well… due to Princess Anastasia’s health issues, he is refusing even the royal family’s summons.”

“Then Princess Anastasia really does have an incurable disease.”

“And the temple concealed it because of the succession rights!”

Count Caesar slammed his teacup down on the table so hard that the white tablecloth was stained.

“Ha! What an astounding lot. How can a patient with an incurable disease inherit the throne?”

“They must be unable to admit the oracle was wrong. A ‘child of God’ with an incurable disease—even a passing dog would laugh.”

“The oracle must have been fabricated anyway, so what nonsense. ‘Hoist with his own petard’ is exactly this situation.”

The content of the conversation was full of anger, but their faces wore smiles. To have the temple’s prestige fall to rock bottom like this without lifting a finger—it was the most enjoyable thing that had happened recently.

“By the way, do you still intend to adopt her? A bastard, and now an incurable disease on top of that. I think Count Alter and Princess Aquila are truly saintly.”

“Of course. It gives me all the more reason to cherish her.”

“Truly, I see Count Alter in a new light after this. I didn’t know you were such a loving person.”

“But I also see Sir Parsiel in a new light. How could a man of the cloth do such a thing…!”

“He has always had a self-righteous streak. Whenever things didn’t go his way, he would even talk back to his superiors.”

Alter, as if suddenly remembering, spoke in a confidential voice.

“That’s because he was a combat slave. He must have been unable to control the violence inside him.”

“Good heavens, a tuno?”

The table stirred as if they had heard something they shouldn’t have.

“Come to think of it, didn’t Baroness Roester say she enjoys watching the fighting pits?”

“Hehe, there’s nothing funnier than watching lowly creatures tear at each other, blood flying everywhere.”

Baroness Roester covered her face with her fan and cackled.

“Those hopeless bottom-feeders, clinging to each other for a single coin—it’s like watching moths to a flame.”

“Goodness, for someone from such a squalid place to be a first-class priest of the temple. If something’s wrong, it’s been wrong for a long time.”

“I wish he’d be excommunicated while we’re at it.”

Just then, a servant came running in a panic.

“Um… Master, there’s something you need to check.”

“Ah, I’ll be back in a moment.”

It was probably the nobles’ replies to the request for signatures on the adoption. He had heard that the Laselles family had urgently requested a state council meeting, so Alter had decided to put the matter on the agenda as well.

‘What business does the Laselles family have calling a state council?’

It couldn’t be anything significant. They had been picking fights with the Alter family at every turn. It was probably just more nonsense about tax increases or something equally trivial. He wanted to erase that name from Santra before long.

“What did the replies say?”

“M-Master… that is…”

The butler hesitated to answer.

“What is it?”

“That is… Eighteen families, including the Demare Marquis family, have sent replies saying they cannot sign.”

“…What?”