Chapter 9

Warm brown hair, dark green eyes. Irik was the spiritual leader of the young priests and, due to his unique unwavering faithfulness, he was the most popular high priest.

Irik was amidst the high priests who were riding horses. Such priests were the ones who fought so deathly over the matter of Philia, setting her up Philia and insulting her by saying that she was a con artist—saying that they knew she was a fake!

How much time has passed… There was not even a grain of dust left that remains of the bloody discord.

With those thoughts in mind, Irik raised his hand to the public and sent a warm smile.

At that moment, Irik’s eyes turned to Philia.

In an instant, her breath stopped. It felt as if time had stopped. If she had had a little time, she would have understood Irik. The oracle was manipulated, and a real saint appeared… How could he, as a believer, reject it?

However, when she met his gaze before her heart was even ready, there was only one emotion in her mind.

Betrayal.

A strong emotion ran through her body. Irik stopped talking and opened his mouth as if to call her. At this, Philia sprinted through the crowd with all her might.


I don’t want to meet you.

“Philia!”

She heard a voice calling her. Even though she knew that the voice was brimming with concern, she refused.

She already has no place for herself. He pretended to do everything for her, and she accepted him. After realizing it, her heart went cold.

What was she to him? What was he doing in this temple?

Philia ran and ran through the alley. She shoved people and ran through them, as she heard swearing and short screams behind her.

Philia went into the main road where the damn procession was out of sight. Standing on a deserted roadside where people eventually disappeared, she began to whimper.

‘I have been abandoned.’

She was to always think with good intentions. She was told to give everything. That was her way of thinking. But now… now… it was different. She became aware of the emotion that was strongest in her heart.

I hate it, I hate it, I can’t stand it.

And she was sad, and sad again. Why can’t she belong with them?

“Philia!”

Philia flinched with the thought of running away. But she soon came to her senses. It was Claude, not Irik, who came after her.

In that brief moment, Claude wasn’t even in her mind. She looked surprised.

“Your… Highness.”

“Why the hell did you run like that?”

“…….”

Claude’s well-groomed hair was disheveled. She could see how desperately he had pursued her. Philia trembled her lips.

“Your Highness… I’m sorry.”

“…….”

“I’m sorry for making you chase after me… and for causing such a nuisance.”

“…Let’s go back.”

Claude’s voice was soft, but there was a boiling rage in it. Philia nodded her head.

 

* * *
 

She entered the room and sat down in the chair. She shook her head as she recalled the sight she had seen. But did she really need to think about it?

Just then, the door opened and Claude entered. He came in without even hearing her answer.

Claude looked at Philia sitting blankly.

“Philia.”

“Your Highness, I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”

“…….”

“I, I’m sorry. I wasn’t very considerate. So, I was going to show you a dress, a pretty dress.”

“…….”

“Oh, there were a lot of pretty clothes. The color is so pretty. I thought dresses were one color, but they mix and match, and the capital is amazing.”

Claude grabbed Philia’s shoulder. He growled as he met her eyes. Ferocious red-brown eyes blazing.

“By apologizing mechanically like that, are you still trying to act like a saint?”

Mechanical apology. Even now, she tried to act like a saint. She didn’t know that it looked like that. Philia bit her lip.

“I, I know. Now that I’m not a saint… W-was it mechanical? It wasn’t… Sorry. I…”

“Philia!”

Claude grabbed her by the shoulder and shook her, leaving Philia with a blank expression on her face.

“I don’t want your apology, do you know why I am doing this now?”

“…….”

“You, now…”

“Are you worried about me?”

At Philia’s desperate question, Claude lifted his hand from her shoulder. Claude opened his eyes wide and looked at Philia’s face. He looked like he had been burned by something hot.

“Are you worried about me?”

Tears began to drip from Philia’s eyes. She wanted him to tell her he was worried. Please. Only then would she be able to collapse in front of him and cry.

“I’m more angry than worried.”

“…….”

“I can’t even get angry right now because I’ll look so foolish.”

Claude also became emotional when he saw the crude utterances. It’s the same as saying he’s worried. Tears were dripping from her eyes.

“That is… I’m… It’s not that I’m angry.”

“…….”

“No, I am angry, but… I do not know.”

It’s not that she’s never cried. She cried when she saw pitiful and weak things. However, it was the first time she cried while having to deal with such complex emotions swirling within her.

Claude reached out to her. The hand stroking her hair was gentle. On top of that, she began to sob, her face in tears.

“Your Highness… What am I going to do now?”

She cried and wept. Claude looked at her pitifully. Watching Philia cry, a shadow fell over his face. Slowly, the expression on his face began to disappear.

Emotionless, Claude looked down at Philia. Light blonde hair wrapped around his hands.

Perhaps the phrase ‘I’m more angry than worried’ was the best answer, she collapsed at that.


As she cried, he expected her to hold him. He wanted that. And yet, did he really want this?

Claude furrowed his eyebrows.

Actually, he did it on purpose.

Claude wanted Philia to be aware of her place.

However, she was hurt too badly. She thought of him, even when she was hurt. He thought that her automatic goodness was lovely. While thinking that she was so angry and sad, she leaned on him.

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That’s enough for him.

“Waaaahhh!”

Still, as he watched Philia cry, Claude thought that this was not what he wanted. He didn’t mean to push her this far. He didn’t know that she would be hurt like this.

This was all because Claude had learned what emotions were, but not how they were felt.

Confused, he could only embrace Philia.

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