The Low-Ranking Civil Servant Wants to Achieve Success Chapter 116

Everywhere else was perfectly fine—only the temple collapsed. How strange.
Just hearing that the palace temple had crumbled broke my heart…

The High Priest thought bitterly, “It didn’t collapse that catastrophically.”

If I receive some divine power, maybe I’ll feel a bit better.

The excuses were endless.

She was summoning him as if he were some tailor from a boutique.

Who knows? If I speak highly enough of divine power, maybe they’ll rebuild the chapel even sturdier inside the palace?

A cleric reading the letter beside the High Priest fumed.

“She’s gone too far, hasn’t she? Acting like she’s already the Crown Princess or something.”

The High Priest glared at the letter and replied,

“She’s able to act this way because she’s not the Crown Princess yet.”

“…Excuse me?”

“Namia Roapia hasn’t officially accepted the Crown Prince’s affections. She keeps stringing him along as if she might.”

“Uhh… what?”

“At the banquet, she accepted his partner invitation but didn’t even stay for the first dance. Then she left—and now she’s living in the best room in the palace.”

In his mind, Namia was a seasoned master of courtship.

“So even the Dragon’s Chosen must be flustered. She’s unlike anyone he’s met before.”

“Well, true… Any ordinary woman would’ve started planning the wedding the moment she accepted the partner request.”

And so, grinding his teeth, the High Priest penned a reply.

He wrote that he would visit at a time convenient for her.

“There’s no choice… For the greater good, I’ll just have to endure that unbearable arrogance for a while.”

After a few days of offering divine power, he could casually request a private meeting—and seize the opportunity.

With the temple under inspection and the original plan scrapped, he had no other option now.

“Tell her—I’ll come personally.”

From that point forward—

Namia began summoning the High Priest almost daily, like a servant, saying things like “Your divine power is just wonderful.”

I’d spent a long time working in the Scroll Management Department at the bottom rung.

Which meant—I knew how to annoy subordinates with just one line at the start of a conversation.

“Excuse me, High Priest?”

Of course, the High Priest wasn’t technically beneath me.

But since he was visiting me daily with a request, in practice, that made him no different from a subordinate.

‘The chapel’s collapsed. Without using me, there’s no way he can get a private audience with Kiaros.’

I flashed him a bright smile.

“We’re close enough now, I think, that I can give you a little advice.”

The High Priest’s face visibly soured. As expected, most people hate hearing the word “advice”, especially from someone younger. I followed up with the killing blow:

“Of course, I’m saying this for your own good—so don’t take it the wrong way.”

At this point, I didn’t even need to get to the point for him to already be annoyed.

For reference, yesterday I’d said, “Next time, try showing up a little earlier to wait.”
The day before that, it was, “You must be glad something came up—you were probably bored.”
And each time, the High Priest had looked increasingly irritated.

“Anyway… I’d really like to see you put more effort into using your divine power. Right now, it just kind of feels… half-hearted, you know?”

The ambiguity in my complaint was the cherry on top.

I glanced into my compact mirror and added casually,

“Of course, I know how you truly feel. I only say this because I really feel close to you. I really do want the best for you, High Priest.”

Even after receiving divine power, I didn’t let him go.

I kept him sitting there while I rambled on about whether I should accept the Crown Prince’s affections or not.

“Of course, His Highness always says, ‘Our little Dragon Sister Namia, I’ll do anything for her.’ But I’m still unsure if I can trust that.”

“Hm… Still, you should believe him.”

“But what if he only likes me for my looks? What if someone prettier shows up?”

“…Well. In that case, maybe don’t trust him.”

“But not trusting him also feels wrong. You see, there was this one time…”

By the time I was done, a full hour had passed—and the High Priest wore the most exhausted look imaginable.

Getting under his skin like this was absolutely essential.

He had to be so frustrated that he’d need to act on his plan—just so all this suffering wouldn’t be for nothing.

“Ah, today was fun again.”

After talking his ear off, I stretched and added offhandedly,

“Right, High Priest—you said you were leaving soon, didn’t you? That you wouldn’t be staying here long?”

To which he subtly smiled and replied,

“I’ll be leaving in two days, Minister.”

“Oh, I see.”

“And as you might’ve guessed… the temple isn’t exactly in great condition. The Imperial Family isn’t showing much interest either.”

“Oh my.”

I smiled sweetly and rested my chin on my hand.

“If you speak to them in front of me, maybe they’ll listen. Since you’re leaving soon, I’ll try to set something up for you quickly.”

In that instant, both the High Priest and I were thinking the exact same thing.

“Got you.”

I glanced over at the shadow beside me—Keyvon, standing like a silent sentinel.

I meant to give him a knowing smile, but his expression was oddly blank.

‘He’s been like this ever since we got stuck in that shed together…’

Ever since that night, Keyvon had genuinely seemed… a little out of it.

‘Could it be… he’s thinking of confessing? That’d be kind of cute.’

With a calm expression, I saw the High Priest off, all while quietly laughing to myself inside.

***

7. The Circumstances of a Confessor

After watching Namia deal with the High Priest, Kiaros returned to his quarters.

[I’ll call the High Priest every day and pressure him. I’ll dangle the condition of granting him an audience with Your Highness.]

[An audience with me?]

[Strictly speaking, it would be with me, Your Highness, and the High Priest together. And of course, there won’t be any guards present.]

Namia had already explained her trap to him.

[At that point, conduct a body search. I suspect he’ll be carrying a weapon.]

[An amusing thought. Do you truly believe the High Priest could harm me?]

[He might say he’ll grant you divine power, suggest you pray together… then launch a surprise attack.]

To be honest, when he first heard the plan, Kiaros thought, “This is a bit flimsy.”

The High Priest attempting to assassinate me… no sane man would try that.

The High Priest could not kill him. That fact hadn’t changed—even now, during his dark period. Even without his transcendent abilities, Kiaros was plenty strong.

But Namia’s eyes had sparkled so brightly as she pressed forward with the idea, he hadn’t stopped her.

“Perhaps it will play out as Namia expects. And even if it doesn’t, I lose nothing.”

He had often thought Namia’s plans were too sloppy. And yet, time after time, everything unfolded exactly as she wanted.

That had made him suspicious of her. But still—

“If the High Priest truly is collaborating with the Reformists… then I’ll stop doubting Namia.”

It wasn’t uncommon for villains to throw lesser pawns under the bus to gain someone’s trust.

But catching a cooperator of the High Priest’s rank was another matter entirely.

No matter how suspicious Namia seemed, that kind of success would prove she was firmly on their side.

As someone responsible for the entire empire, Kiaros had no choice but to be cautious.

If not for that position, he would’ve trusted Namia long ago.

“If I fully acknowledge Namia as the empire’s ally… then there’d be no need to keep watching her through the guise of Keyvon.”

But that didn’t erase his inner turmoil.

Ever since that night in the temple shed—when he had crossed a very small line with her—his heart had been swelling daily.

Namia had told him outright, “I didn’t dislike being that close to you.”

And in that moment, he had begun… thinking of names for their children.

The problem was… his true self wasn’t Keyvon, but Kiaros.

“Maybe I should just say Kiaros was assassinated. Then live the rest of my life as Keyvon.”

He thought about it seriously. But even then—it would mean deceiving Namia.

“Haah… Can I really confess to her while keeping something hidden?”

His excitement was matched only by his torment. In the end, he couldn’t keep it bottled up—he spoke to his aide.

“What do you think? Tell me honestly.”

And the aide, bound to speak truthfully by command, replied:

“I believe… that wouldn’t be a confession. It would be fraud.”