The Saintess Returned to the Emperor’s Arms Chapter 126

Because she is an empress who doesn’t know how to show off

 

Afterwards, Riella and Herhan left a few investigators at the temple and returned to the palace first.

 

The Emperor returned quietly and solemnly, in contrast to his grand expedition.

 

Herhan first sent Fabian’s remains to the palace for proper arrangements.

 

When they arrived at the palace, there was a small candle for Fabian on the altar in the palace temple.

 

Riella walked very slowly towards the altar.

 

Herhan stood at the temple entrance, silently watching Riella’s back.

 

Riella, traversing the quiet temple lit only by bright lights, looked like a goddess comforting and guiding sleeping souls.

 

“Fabian. Now, go wherever you want, freely. Fly through the skies, breathe fire. Without me—just as you wish.”

 

Before the dazzling candlestick, Riella placed a storybook and a small box of candy.

 

“Goodbye.”

 

Her voice was finally peaceful.

On the way here, she had cried to her heart’s content in Herhan’s arms, grieving enough to feel a sense of release.

Herhan had been jealous, muttering that Fabian was blessed by the goddess until his very last moment.

 

Despite all that grumbling, he had brought Fabian, who should have been abandoned somewhere in the cold northern forest outside the temple, here and buried him in a sunny spot.

 

When her prayer ended and she turned back, she saw Herhan standing at the distant entrance with the sunlight at his back.

 

Watching him, Riella thought.

 

‘If Fabian left peacefully, it would be thanks not to me, but to you who stayed by my side.’

 

Riella, who had trudged that painful path with heavy steps, now walked back strong and steady.

 

“I’ve said my goodbyes.”

 

“Good.”

 

Herhan stroked Riella’s white cheek with the back of his hand.

 

It was truly remarkable how her cheeks, rough from tears for days, were now as smooth as new skin.

 

“I’ll wait outside. I want to feel the sun.”

 

Herhan nodded.

 

Only after he saw Riella step outside the temple into the pouring sunlight and take a deep breath of relief did he walk towards the altar.

 

“Fabian had better be grateful on his way.”

 

“He will be. For knowing that Your Majesty is such a compassionate man.”

 

“No. He should be grateful to Riella, not me.”

 

Ah. Of course.

 

Ashion nodded bitterly.

 

In silence, Herhan fixed his blue gaze for a long time on the candlestick and the gift Riella had left behind.

 

‘No matter how much I think about it, those feelings are too much for you to receive.’

 

‘Still—just this once, for the very last time—I’ll close my eyes and pretend not to see.’

 

Herhan thought as he recalled his last time with Fabian.

 

Something Riella never knew, a farewell shared only between the two of them.

 

* * *

 

“I have something to say.”

 

“You dare?”

 

It had been right after the judgment. Just before leaving the temple for a short rest.

 

Herhan had placed trembling Riella inside the carriage, then secretly headed off with Jess to a certain location.

 

Fabian was there.

 

He had testified about Greta and the Alliance—and now hovered between life and death.

 

“Don’t expect me to let you see Riella just by begging like that.”

 

Though Herhan’s voice was ice, Fabian seemed unbothered—as if he had never dreamed of such a thing to begin with.

 

“It’s not Riella I wish to see, but Your Majesty to whom I must speak.”

 

“You’re fearless.”

 

‘Fine. Let’s hear it, then.’

 

Herhan crossed his arms and looked down at Fabian with a chilling look.

 

If the man dared to mutter something pathetic like please take care of Riella, Herhan was ready to snuff out his fragile breath right then

 

However.

 

“I heard from the doctor that you’re looking for Hank’s necklace. What does that have to do with this case?”

 

Fabian’s question was unexpected.

 

“It has nothing to do with this case.”

 

“Then why….?”

 

He owed Fabian no explanation.

And yet, he spoke anyway.

Was it sympathy for the dying man?

Or maybe he wanted to show off his superiority as someone who owned Riella.

 

“That necklace was a keepsake left behind by Riella’s family. I’m looking for Riella’s family.”

 

Ah.

 

Dry lips parted, and a faint sigh slipped out.

 

For a long time, Fabian could not speak again—whether lost in thought or strangled by pain, Herhan could not tell.

 

“I remember that necklace.”

 

After a long pause to catch his breath, he finally calmed down and explained what he knew in a calm voice.

 

“Riella was so sad at that time. She thought Hank had sold his treasured belongings for his comrades. I wanted to comfort her, so I scoured the market district. I managed to find the merchant who had bought Hank’s necklace—but by then, he had already passed it on to someone else.”

 

His words were broken by groans of pain.

 

Herhan knew he was overexerting himself, yet he did not tell him to stop.

 

“He said, ‘Count Parlante.’”

 

“Count Parlante?”

 

“They were the wealthiest family in the region. They lived in a mansion in the forest, with great moss-covered walls…”

 

‘A mansion in the forest with a large moss wall.’

Herhan thought he recognized it.

The very estate, in Hank’s memories, where young Riella had once met a boy.

 

“They were strange people who suddenly disappeared one day without a word. I heard they left town, but I don’t know when or how they came back and bought Hank’s necklace.…”

 

That was enough of a lead.

 

When Herhan nodded to Jess, Jess noted the name “Parlante” and nodded.

 

“You remember it so clearly, even though it was when you were little. Hank doesn’t remember it either.”

 

“Is that a compliment?”

 

“It’s suspicion.”

 

Herhan’s gaze was cold, but Fabian just smiled bitterly.

 

“Hank and Riella may not remember, but I do. Because the young master of that house liked Riella.”

 

–Cough, cough.

 

When Fabian coughed, blood was visible through the bandages wrapped tightly around his stomach.

 

But what caught Herhan’s sharp attention wasn’t Fabian’s pale complexion or his regretful expression.

 

“Kyle Parlante.”

 

As if delivering his final testament, Fabian, who had been trembling like a flame about to go out, looked straight at Herhan with strong eyes for that moment and spoke.

 

“I was always angry when Riella came home from talking to that young master. I couldn’t even throw away the things Riella earned from that house. And in the end, I see I’m still the same. Still clinging on without even realizing whose grace kept me alive all this time…”

 

“You expect me to sit here listening to you sell your memories?”

 

Herhan turned away coldly at that point.

 

“In any case, Riella did have a family. She wasn’t abandoned. I’m glad. Truly glad…”

 

Fabian’s broken sobs—whether of regret or relief—were something Herhan no longer wished to hear.

 

To Herhan, he was just a damn man who would make Riella suffer until the very end.

 

* * *

 

Kyle Parlante.

 

‘Could the young boy who had held the hand of young Riella also have been a descendant of Enril?’

 

Herhan felt uneasy.

 

The news of Ann’s appearance nearly caused a riot in the temple camp.

 

The eyes of the entire world were watching the returned saint’s every move.

 

Thanks to the temple’s declaration of war having been successful, those who had been openly ambitious were temporarily put down.

 

However, those who still held onto their lingering ambitions, biding their time, swarmed like a pack of hyenas.

 

It was the very worry Herhan himself had once carried:

 

That once Riella’s existence was revealed, the whole world would covet her.

 

And yet, strangely enough, now that the day had come, he did not lose his mind to anxiety.

 

Instead, he felt calm, his head clear.

 

Perhaps it was because Rila kept confessing again and again: You are my only master.

 

“Your Majesty. What should I do?”

 

With wide, innocent eyes, she looked up at him as if he were her sky.

 

A fierce will surged in him—he could do anything if it meant protecting this woman.

 

“Ever since we returned to the palace, I’ve had a strange feeling,” Riella said, naturally slipping her hand into Herhan’s as he approached.

 

“I think… people hate me.”

 

“What?”

 

“No one makes eye contact with me. They seem reluctant to even talk to me. Is it because I’ve caused trouble? Or is it because being a descendant of Ann seems a bit scary? It’s not like I’m going to eat them like a witch.”

 

It was a lovely grumble.

 

Riella had a brave face, even though she was smiling bitterly.

 

For someone confessing to being ostracized, she looked composed and endearingly brave.

 

Herhan laughed, and Riella replied with quiet resolve:

 

“I’ll overcome everything. I’ll be recognized in the end, and I’ll ultimately stand by Your Majesty’s side. I can endure a little bit of hatred.”

 

Herhan stroked her hair as he answered.

 

Her red locks, filled with autumn’s golden warmth, curled luxuriously through his fingers.

 

“There’s no need to endure it.”

 

“I’m fine….”

 

“No. Really, I mean, there’s nothing you have to endure.”

 

Herhan led Riella to the main palace’s conference room.

 

Even though the seat of honor was empty, the ministers who filled the conference room were bustling with activity.

 

Some even stood up, waving their fingers in the air and raising their voices.

 

Listening anxiously, Riella couldn’t help but part her lips in surprise.

 

“Have you lost your mind? How dare you address our Empress so presumptuously?”

 

“Indeed. Weren’t these the very same who only days ago had the audacity to turn away the envoys of the royal marriage? And now they demand a private audience with Her Majesty? A hundred years too soon!”

 

“What do you mean, a hundred years? Anyone who has ever dared to look down on Lady Blinite should be banned from entering our territory. Let’s even exclude them from the list of guests for this wedding.”

 

“While we’re at it, we should also reinforce the palace’s security. We should mobilize as many troops as possible before the wedding.”

 

“..….”

 

It wasn’t hatred.

 

Nor were they treating her as though she were a witch.

 

“They’re too busy worrying that others might covet my Empress to even have the time to hate you,” Herhan said, wrapping a firm arm around her waist.

 

“But… that’s strange. The people who passed me earlier seemed to ignore me…”

 

“I ordered them to humble themselves as penance.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“They dared to doubt you, to raise their voices against you. If they wish to avoid Ann’s wrath and hope to share in divine favor, then before you they are to keep their heads bowed, their eyes lowered.”

 

No, that wasn’t right at all.

 

Riella turned around to look at Herhan, but his grip on her waist was too firm.

 

“I’ve never been angry at them. I don’t even know how to bestow blessings!”

 

“That’s right. But they don’t know that.”

 

“The Saint is me—yet Your Majesty is the one taking the credit?”

 

“I’ll do it instead. My empress is a woman who doesn’t know how to show off. She doesn’t even know how great she is, and she thinks things like she’s been hated.”

 

Riela, pouting, squirmed in his arms, but then fell still.

 

Not that resistance would have freed her from his hold anyway.

 

“Don’t forget, Riella. From now on, you’ll be busy receiving nothing but love.”

 

Herhan’s voice was sweet.

 

* * *