Grant me Your Grace Chapter 45

Only High Priest Aaron desperately tried to defend Hissin.  

 

“Your Majesty, let us not forget the miracles performed by the Divine Gift when they first arrived in Baran.”  

 

“And yet those miracles vanished in less than half a year, did they not?” Saltar retorted, staring at Aaron with disdain.  

 

“Who’s to say those weren’t just the tricks of a demon disguised as a divine blessing?”  

 

Aaron’s face turned pale.  

 

“Your Highness the Crown Prince! How could you say such blasphemous words?”  

 

“What’s truly blasphemous is you priests holed up in your temples, praying uselessly while offering no real solutions!” 

 

Saltar thundered, his voice ringing with arrogance even before the Emperor. He dared to address the High Priest—the representative of the temple—with such disrespect.  

 

Yet the Emperor did not rebuke his son. Instead, he wore an expression of weary indifference, as if silently approving of Saltar’s behavior.  

 

Emboldened by his father’s tacit support, Saltar pressed on triumphantly.  

 

“Speak, High Priest. Are you truly certain that man is the Divine Gift?”  

 

“What kind of sacrilege is this, Your Highness? Are you denying the oracle now?”  

 

“Can you honestly swear that none of the countless prophecies you’ve delivered on behalf of the priests were ever tainted by human will?”  

 

“Your Highness!”  

 

Aaron trembled with fury, his eyes burning. He could not forgive such open mockery of the divine will—not even from royalty.  

 

Mudhat Osahar, a central noble, also stepped forward in protest.  

 

“Your Highness, are you implying that you would turn against the temple itself?”  

 

“When did I ever say that?”  

 

Saltar smirked, his lips curling. He had long disliked the High Priest for his refusal to bow to him. Now, he saw his chance to eliminate Aaron for good.  

 

“I merely wish to confirm whether the so-called ‘Divine Gift’ truly was sent by the Goddess Nuit. If he is indeed her chosen, then let him perform a miracle now and save this land.”  

 

“But miracles come only when the Goddess wills it—”  

 

“And when will that be? When more of our people lie dead? Must the entire empire perish before the Goddess grants us her mercy?”  

 

A heavy silence followed Saltar’s outburst.  

 

Fear of the plague and famine gripping the capital had left no one willing to stand with Aaron. The High Priest could only face the crushing silence in helpless defeat.  

 

“Your Highness—!”  

 

“Lord Mudhat.”  

 

Just as Osahar moved to intervene, Aaron stopped him with a quiet call. The matter was already decided. Any further resistance would only bring trouble upon Osahar as well.  

 

Swallowing his anger, Aaron turned his gaze to Saltar. The Crown Prince’s triumphant grin planted a seed of doubt in the High Priest’s heart.  

 

‘Had any of the prophecies he delivered… truly been tainted by human will?’  

 

[Were you never afraid… speaking in place of the priests who received the oracles?]  

 

Hovan’s voice echoed in his mind—whether because of the fundamental doubt Saltar had raised, or because of the doubt now aimed at the one who had asked.  

 

[The Goddess surely knows the purity of your heart.]  

 

At last, the Emperor, who had been silently observing the tension, finally spoke.  

 

“Attend me.”  

 

“Yes, Your Majesty.”  

 

Khankundra, who had indulged in blue lotus powder the night before, rubbed his tired temples.  

 

“Send soldiers at once to arrest the Divine Gift—no.”  

 

The Emperor discarded even the sacred title.  

 

“Arrest Hissin.”  

 

“Your Majesty!”  

 

Aaron cried out in shock, but there was no mercy to be expected for the Divine Gift. 

 

Worse still, the Emperor had now abandoned even the High Priest who had proclaimed Hissin’s divinity.  

 

“And interrogate the High Priest to determine the authenticity of the oracles.”  

 

“Yes, Your Majesty.”  

 

“Your Majesty, I beg you to reconsider—Your Majesty!”  

 

Aaron’s desperate pleas filled the palace as guards dragged him away. Though Osahar fiercely demanded reconsideration, the Emperor ignored him. A tense undercurrent spread among those who now grasped the gravity of the situation.  

 

“What are you all standing around for? Arrest Hissin at once!”  

 

“Yes, Your Majesty!”  

 

The remaining soldiers marched toward the temple in unison.

 

✨

 

“Your Highness, Princess! Something terrible has happened!”  

 

Dahlia had been in the middle of a lyre lesson with Hovan when Bertha burst into the room in a panic. Bertha never interrupted Hovan’s lessons unless absolutely necessary, so Dahlia lifted her gaze from the sheet music—just one full playthrough away from mastery—and stared at her in confusion.  

 

“What’s wrong?”  

 

“Soldiers from the palace—they’ve stormed the temple!”  

 

Hovan’s serene expression hardened instantly. The temple was sacred ground, inviolable. For the Emperor to send troops there was nothing short of an outright betrayal of the gods.  

 

But the worst was yet to come. Bertha’s jaw trembled as she glanced at the priest before continuing.  

 

“High Priest Aaron and the Divine Gift… they might be imprisoned.”  

 

Dahlia’s face turned deathly pale at the name.  

 

“Who… who is being imprisoned?”  

 

“His Majesty the Emperor has ordered the Divine Gift’s arrest. They say the plague and famine ravaging the empire are happening because he’s not a divine blessing—but a demon’s offering. That he must be killed to beg the Goddess Nuit for forgiveness—”  

 

Dahlia’s vision whited out. A piercing ringing tore through her ears, forcing her to clamp her hands over them.  

 

“Your Highness, are you all right? Your Highness!”  

 

Shrugging off Bertha’s support, Dahlia stumbled to the window. In the distance, amidst the furious cries of the empire’s people, she saw Hissin being dragged away by soldiers.  

 

“No… No!”  

 

“Your Highness, where are you going? Your Highness!”  

 

Ignoring Bertha’s pleas, Dahlia bolted from the room. She raced down the grand staircase and out of the princess’s quarters—only to be blocked by the guards stationed outside.  

 

“Turn back, Your Highness. It’s still broad daylight.”  

 

“Move. Get out of my way!”  

 

“Have you forgotten His Majesty’s decree? Without his permission, you cannot set a single foot outside during the day, Your Highness.”  

 

“I said MOVE!”  

 

Dahlia thrashed, but she was no match for the guards. Her outstretched hand trembled helplessly toward the temple.  

 

If I’d known this would happen… I wouldn’t have said those cruel things to you that day. 

I wouldn’t have told you never to see me again. Wouldn’t have told you to just die.  

I wouldn’t have left you behind.  

 

“Hissin… No!”  

 

Collapsing to the ground, powerless tears streamed down Dahlia’s cheeks. Hovan moved to help her up, but there was no mending her shattered heart.  

 

✨

 

Deep night fell. 

 

Thick storm clouds choked the sky, heavy with the scent of impending rain.  

 

Dahlia threw on a cloak, hastily tying the cords. Bertha, watching with concern, spoke up.  

 

“Your Highness, the temple must still be in chaos after today. Wouldn’t it be better to pray another time?”  

 

“What happened was during the day. By now, the priests should all be in the cloister. It’ll be fine.”  

 

Truthfully, Bertha was right—the temple was in turmoil. With both the High Priest and the Divine Gift taken by the Emperor, there was no telling who might still be guarding it.  

 

But Dahlia couldn’t bear to stay idle in her quarters. If she didn’t go to the temple now, she felt like her mind would snap.  

 

“I’ll be back, Bertha.”  

 

“…Please be careful, Your Highness.”  

 

Dahlia, her face now covered, gave Bertha’s worried head a reassuring pat. Then, tucking a pouch of Rayrion’s favorite treats into her robe, she set off for the temple.  

 

The entire way, guided only by a flickering candle through the pitch-black path, she prayed—over and over—that everything she’d heard that day was a lie.  

 

That there had been some mistake.  

 

That the Emperor must have realized his error and freed Hissin by now.  

 

But the Goddess did not grant her wish this time, either.  

 

“Hissin…”  

 

Traces of the soldiers’ presence lingered throughout the temple.

 

The once-vibrant grass had been trampled lifeless, and the sacred stone towers and gardens—always meticulously kept—lay in ruins.  

 

Dahlia slowly crossed the temple’s front courtyard. Picking her way through the wreckage, she arrived at the window where she and Hissin had once shared quiet moments.  

 

Her eyes fell on the Levithia plant pot placed there. 

 

Even under the temple’s divine protection, it seemed the blight could not be avoided—the once-lush Levithia had withered to a brittle yellow husk.  

 

Staring at the pot, Hissin’s voice echoed in her ears.  

 

[Your Highness could never leave me.]  

 

“You said you wouldn’t leave me…”  

 

[Just as I could never leave you.]  

 

“Then why… why aren’t you here now…?”  

 

Dahlia choked back a sob. But Hissin wasn’t the only thing missing from the temple tonight.  

 

As her tear-blurred vision lifted, something else caught her eye—  

 

Something that should never have been visible.