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53.

"Your Majesty."
The moment I was about to speak, Cassian Artez pressed his lips to the inside of my palm.
"I can wait. What you have to say is different."
"I... but..."
"I'm more concerned about straining your throat, Roselita."
Cassian Artez slowly released my hand and tucked the blanket around me with care. ‌‌
"So rest a little longer."
"The Temple..."
"You said you trusted me."
Don't fight with Wesley Morel, please?
As I gazed at him with those pleading eyes, a faint smile finally graced Cassian Artez's face once more.
"I ‌‌‌won't do anything you'd dislike, so rest assured and sleep."
Though it carried no enchantment, no spell—somehow, sleep came to me softly at the sound of his voice.

*

'Is that enough to make you happy?'

Perhaps this was a childhood memory after all...
How long had I been asleep? This time, I saw young Cassian Artez before me.
It was around the time when he had overcome those grave wounds with his monstrous healing power.
His ‌‌‌‌face, once ravaged with scars, had healed into unblemished new skin, and even the bruises that had covered his limbs ‌‌‌had faded to a yellowish hue, gradually improving.
It must have been when young Cassian ‌‌Artez asked me that question, wanting to repay my kindness.
I had ‌‌‌‌been determined to prevent my simple life plans from being disrupted by any entanglement with ‌‌the Male Lead.

'Yes, that would be wonderful. I want to live happily with my parents, just like this.'

That's what I had answered.
Back then, I believed it was something I could accomplish with my own strength, without Cassian Artez's help.
When my dream reached that point, I suddenly thought of something.
Snow Mountain, the Temple, and the Holy Maiden.
One of the seven near-death ‌‌‌‌crises Roselita Salice faced in the original ‌‌‌‌story itself, not in some side ‌‌narrative.
Even though the content had diverged completely from the source material, just the fact that the ‌setting and the gathered individuals were ‌the same had made things this serious.
Though admittedly, this consequence was of my own making.
'In the original story, the Temple, commissioned by the First Empress, deliberately tried to isolate Cassian Artez....'
In that moment, I realized something.
Until I cried out, the Holy Maiden's group had been heading in a different direction from where we were.
Their convergence point had been delayed beyond ‌what we had predicted.
'This ‌‌original story ‌‌‌is truly rotten.'
Was it determined to make the scheduled event happen no matter what?
Whether my body felt heavy and hot, or whether I ‌‌was ‌simply irritated and running a fever.
I couldn't tell, but even ‌‌‌‌in my feverish haze, I stubbornly insisted.
'No matter what happens, I won't stop destroying the original story.'
An innocent source material where innocent people got caught up, lost their lives, and fell into ruin—from now on, forever and ever.
Forever and ever.
I intended to ignore it.

*

When I opened my eyes again, three ‌‌days had passed.
The barrier Wesley Morel—now corrected to Holy Saint rather than Holy Maiden—had set up was sturdy enough to last a full year as it was.
While I slept and suffered, Cassian Artez had ‌smoothly completed all negotiations with the Temple.
And during that process, Wesley Morel had strongly insisted that the Temple correct their designation of him from Holy ‌‌‌‌Maiden to Holy Saint.

'Everyone already knows I'm not a woman anyway. How long are you going to keep people's mouths shut? Is that really what the Temple should be doing?'

Wesley Morel had made assertions as formidable as the thickened body he now possessed, unlike in the original story.
The clergy who had followed as reinforcements claimed they needed to consult with the High Priest and didn't give a proper answer, instead requesting that he ‌‌cover his face even now.

'There's no such precedent? I got so tired of hearing "precedent, precedent" that I dug through every scripture and ‌‌‌historical text while I was holed up in the ‌‌Temple! If you want to refute me, bring me proper documentary evidence!'

Cassian relayed Wesley's words to me, his gaze settling on me with unmistakable recognition—he knew exactly who had taught Wesley so well.
'Thinking back on it now, I really did teach her brilliantly!'
As I heard the account of Wesley's rhetorical clash with the Temple, I felt a quiet pride in my younger self's actions.
Without that foundation, Wesley would have been manipulated by ‌‌‌‌the Temple.
Wesley Morel possessed, without question, every single qualification the Temple demanded of a Holy Maiden.
An immeasurable reservoir of divine power that seemed bottomless, and the sacred stigma ‌of God inscribed upon her back.
Only one thing set her apart—her gender was male.
Looking back through history, this was an unprecedented situation, and the Temple had apparently floundered quite considerably.
The Pope himself had ultimately made the decision on what to do with a male Holy ‌‌Maiden.
Hide the gender and raise him as a Holy Maiden.
In the original story, I'd always wondered why Wesley Morel seemed so frustratingly constrained....

'A Holy Maiden possessed of papal-grade divine ‌‌power, yet bound by the precepts passed down through generations ‌‌to all Holy Maidens.
Raised within the Temple, knowing no other world, she believed it was her calling and submitted to it. To cause discord was nothing short of betrayal of God itself.'

The Temple was far worse than anyone could imagine.
And yet Wesley, who should have grown up obedient to the Temple as in the original story, had instead blossomed into a magnificent rebel.
'I was right to teach ‌‌‌her all those things when she was young. People who only speak loudly or deceive with pretty words have no ‌substance—that's ‌what I told her.'
And above all, that what she wanted came first.
Of course, I had known back then that Wesley's gender was female....
'Regardless of gender, it couldn't have been her choice to grow up so stunted by the Temple's gaslighting, her body withered from deprivation.'
It would have been difficult for her to even realize that hiding her gender wasn't for her own sake.
But my certainty that Wesley would join this expedition stemmed not only from the childhood we spent together.

*

"Roselita!"
Due to Cassian's meticulous surveillance, I couldn't meet Wesley until the next day after I'd recovered.
"If it weren't for the magical side effects, I would have healed you with holy power."
He wore a deeply regretful expression.
Since magical power and holy power were fundamentally opposing forces, touching the side effects incorrectly could spiral into an uncontrollable situation.
As he ‌‌‌lamented this, he ‌‌‌soon broke into a bright smile and spoke in his characteristically gentle tone.
"Don't worry about using magical tools—I told them to shut up because they were being so noisy!"
Wesley grumbled that they had poor navigation skills and slow feet, forcing the Imperial Army to handle everything, and ‌they didn't even have the decency to feel guilty about it.
I gazed at ‌‌‌Wesley intently.
He wasn't wearing the Holy Maiden's robes that prioritized aesthetics from when we first climbed the mountain, but rather the uniform of the Holy Knight Order. ‌‌‌
There must have been an enormous ‌‌‌argument before he agreed to wear that outfit.
"Thank you, Your Highness. Because of you—"
"Your Highness?!"
The moment I opened my mouth to express my gratitude, Wesley jumped up and spoke.
"Why are you being so formal with me? Have you been harboring resentment because I came so late?"
Unlike Cassian, dark clouds gathered over ‌‌‌his beautiful face.
His features had certainly grown sharper than in childhood, and I could ‌‌see him restraining himself—likely from the education he'd received at the Temple.
'That expression he showed when we parted as children... it's still there.'
The slight awkwardness of meeting after so long, and the stiffness from our changed positions, seemed to melt away.
"That's not it. You've changed too, Wesley."
"Ah, it's become a habit from living at the Temple. Everyone speaks that way there, and they especially forced me to use this gentle tone..."
Speaking with a face full ‌‌‌‌of complaints, he seemed to remember something and leaned ‌‌‌toward my ‌‌‌‌bed, propping himself up on his arm.
"Listen, Roselita!"
Wesley added that his speech patterns had ‌already become completely ingrained and would ‌‌‌be difficult to change, asking for my understanding, before he began his story.
"A dragon appeared for the first time in centuries—not just any magical beast, but a dragon!"
"That's right. It's still roaring now."
Wesley's barrier was remarkably sturdy, giving the army time to prepare without worry, but ‌‌‌since the barrier didn't block sound, the dragon's roar had become a familiar background noise.
"Honestly, the Temple is completely rotten! And yet they keep spouting nonsense about how I don't need to go, that the Imperial Army will handle ‌‌it themselves!"
As a side note, in the original story, when First Prince Charlie set out to gain merit by subjugating the Snow Mountain magical beasts, the Temple only moved after receiving a request from ‌‌‌the First Empress.
Even then, they verified safety twice, three times over, before saying they would send the Holy Maiden for the Empire's peace.
When First Prince ‌‌‌‌Charlie's lack of leadership threatened to ‌‌prolong the expedition, the ‌‌‌‌‌First Empress pressured the Emperor ‌‌‌to send Cassian as well, but as the subjugation neared completion, she deliberately demanded the Temple trigger an avalanche.
Through the First Empress's scheme, Cassian, who had gone out for a final expedition inspection, nearly became isolated, and Roselita, rushing to rescue ‌‌him, found herself in danger from magical beasts spawned by the avalanche.
The Holy Maiden realized too late and, questioning how anyone could sacrifice people like that, mobilized the Holy Knight Order to rescue them. Through the cooperation of all three, they managed to escape the crisis, but—
'As a result, the Holy Maiden was confined to the Temple for a while.'
Neither the First Empress nor the Temple needed someone who would cause such incidents.
That's why I felt so reassured by Wesley's current attitude.
"How could they try to rob me of such a golden opportunity? Why did I abandon the orphanage life where ‌‌I could see you often and follow the Temple?!"
Wesley's voice grew louder.
"To go to the Temple and see the scales! Fangs! Claws of every dragon that's been subjugated throughout history!!"
He clenched his fists and shouted.
"I endured it ‌all just ‌‌‌to witness such a sight! And now you dare rob me of the chance to meet the Dragon?!"
This ‌‌‌genuine Dragon enthusiast looked ready to tear the entire Temple apart—there was not the slightest ‌‌‌chance she would bend to their will.
‌‌‌

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Brought to you by Valir Scans! ‌‌To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org
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