Chapter – 04
Alesto gave Asha a room next to his own and even assigned a maid to her.
Right after sending Asha into the palace, Alesto prepared a carriage.
“I need to go to Herman.”
Jerold followed behind Alesto, handing him a few documents.
“The saintess participated in the temple event today because of a matchmaking meeting,” he said.
Alesto glanced over the documents briefly without slowing his pace.
“Cedric Dalbert, Marquis?”
“Yes. It’s the ball season. Now that the territory is secure, it seems he came to find a marriage partner.”
Alesto roughly understood the situation.
Private salons aside, even the charity events hosted by the temple were suitable venues for noble matchmaking.
It seemed that the saintess intended to follow Cedric, a man she had never met before, from the very start.
‘And this was on their first meeting.’
Why?
Why would she tell him to take her along to be confined by a man she’d never met? That was reckless beyond reason.
‘Perhaps she has already turned back time, or is attempting something.’
Without knowing the full situation, various suspicions and unresolved assumptions swirled in his mind.
“Has the date for the revelation of the prophecy been set?”
“In two weeks.”
Alesto paused.
The prophecy will be revealed in two weeks? Considering that in the past it usually took over a month from the prophecy’s receipt to its public announcement, this schedule was incredibly accelerated.
Do they intend to use this prophecy to expand the temple’s influence?
‘Still… it’s far too soon.’
Alesto handed the documents back to Jerold after a brief hesitation and issued an order.
“I’ll go ahead first. Prepare the marriage contract.”
A question mark seemed to float over Jerold’s head.
“The marriage contract? Who’s getting married?”
“Me and the saintess.”
Jerold’s jaw dropped.
“What? All of a sudden? What about the daughter of Marquis Eart? Mother is negotiating my marriage with her!”
“Cecilia isn’t to my taste.”
Jerold furrowed his brows.
“My brother is full, isn’t he? Is there anyone more beautiful and refined than Cecilia?”
Alesto chuckled at his brother’s frankness.
“So you only care if she’s pretty. Your taste is refreshingly simple,” he said.
Their conversation continued even as they reached the carriage.
“This isn’t something you can rush like roasting beans over a lightning strike. Why are you in such a hurry? Does it have something to do with the prophecy?”
Alesto had checked the prophecy alone.
So far, he hadn’t shared it with anyone, nor did he intend to.
“No. The prophecy is the same as the previous one. It shows the future, but no one can be told.”
Alesto opened the carriage door, turned back, and spoke seriously to his younger brother.
“The saintess is my ideal type. The perfect ideal I never thought existed in the world.”
Jerold’s expression twisted oddly.
“How can you tell someone is your perfect type after meeting them for only a few hours?”
“You don’t need to spend long to recognize my ideal type, and seeing them briefly is enough to know,” Alesto said with a calm certainty.
Their dialogue was like spear and shield.
Jerold, unable to comprehend, pounded his chest with his fists, while Alesto remained unnervingly composed.
“Fine, let’s assume she’s your ideal type and suits your taste. How does that justify marriage? Isn’t love the most important? Do you love her?”
Here, the easiest answer would have been to say yes. But Alesto did not.
If he said he was in love, Jerold, who always stood by him and watched, would immediately notice it wasn’t true.
Then he’d ask why he was marrying her, and any other lie would fall apart.
He didn’t claim love, but his tone was resolute and firm.
“I want her. Even if my eyes are wrong and we end up divorcing later, I want to have her at least once.”
Jerold’s jaw dropped further.
His brother’s words were not about love—they were close to greed.
“No one marries just because they like their ideal type and want them, without falling in love at first sight!”
Alesto patted Jerold on the shoulder, meeting his gaze.
“Love isn’t what matters to me.”
Then what could possibly matter?!
Jerold, a young man who dreamed of a sensible and ideal fate, nearly shouted, but swallowed his words.
He had guessed the answer, and hearing it directly from his brother was even more frightening.
As Jerold remained silent, Alesto patted his head once and stepped into the carriage.
Jerold sighed deeply.
‘I may respect my brother, but he’s on another level.’
He knew his brother was unlike other men.
Alesto was extremely attractive, and his words carried innate authority and grace that could not be challenged.
No matter how much Jerold observed and tried to emulate him, there was a clear limit.
Not only did he possess natural dignity, but Alesto also had an extraordinarily strong inclination to dominate.
On top of that, he needed to control everything within his sight to feel satisfied.
Still…
Surely that wouldn’t extend to his marriage criteria?
Jerold felt uneasy at the mention of “ideal type” and was worried, but in reality, it was a blatant lie by Alesto.
Of course, Alesto did have an ideal type.
He simply didn’t believe such a person existed in the world.
If he were to describe it plausibly, it would be someone who could rest in his shadow, be content with his presence, and enjoy freedom through him.
To put it more bluntly, someone who could satisfy his endless possessiveness.
Someone who could accept his need to control everything, and live comfortably in the environment he provided.
He had never expected such a “fated” person to appear in his life.
Because he had already decided that his ideal type did not exist, he could proceed with marrying the saintess.
If he had hoped to someday meet his ideal type, he would have kept a place open for his destined partner.
Either way,
‘I got lucky.’
Especially in the current situation, the saintess’s existence was a stroke of fortune.
After all, although his plan to seize the throne was perfectly drafted, the process was far from smooth.
The emperor’s forces still lurked in the shadows.
The real challenge was still ahead.
If he could obtain the ability to turn back time in this situation, his chances of success would increase dramatically.
‘To reduce variables, I have to get the saintess in my hands, no matter what.’
Since the fantasy of a romantic meeting with a handsome man had started with the saintess, he only needed to pretend to fall in love with a woman who looked only at him.
Alesto knew very well that to keep someone close, he needed to win their heart.
He selected “love” as the tool to use on the saintess.
He would pretend not to know her abilities.
Revealing that he knew too soon would make her wary.
To build trust, it was better to approach her in a human, personal way.
And if, by chance, he couldn’t acquire her?
‘Then I’ll make sure no one can have her.’
By any means necessary.
Meanwhile, the mansion of Count Herman was in chaos.
A dispatch had just arrived from Marquis Cedric Dalbert stating that Asha had not appeared in the temple’s lavender garden.
Fridis, the former saintess and Asha’s mother, staggered in shock, and the nearby maids rushed to support her.
Fridis began groaning as if she had been bedridden for three months and ten days.
Asha was her most precious treasure.
Especially now, when the saintess’s abilities had not been revealed, her value was at its peak.
Of course, if Asha were to be granted special abilities, her worth would rise even further, but that seemed unlikely.
