Chapter 4

Alesto gave Asha the room next to his own and assigned a maid to attend her.

Right after sending her into the palace quarters, he ordered the carriage to be prepared.

“I’ll head to the Herman estate.”

Jerold followed behind him, handing over several documents.

“The Saintess attended the temple charity event today for a matchmaking meeting.”

Without slowing his steps, Alesto took the papers and glanced through them.

“Marquis Cedric Dalbert?”

“Yes. It’s the ballroom season. His territory has stabilized, so it seems he came to the capital to find a bride.”

Alesto immediately got the gist of what had happened.

Private salons were common for such meetings, but even the charity events hosted by the temple were known as suitable venues for matchmaking among nobles.

It seemed the Saintess had planned from the start to go along with her arranged partner, Cedric, a man she had never even met before.

‘And that was their first meeting.’

Why?

What could possibly have driven her to do that?

To tell a man she’d just met to take her away and confine her was recklessly bold.

‘She might have already turned back time and is testing something.’

With no clear facts, only speculations and uncertain thoughts piled up in his mind.

“Has the date been set for the public announcement of the divine oracle?”

“In two weeks, Your Highness.”

He paused.

Two weeks until the Saintess’s power would be revealed?

In the past, divine oracles were usually announced at least a month after being received. This schedule was absurdly early.

Did the temple intend to use this oracle to expand its influence?

‘Even so, this is too soon.’

After a brief hesitation, Alesto handed the documents back to Jerold and gave his order.

“I’ll go ahead. You prepare a marriage contract.”

A visible question mark rose above Jerold’s head.

“A marriage contract, Your Highness? For whom?”

“For me and the Saintess.”

Jerold’s mouth fell open.

“What? All of a sudden? What about the Marquis of Iart’s daughter? Her Grace the Empress has been arranging a marriage between you and Lady Cecilia of Iart.”

“Lady Cecilia isn’t to my taste.”

Jerold frowned.

“You’re too spoiled, brother. Where else would you find someone as beautiful and gentle as Lady Cecilia?”

Alesto gave a quiet laugh at his brother’s blunt honesty.

“If beauty is all it takes, your preferences are refreshingly simple.”

Their conversation continued even as they reached the carriage.

“This is way too sudden. What’s the rush? Is it related to the divine oracle?”

The divine oracle was something only Alesto himself had read.

He hadn’t shared it with anyone, and he had no intention of doing so yet.

“No. The oracle was the same as the previous generation’s. Seeing the future and being unable to speak of it.”

Opening the carriage door, Alesto turned and looked at his younger brother seriously.

“The Saintess is my ideal type. The perfect one I thought could never exist.”

Jerold’s expression twisted strangely.

“You’ve known her for what, a few hours? How can you already be sure she’s your perfect type?”

“My ideal type isn’t something I need years to recognize or hours to miss. When I see it, I know.”

Their exchange was like a duel between sword and shield.

Jerold thumped his chest with his fist, exasperated, while his brother remained perfectly composed.

“Fine. Let’s say she’s your ideal type and exactly your taste. But how does that justify marriage? The most important thing in marriage is love. Do you love her?”

Love would have been the best answer here, but Alesto didn’t say it.

His brother, who had always been by his side, would immediately notice if it wasn’t true.

Then Jerold would start asking why he wanted to marry her, and no other lie would hold up.

So instead of love, Alesto spoke with calm determination.

“I want to have her. Even if I end up divorcing her later, I’ll still make her mine at least once.”

Jerold was speechless.

What he saw in his brother wasn’t love, but something far closer to greed.

“You can’t be serious. You’re saying you’ll marry someone not because you love her, but because you want to possess her?”

Alesto patted his younger brother’s shoulder and met his eyes.

“Love doesn’t matter to me.”

What does, then?

Jerold almost shouted but barely managed to hold his tongue.

He could already guess the answer, and hearing it out loud would only make it worse.

While he stayed silent, Alesto gave his brother’s hair a brief tousle and stepped into the carriage.

Jerold let out a long sigh.

‘No matter how much I admire him, my brother really is something else.’

He knew Alesto was different from ordinary people.

His brother was charming and commanding, born with an innate grace that others could never imitate.

No matter how much Jerold observed and learned, there was always a clear, unreachable gap between them.

It wasn’t just his natural charisma. Alesto was born with the instincts of a ruler, a person who could not rest until everything in sight was under his control.

Still, this time…

Surely that desire wouldn’t extend to marriage itself.

* * *

Jerold was left uneasy by the talk of an “ideal type,” but the truth was, Alesto had lied.

He did have an ideal type.

He just didn’t believe such a person could exist in reality.

If he were to describe it in words, his ideal was someone who could find peace and satisfaction only within his shadow.

To put it bluntly, someone who could fulfill his endless desire for possession.

A person who accepted his obsessive need to control everything, and who could live comfortably within the world he created.

He had never expected to meet anyone like that.

Since he believed his ideal could never exist, it was easy to move forward with marrying the Saintess.

If he had even a sliver of hope that such a person might one day appear, he would have saved that space beside him.

But as things stood…

‘My luck couldn’t be better.’

Especially now, her existence was nothing short of a blessing.

His plan to seize the throne was perfectly laid out, but the situation wasn’t exactly going smoothly.

The Emperor’s loyalists were still hiding in the shadows.

The next phase was crucial.

If he could secure the Saintess’s power to turn back time, his chances of success would skyrocket.

‘To eliminate uncertainty, I must have her at all costs.’

She was the one who started talking about a fantasy involving a handsome man, so all he needed to do was play along.

He could act like a man in love, a romantic who wanted to cherish her.

Alesto knew better than anyone that to bind someone close, you first had to win their heart.

There were many ways to sway a heart, but for the Saintess, he chose love as his weapon.

He would pretend not to know about her power.

If he revealed that he did, she would only grow wary.

It was better to gain her trust first, to approach her as a man rather than a ruler.

And if he failed to possess her…

‘Then I’ll make sure no one else ever does.’

No matter what it takes.

* * *

Meanwhile, the Herman estate had erupted into chaos.

A letter had just arrived from Marquis Cedric Dalbert, stating that Asha had not appeared at the temple’s lavender garden.

Fridis Herman, former Saintess and Asha’s mother, staggered back in shock.

The maids around her rushed to catch her before she fell.

Fridis began to groan like someone who had been bedridden for months.

To her, Asha was the most precious treasure she had.

Especially now, when the Saintess’s divine power had yet to be revealed, her daughter’s worth was at its peak.

Of course, once Asha’s ability manifested, her value would rise even higher. But for now, this period of uncertainty made her the most valuable of all.