<Chapter 38>

Part 4

Rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle.

“Ugh…”

Inside the carriage bound for the North, Bishop Roam heaved deep sighs, his legs trembling incessantly. His thumb, bitten down to a ragged mess, bore the evidence of his nerves.

“Why the hell did it have to be me…?”

No one wanted to leave the safety of the capital, protected by divine barriers from monsters. Bishop Roam was no exception.

Delivering the Emperor’s congratulatory letter and gift to celebrate Duke Winstein’s wedding should have been the job of a messenger or a nobleman. A bishop, especially one of his rank within the Great Temple, had no business handling such tasks.

But at this moment, an imperial order was as good as a papal decree.

And for Roam, who had ambitions for the position of archbishop, defying the Emperor’s discreet command was not an option.

“Confirm whether Duke Winstein is truly holding a wedding, and whether the bride is indeed Inosensia, the Saintess candidate.”

The Emperor wanted verification: Was the bride truly Inosensia, the Saintess candidate, as reported? Or was a decoy being used to conduct the ceremony?

The importance of this confirmation forced Bishop Roam onto the carriage bound for the North—because he was listed as Inosensia’s guardian.

‘Guardian in name only, really…’

Roam cursed his foolish decision from years ago.

When Inosensia first entered the Great Temple as a Saintess candidate, her orphan status had seemed like an opportunity to him.

By sheer probability, her chances of becoming the Saintess were 1 in 4. It seemed like a gamble worth taking. He pulled every string he could to claim the position of her guardian.

But it hadn’t even been a few months before it became glaringly obvious: Inosensia was an empty vessel.

Her divine power was so minimal that even her selection as a Saintess candidate seemed baffling. Not only was it meager compared to the other candidates, but it was comparable to that of an ordinary priest.

Of course, becoming a Saintess wasn’t solely about the amount of divine power one possessed. However, Inosensia’s timid personality, frequent mistakes, and lack of social skills sealed her fate.

Those who stayed by her side were only there to exploit her, and even they eventually abandoned her once they realized she held no value.

“I can’t fathom how she became a Saintess candidate!”

“I’m a priest myself, but even I can’t make sense of the will of God.”

Everyone at the Great Temple agreed: While it wasn’t impossible for the most prominent candidate, Beatrice, to fail to become the Saintess, it was inconceivable for Inosensia to ascend.

Roam thought the same. He treated her as though she didn’t exist, resenting her for costing him a shot at advancement. Sometimes, his frustration even led him to torment her.

When word came that Inosensia was to become the Monster Duke’s bride and move to the North, he’d felt a twisted sense of relief…

‘Surely the Monster Duke wouldn’t blame me for sending him such a useless bride… right?’

A shudder ran through Roam’s body. Even someone like him, who rarely left the Great Temple, had heard the horrifying stories about the Monster Duke.

Temenos Winstein had earned the nickname “Monster Duke” twelve years ago, at the age of thirteen, when he came to the capital to inherit his title.

The North, despite being called the land of sinners, was vast—at least three or four times the size of the capital. And its ruler, the Duke of Winstein, held dominion over all of it.

But for the duke’s heir to be born with the traits of a monstrous demigod?

The North’s status as the land of sinners was known to all, but the origin of that reputation, the first Duke of Winstein, had long been forgotten. Temenos’ existence brought that history back into the spotlight, along with rumors that the late duke and duchess had been killed by their monstrous son.

People feigned pity while secretly reveling in the tragedy of the North. They speculated endlessly about whether the new duke had truly killed his own parents and what kind of monstrous traits he had inherited.

The day he made his first public appearance, someone used a magical device to strip him of his mask.

The throne room was filled with screams.

The left side of his face—his cheek, forehead, and jaw—was covered in reptilian scales. His left eye had a vertical slit for a pupil. Temenos’ visage was, without question, monstrous.

“We must kill it! That monster must be killed immediately!”

Chaos erupted as cries of fear and hatred filled the room. Only then did the Emperor restore order.

The use of a magical device in the Emperor’s presence was only possible because he allowed it. Yet he punished the noble responsible for the “prank” and offered Temenos a form of consolation.

“Losing your parents at such a young age must have left you without anyone to arrange your marriage. I, as your Emperor, will personally see to it.”

Of course, the Emperor’s words were far from a gesture of kindness.

Everyone present had seen Temenos’ monstrous traits firsthand, and those who hadn’t were soon exposed to wildly exaggerated rumors.

No noble wanted to send their daughter—or sister—beyond the protective barriers of the capital, let alone to a monstrous duke.

Yet an imperial decree left no room for refusal.

Panic swept through the capital. Nobles scrambled to arrange engagements for their unmarried daughters and sisters to avoid being chosen. Some even faked illnesses or crimes to keep them out of the running.

Despite these efforts, the Emperor struggled to find a bride for Temenos.

Ten years passed. By then, the Emperor was desperate.

The search for a bride brought chaos to the capital, with nobles doing everything they could to shield their daughters.

Eventually, the Emperor turned to the Pope for advice. The Pope, in turn, saw an opportunity to claim a treasure from the imperial vaults.

In exchange, the Pope offered the least suitable Saintess candidate: Inosensia.

And so, she became the third bride candidate sent to the North for the Monster Duke.

‘Poor girl. Sold by the Pope, bought by the Emperor, and married off to a monster without gaining anything for herself.’

Roam clicked his tongue in pity, though his sympathy was fleeting—his self-pity ran deeper.

‘It would be better if the wedding didn’t happen at all.’

If Inosensia fled, refusing to marry the Monster Duke, it would be the best outcome for Roam. He could return to the capital immediately.

But if the wedding proceeded, and the bride standing beside the Monster Duke was Inosensia herself…

“…You understand, don’t you? There mustn’t be any mistakes.”

Killing someone. Poisoning them at the wedding feast.

Despite all his corruption, Roam had never taken a life. The vial of poison hidden in his robes weighed heavily on his conscience.

“Ugh, my stomach…”

Clutching his chest, Roam looked gloomily out the window.

The silhouette of Winstein Castle loomed closer and closer.

Though Roam wished with all his heart that the journey would never end, the carriage continued forward, carrying him unrelentingly toward the duke’s domain.
 

<To be continued>

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