Chapter 117
Hestia’s eyes widened to their limit, round with shock. Her trembling lips barely parted as she managed to speak.
“Tha…nk… you…”
This was the one thing she absolutely had to say to him. Fearing that other emotions might overwhelm her, she carefully poured every heartfelt word into that single expression.
Only after meeting his gaze.
Only after seeing it reflected in his eyes.
Only after entrusting her entire heart to his voice.
Hestia let out a soft, relieved laugh, overwhelmed by an inexplicable sense of comfort.
Her mind was consumed by this unfamiliar feeling that was slowly seeping into her. Yet, strangely, she didn’t dislike it.
The voice she managed to force out trembled; her face burned red.
Even as a tingling sensation ran through her toes and her shoulders shivered violently, Hestia didn’t mind. Rather, she felt as if she were spinning and floating in the air, carried by a gentle floral breeze.
A shiver of worry coursed through her, mingling with a tremor that made her heart swell.
Fear of an unpredictable outcome collided with the sense of relief in surrendering to the drifting wind, facing the sky.
These conflicting, complex emotions raged endlessly within Hestia. Then, at that moment—
“Everything is as you wish.”
Clang!
Terhan dropped his sword from his hand.
“What… in the world—?”
The sudden event snapped her senses back to reality. She could now vividly feel the cacophony of voices and piercing gazes from the crowd.
Huff.
An intangible fear gripped Hestia’s breath. Her once bright eyes now trembled faintly with terror. Her parted lips refused to close, and her face turned pale in an instant as she wavered.
“Look at me, Hestia. Only me. Don’t think of anything else. Just focus on what you want to do. Only that.”
Terhan lightly supported Hestia’s hand holding the sword and her back, following her gaze as she lowered her head.
His soft voice awakened the shrinking Hestia. His warmth flowed through her hand.
As her vision filled with his gently smiling face, Hestia’s trembling subsided, and her wildly racing heartbeat began to find a steady rhythm.
Everything about Terhan seeped into her.
Like the moon filling the night sky.
Like sunlight coloring the leaves.
Like clouds spreading across a river.
Gradually.
Hestia finally began to notice the faces of everyone in the arena.
They weren’t jeering or condemning her; they were smiling warmly. Instead of spitting, they showered her with colorful petals.
“Ah…”
It felt as if the walls of darkness that had surrounded her collapsed entirely.
Her eyes grew hot with tears. Terhan’s warm smile blurred with moisture as it reached her.
Hestia lifted her other hand to wipe her tears with her sleeve, but—
“Not yet.”
Terhan was faster. With careful hands, he gently wiped away her tears, as if afraid to hurt her delicate eyes.
The tenderness of his gesture made Hestia feel as if she were something precious. A shy smile spread across her face.
She no longer doubted that his touch, his gaze, his expression—everything—was solely for her. Even without words, his heartfelt confession and shout were vividly clear.
Unable to contain her joy, Hestia smiled back at him with all her might. She couldn’t help but return the surge of warmth rising in her chest, as her heart surrendered to this unfamiliar sensation.
Or perhaps, to him.
“Th—the winner of the swordsmanship competition is—!”
At that moment, the announcer, snapped out of his daze, raised his hand in excitement and pointed directly at Hestia.
“Tia Rain—!!”
The crowd erupted in overwhelming cheers. The music honoring the victor began, and whistles cut across the arena.
Applause rained down without end, along with countless flowers that nearly covered Hestia’s feet.
How long had it been since she’d stood in such a reception?
Among people like this?
She couldn’t believe such a moment could even happen. Overwhelmed, she couldn’t think of anything else.
“Welcome back, my light.”
Terhan gently took the sword from her hand and placed a light kiss on the back of it.
“Ah.”
A wave of heat surged through Hestia’s body, blazing up from the sensation. She had no time to respond to Terhan’s sweet smile before it consumed her.
“The Great Empire! The Sun of Montania! His Majesty the Emperor!!”
At the highest point of the arena, the Emperor stood, casting a shadow of the sun.
The chaos in the arena fell silent. All eyes filled with expectation turned upward, and Hestia and Terhan knelt on one knee in respect toward the Emperor.
“You shall be recorded in the history of the Montania Empire as another legend. Are you prepared to bear this glory?”
His tone was languid, yet the authority behind it was immense.
Hestia drew a small breath, her red lips parting to speak her resolve.
“All that I am is for the glory of the Great Empire of Montania.”
Her clear voice resonated, and the arena once again erupted with awe and astonishment.
“She… she’s a woman?”
“She’s a woman?!”
“Oh my! How amazing!”
The Emperor, Cassius, narrowed his eyes in interest, then raised a hand to quiet the crowd.
“Speak of the world you wish to see.”
Tens of thousands of astonished eyes now focused on Hestia. The world around her was so silent, she could hear the wind.
Hestia gripped Terhan’s hand under her robe, then released it, slowly standing up.
Then—
Thud.
The black robe that had concealed her fell to the ground, flimsy and insignificant, as if the walls that had frightened her were nothing.
“I…”
All eyes now scanned Hestia from head to toe. Crimson hair flowing to her waist, bright brown eyes like the warmth of the sun, a worn shirt, and brown pants.
Her delicate frame, seemingly too slight to wield a sword against seasoned opponents, drew everyone’s attention. She looked elegant and pure, so much so that some thought she might crumble like a flower.
Hestia licked her dry lips and whispered,
“I hope there are no others who are imprisoned for sins they did not commit.”
The world she had only imagined, unreachable, now lay before her. She faced it with hope, a desperate wish to stand proudly among them.
“…Is that your world?”
A life confined under unjust charges, living as if guilty—that had been Hestia’s reality. Countless past emotions rose thickly from her depths.
“Yes.”
She did not lower her head.
No longer would they torment her. No longer would they manipulate her. She straightened her hunched shoulders, standing taller than ever.
“Hmm.”
A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched the Emperor’s lips. But under the shadow of the sun, no one noticed.
Only Lorant, directly beneath the Emperor, mirrored the smile. The boldness of this seemingly young lady reminded him of someone long ago.
Just as the Emperor was about to speak, breaking his long silence—
“She’s a witch!!”
The firm declaration shattered the quiet. Gasps echoed, and wide eyes turned in one direction.
“Felix Presto.”
“The very witch who served Terhan!!”
Despite the Emperor’s warning, Felix sprang to his feet, a crooked smirk on his lips, and jeered at Hestia.
There was no doubt.
It was the same gaze he had encountered long ago in a moonlit corridor.
A gaze that looked down on everything. A gaze that would never submit. The one woman who could have belonged to him.
“Reina Werner.”
The witch had finally fallen into his hands.
“Eek!!”
“It’s really her!!”
“A witch… a real witch!”
Those who scrutinized Hestia at Felix’s words finally gasped in shock.
A thrill surged through Felix, and he could not hide his smile.
“The swordsmanship competition victory must have been rigged. Or she was bewitched by that witch’s magic.”
Otherwise, there was no way such a fragile body could win. Nodding and murmuring low jeers, the crowd began to echo Felix’s disbelief.
This was human nature. Before the clouds had passed, the cheers had already turned to jeers.
“…”
The bitter taste in Hestia’s mouth made her clench her trembling hands and bite her lips.
Having anticipated even worse, she could not back down now.
As she parted her lips to declare her innocence to the Emperor with a resolute gaze—
“I will prove it.”
Terhan rose and stood beside her.
“There is not a trace of falsehood in my sword, nor in the steps I took. All of it is truth.”
Terhan’s radiant gaze fixed on Felix. His golden eyes transformed into the fierce glare of a lion, brimming with ferocity.
“This is a festival representing the Montania Empire. Are you aware, First Prince, that you are denying its legitimacy? If you have objections to the winner, why not personally verify the meaning of this swordsmanship competition?”
Whether he has the skill or not is another matter.
Terhan smirked, picked up his sword from the ground, and slid it back into its scabbard. Polite, yet fierce, it was a clear warning to all.
The tens of thousands in the stands were already in a stir, swallowing hard and rolling their eyes in anticipation.
Even those swayed by Terhan’s words had no side to take, only cautious uncertainty.
