COTP 10

Chapter 10

At his question, I had to look up at him, frozen stiff.

Divorce, he said.

I realized too late that what I had said could be interpreted that way.

But something even heavier was waiting for me. Whatever form it took, the end between this world and me would inevitably be a farewell.

I was the one who would leave, and he was the one who would be left behind.

— I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.

He firmly rejected my request.

Then, as if in disbelief, he added:

— That is something that can never happen.

— ……

— Once you came to me, you became mine entirely. If I had even the slightest intention of letting you go, I never would have proposed marriage to begin with.

As I looked up at his cold face, I murmured softly:

— …I am not someone who needs Your Highness’s permission.

— You’re speaking nonsense, my lady.

— Nonsense? I am a ‘seer.’ The only one whose permission I need is God’s.

At my words, spoken like a weak excuse, his lips curled in a crooked smile.

That expression, unfamiliar to me, felt like an attack.

— Before you are a follower of God, you are my wife. Do not try to cross that line.

The line. That wretched line.

The unspoken boundary he had drawn between us again and again with his actions. But this was the first time he said it so bluntly.

— Then will Your Highness grant me my wish?

— Wish?

He repeated the word, then laughed aloud as if it was absurd.

— So you have something you want too.

As if I wouldn’t.

Repeating the thought in my head, I quietly lowered my eyes.

— So then, if you return to the kingdom, is there someone who will grant your wish?

— ……

Had it been any other time—my usual self—I would’ve said “No,”

Accepted reality quietly, without resistance.

That truth had always been self-evident.

There was no reason to let it hurt me again, no point in dwelling on it, no reason to revisit the broken relationship between me and the man I called father.

And yet now, his simple question tore at my chest.

— Do you believe His Majesty the King will grant your wish?

Though I gave no answer, he continued, like driving in a nail.

It felt like a spike was being hammered into my heart—I had to look at him with tear-filled eyes.

I barely held back the surge of sobs.

Even if I voiced what I wanted, even if I told him I would die tomorrow—

No one knew better than I that the man who gave me life would not blink an eye.

That man never once thought of me as his child.

“You went too far,” I wanted to say. “Did you have to phrase it like that? It hurt…”

— It doesn’t have to be His Majesty who grants my wish.

I already know this truth too well, there’s no need to remind me, no need to rip open my wounds this way.

It hurts.

— I understand perfectly… what Your Highness meant.

It hurts.

— And of course, you are right. His Majesty never wanted me.

It hurts…

— He probably wouldn’t even want me to return to the kingdom now. And if I did, I’d still be treated like a burden.

The words that weighed on my chest never left my lips.

Had I not crumbled like this, I wouldn’t have even cared about such “truths.”

— But still, I never lacked for anything in the kingdom. The temple was mine. If I wished for something, could they dare ignore my command?

— And yet, are you saying you lack something here?

His gaze grew dark and ominous.

A sharp, bitter laugh slipped through his lips.

— Then tell me: What is it that you lack?

He asked what it was that he failed to give me.

Then, with biting sarcasm:

— Ah, yes. The noble princess of the western kingdom must’ve suffered so much, lowering herself to live in a mere duchy. Forgive me for not realizing that sooner.

— I hope Your Highness won’t misunderstand. I never said anything of the sort.

I had to deny it firmly.

Whether in the kingdom or here, I’d always lived a life of material abundance.

From the moment I became a princess, I received everything I was entitled to.

And yet—

— What Your Highness speaks of, and what I mean, are not the same kind of ‘lack.’

— Then let me ask the same: What is it that you say you lack?

It was the same question as before, but this time, it hit me like a punch to the chest.

What was it that was so broken in me?

Why had I always felt the world was colorless?

Even I didn’t know the answer.

But if I had to name it—what I had always been missing was simply… a heart.

A heart I could not explain.

I just stared at him for a while.

Did he think I was avoiding the conversation?

With a long sigh, he asked again:

— What is it that you want?

This time, my answer was clear.

Life. To live.

How strange.

One philosopher described humans as travelers journeying toward death.

By that logic, my short journey was just coming to an end.

I had never thought of myself as clinging to life before, but now—I couldn’t accept that simple definition.

At last, I opened my mouth.

— I want…

Looking back, perhaps I had nothing to fear.

This painful life would end, and I would fall into the merciful arms of God.

I would be returning to the only peaceful time of my life—my mother’s side.

— I want… something Your Highness could never grant me.

And yet, I still wanted to keep living this barren life a little longer.

It was a desire I didn’t even understand myself.

But even so—I simply wanted to live.

— Now that you’ve said that… it makes it even more impossible.

His tone was even more resolute than mine.

— That is something I will never allow. Do not ever say such things again.

— Your Highness…

— Or shall I go to His Majesty and request an exile order for you?

A threat, proud and bold.

Exiling me—one of only three people in a generation who could interpret divine language—meant breaking ties with the temple.

My position wasn’t strong, but it wasn’t nothing.

Even the king couldn’t grant such a request lightly. And yet, he said it so easily.

There must be a reason he could speak like that—and it only made my heart even more unsettled.

Something I had barely been holding back finally snapped.

And so the words came out, biting and bitter:

— Your Highness… you must be so fortunate.

— …What do you mean by that?

— Even though I’m blood, even if I’m a bastard, I can’t even speak to His Majesty. But you—just one word, and you have his approval.

I clenched my fists.

I remembered what the king had given me:

Contempt, jealousy, scorn, and cold indifference.

Not a single warm memory.

And then I remembered how the king treated him:

The warmth, the trust, the affection—the things he never gave me.

I had thought it didn’t matter, but looking back… it had all been wounds.

If I didn’t call them wounds, I could pretend they didn’t hurt. That’s all it was.

— It’s as if you were His Majesty’s child. Not me.

— ……

At those barely held-back words, he looked down at me with a strange expression.

Silence fell between us.

And in that oppressive quiet, he finally muttered:

— Do you… really not know?

— …Pardon?

— I see. Of course you wouldn’t.

— Your Highness?

I could only call to him in blank confusion.

No one had ever told me anything. There was nothing I could know.

— Between people, nothing comes without cost. You give something, you expect something in return. That’s how it was between His Majesty and me.

His words sounded like such a cold, transactional relationship.

But then—

— His Majesty needed to get rid of his blemish and his burden—and he handed it over to me. Naturally, he can’t ignore my words now, out of guilt.

His blemish. His burden.

There was only one thing those words could mean.

I blinked blankly.

I couldn’t even process the deluge of meaning that had just crashed over me.

— …I see.

My fingers dug into my palms.

A sticky sensation crawled down my hands and soaked into the sheets.

— I see Your Highness has worked hard, handling His Majesty’s disgrace all this time. On behalf of His Majesty, I offer you my thanks.