An older woman in her sixties woke to the sound of loud voices—men shouting nearby.
Her eyes fluttered open.
She was trapped inside a dark, box-like space. Her hands and feet were tied, and a cloth gag was stuffed in her mouth. She tried to move, but the ropes held firm.
She had been kidnapped.
But by whom?
There were many who might want her dead.
After all, she had raised Saintess Alya from childhood. That alone was enough to make her a target.
Her thoughts drifted back to the last time she saw Alya—the soft, kind face of the girl she had raised like her own.
"Nanny, my fate is sealed," Alya had said gently. "But you still have a chance. Please… live for me."
Alya had given her a small, locked box and told her that, in time, it would protect her.
The old woman hadn't wanted to leave. She had wanted to stay and die with the girl she loved like a daughter. But Alya wouldn't let her.
So she had run, ashamed and crying.
Now, tied up and gagged, the nanny closed her eyes.
Maybe this was punishment.
Maybe the gods were angry that she had abandoned their chosen child.
If this were her fate, she would accept it.
---
Far away, in the imperial palace…
Saintess Aileen sat in the drawing room, sipping tea with four powerful men: Crown Prince Cassion, Second Prince Leon, Duke Theon of the South and High Priest Samiel.
"By now, they should've arrested the fake," High Priest Samiel said with a satisfied nod.
"Disgusting," Prince Leon added. "Pretending to be a Saintess… she should be executed."
Aileen kept her eyes on her teacup, her hands trembling slightly.
Crown Prince Cassion noticed. He leaned toward her.
"Don't worry about her," he said. "She made a deal with the demon god. She brought this on herself."
"I know," Aileen whispered. "But… she hasn't hurt anyone. In fact, she's helped many people. I don't think she deserves to die."
"She stole what rightfully belongs to you," Duke Theon said coldly. "For that alone, she deserves death."
The others nodded in agreement.
Aileen bit her lip and lowered her gaze, clearly troubled. She didn't say anything more.
Cassion stood and walked over to her, gently wrapping his arm around her shoulders.
"Don't think about her anymore," he said.
Aileen gave a quiet nod and leaned into his embrace.
But just then—
The doors slammed open.
A servant burst into the room, pale and breathless.
"How dare you interrupt us?" Duke Theon shouted, furious.
"M-My apologies, Your Grace," the servant stammered. "But this is urgent, Duke Soren of the North has arrived. He's currently having an audience with the king."
"What?" Aileen gasped, rising from her seat.
---
Inside the throne room, Duke Soren knelt before the emperor.
"I greet the great sun of the empire," he said with his head bowed low.
The emperor—a man well into his fifties, with a growing bald spot and a round belly—smiled warmly at the duke.
"Rise," the emperor said. "Tell me, what brings you here?"
Soren stood. "Your Majesty, I've come regarding the matter of the so-called false Saintess, Alya."
The emperor's smile faded. He frowned.
"That fake?"
"With all due respect, Your Majesty," Soren said calmly, "that 'fake' holds power equal to the true Saintess. If we execute her, we throw all that power away."
Soren knew exactly who he was talking to.
The emperor didn't just crave wealth. He craved power—and feared losing it.
The emperor stroked his beard, thinking.
"That may be true… but her power comes from the Demon God. Using it would be heresy. The people would never allow it."
"True, Your Majesty," Soren agreed smoothly, "but what if we used her power for war? With her healing abilities, our army would be unstoppable. As for the people… we can stage a trial, sentence her publicly, and let the truth stay hidden."
That got the emperor's attention.
He had always dreamed of conquering the Magic Kingdom and the Elemental Kingdom. And Soren's words painted a tempting picture.
Still, something didn't sit right. The Duke of the North was known for being honorable, even kind. It was strange to hear such cold, calculating ideas coming from his mouth.
But the emperor brushed the thought aside.
Soren continued, "We can break her spirit, work her hard in the mines, or lock her in the dungeon until she gives in. When her use runs out, we dispose of her quietly."
The emperor tapped his finger against the throne. The duke made sense… but he didn't want Alya anywhere near his sons. They already had the real Saintess Aileen on their side. They were powerful... too powerful.
He needed to hide her somewhere far from their reach.
His eyes lit up with an idea.
"It would be best if you kept her in the North," the emperor said.
Soren looked up in surprise, but only on the surface. Inside, he wasn't shocked at all.
The emperor didn't even trust his own children.
"Your Majesty?" Soren asked, feigning confusion.
"You may use her power as you see fit," the emperor said, "and in return, you will lead my army when the time for war comes."
Soren hesitated, pretending to weigh the offer.
"As you wish, Your Majesty," he finally said.
The emperor gave a pleased smile.
"You may leave."
Soren bowed deeply, turned, and walked out of the throne room.
Fool, he thought. It'll take three months to prepare for war on that scale… but after just one, this empire will start to rot from the inside. Forget war, the emperor will be lucky if the people don't hang him in the streets.
---
Outside the audience chamber, Jeffrey stood silently, waiting for his lord.
He didn't know what had gotten into Soren.
Had he gone mad?
Saintess Aileen had saved the North with her miracles. Everyone knew that. She had brought warmth, harvests, and hope.
Now it seemed Duke Soren was ready to betray her.
Jeffrey clenched his fists. He was torn between his loyalty to his lord and his loyalty to the North's future.
Then he heard footsteps.
He turned.
Down the corridor came the Crown Prince, the Second Prince, Duke Theon, High Priest Samiel… and Saintess Aileen.
Jeffrey bowed as the group approached.
"I greet the—" he began, but the crown prince cut him off.
"Is the duke inside? Why is he meeting with the emperor?"
Jeffrey hesitated. He didn't know how to answer. But then he remembered everything the duke had done for the North. In that moment, Jeffrey decided to trust his lord's plans.
"Is there trouble in the North? Does Duke Soren need my help?" Saintess Aileen stepped forward with a gentle smile.
She was stunning—black hair, golden eyes, and the mark of the saintess glowing on her forehead. She had noble blood, the daughter of a high-ranking marquis, but had given up her riches to serve the temple. Unlike Saintess Alya, Aileen had been accepted by everyone.
Jeffrey didn't understand why his lord believed she wasn't the true saintess. Before he could speak, the doors to the audience room opened, and Duke Soren stepped out.
Aileen hurried over to him.
"Your Grace! I just heard of your arrival. Would you like to catch up over a cup of tea?"She wanted to know what he and the emperor had discussed, and why he hadn't reached out to her since arriving in the capital. The last time they met, Soren had been kind and attentive, even eager. Now, he felt cold.
"I'm sorry, Your Holiness, but I have urgent matters to attend to," Soren said, walking past her without meeting her eyes.
Jeffrey was stunned. His lord's change in attitude was sudden and harsh.
The others were just as surprised, but no one stopped him. If Soren stepped back, it was one less rival for Aileen's heart.
Saintess Aileen stared after him, confused and hurt. She didn't know what had changed, but she prayed it would pass.
---
The duke descended into the underground prison beneath the imperial palace. The air was damp and heavy with silence. In one of the cells knelt Saintess Alya, her hands clasped in prayer, eyes shut tight. Her long white hair and robes gleamed like light against the filthy, dark cell walls.
This was the first time Soren had ever come to see her. In all his past lives, shame had kept him away. He had once believed in Aileen, stood by her while she quietly stirred rebellion within the temple. When Alya had sent him a letter, pleading for help to prove her innocence, he had ignored it. She had trusted him, and he had turned his back on her.
Even now, it was hard to look her in the eye.
"I greet Your Holiness, the Saintess," Soren said with a respectful bow.
Alya's eyes opened slowly. She looked up, startled. She hadn't expected to see him.
"I've come because of the letter you sent. I've prepared your defense. I won't let them kill you," he said, watching her closely.
Alya rose to her feet, her expression unreadable. Her voice was quiet. "Why?"
"Because you are the true Saintess of the Empire," Soren said, steady and sure.
Alya stared at him for a long time… and then let out a soft laugh.
"You must be joking," she whispered.
He heard it. Still, he remained calm.
"This is the will of the gods, Duke Soren," she said with a faint smile. "I have no wish to fight it."
"You know this isn't what the gods want," Soren said, stepping closer. "If it were, why would you send your nanny away with your holy robes? For protection?"
Her eyes widened slightly. She understood immediately... he had found her nanny. He knew what she had tried to hide.
But the smile on her face didn't disappear.
"As I said," Alya repeated, her voice calm, almost kind, "this is the will of the gods. I don't want to be saved."