Blessing Day passed without incident. Yet for some reason, I was oddly uneasy, but I convinced myself it was nothing. I was Saint Valentina, cherished and worshipped by all. Everything was under my control, and soon I would be completely out of the novel’s grasp.
Finally, it was almost over. The crisp cold air of New Day refreshed me, and I felt excited in the rush of preparations. Golden sunlight peeked from over the horizon, illuminating the temple in a heavenly haze. The earliest worshippers were already here, I could hear the bustle from the courtyards, and it would not be long before the ceremony began.
I was in my bedchamber, savouring these last moments of peace, when a frantic knock came at my door. Annoyed at the impudence, but considerate of the fact that the junior priests that served me here were after all priests and not servants, I merely frowned when the girl that usually attended me bursted in.
“Apologies, Your Holiness, but there is something you ought to see.”
“Can it not wait?”
“I would not be here if it could, Your Holiness.”
The girl was one of ours, personally picked and trained by Zoe, who I trusted in producing competent subordinates. We had a network of eyes throughout the temple, and I’d rather rely on them than the temple. I got up.
She swiftly led me through halls and passages I knew from maps, towards the exterior portion of the temple that was open to visitors, but a secluded region I had never explored. The clamour slowly faded as we got further away from where most of the temple’s population was gathered and busying away. It could not be an ambush, for the temple had been thoroughly vetted and was fit with the best security in the kingdom for the occasion, and the girl herself I could overpower easily. Nevertheless, I was tense.
At last, she brought me to a small open courtyard. I winced at the bright sunlight, was concerned that I might not make it back in time for the ceremony, and shivered in the cold air. However, physical comforts were quickly forgotten when I saw what was in the courtyard. Or rather, who.
- - -
Catherine arrived at the temple early with Father, who was still distraught from the argument with Lady Bryant, the guilt of which she bore heavily and miserably. Perhaps Lady Bryant was right. She and Lady Briana were his real family, and she was just some girl he picked off the street.
No, she couldn’t think like that! Catherine shook herself as they entered the great chamber. Father had already given up so much for her that she must be brave and make him proud, however impossible that may seem at the present.
“Go find a place for us, Catherine. I’ll be with you shortly.”
Father did not look at her when he spoke, his attention captured by Lady Bryant and Lady Briana, who were already praying faithfully across the room. He went to them, and she, with a pang to her heart, stood still awkwardly for a moment. Before she could set out on her task, much to her surprise, a priest approached her.
“Please come this way, Lady Catherine. Someone wishes to see you.”
Her eyes widened. Who could possibly want to see her? Especially in her current state… she recoiled whenever she saw her own skin or reflection in the mirror. Still, priests were the messengers of God, so they probably knew better than her. She glanced over at Father, but he was completely engrossed with his family and she didn’t think he’d be worried, so she nodded.
The priest led her to a doorway, and gestured for her to enter. He retreated as she did and closed the door after her, which made her nervous. She found herself in a small courtyard with a stone fountain in the middle, its water frozen, and a tall familiar figure standing next to it.
“Y-your Highness?”
The figure turned, and she instinctively backed away from that stone-cold complexion, handsome as ever. Her gut twisted. She shouldn’t be here. They hadn’t interacted since that horrifically embarrassing scene in her bedroom, and Catherine’s cheeks grew hot just at the memory of it. She couldn’t exactly remember what she’d said under the influence of the fever, but she recollected enough to regret it severely and to be ashamed of herself.
“Lady Catherine. Come.”
As usual, she could not discern any trace of emotion from Prince Oscar’s voice. Hesitatingly, she obeyed, stopping a respectable distance away from him. He stepped closer, and when she tried to back away, he grabbed her arm. His touch felt like lightning, but against her will, she wished it would last. Her heart pounded.
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“Are you aware that during your illness, I visited you?”
Desperately, she’d prayed that it had just been a dream, but there seemed to be no hope of that now. She nodded, lowering her gaze to not meet his eyes.
“I’m sorry if I said anything inappropriate, Your Highness! I didn’t know what I was doing, and I-I-I… well, I wish nothing but the best for Your Highness and Lady Valentina!”
“Oh?”
Prince Oscar let go of her arm, and part of Catherine wanted to run immediately, but her feet were glued to the ground. He lifted her veil. Her breath quickened, and she could see the little clouds it formed in the cold air. She trembled as she felt him scrutinize her, recalling how even she herself flinches whenever she sees her own scarred skin.
To her utter horror, and making her almost faint, he reached out a hand and gently stroked her cheek. It was cold against her flushed skin. Catherine quivered.
“It was a regrettable decision for me also. However, since you now know, there is no more need for concealment on my part.”
How could he say such words with such an emotionless tone! Carefully, Catherine lifted her gaze, butterflies fluttering in her stomach in the worst possible way. Prince Oscar had closed the gap between them, and leaned so close that if she just went a little further, their lips would meet. Yet his golden eyes did not contain the pride of his status nor the adoration they reserved for Lady Valentina. They merely had a blank haze, and that hurt her even more.
“There is no point hiding before God,” he muttered.
Then, he embraced her, and she really thought her heart might explode. Her mind was even emptier than usual, and she couldn’t breathe. Through the layers of clothing, she could not feel any natural warmth, only that she was entrapped, but not unwillingly so.
“I want to make you mine.”
After an unknown quantity of time, when at last she could process things well enough to command her voice, her jumbled thoughts bursted out in the only word she could muster.
“W-why?”
For a moment he was silent.
“I wish I knew. Perhaps it is merely that you are not after my crown.”
“H-how could you know that?”
“You are too simple for it.”
Catherine closed her eyes, leaning against the prince’s chest. Slowly, despising herself, she wrapped her arms around him. All she could make out was that for some odd reason, Prince Oscar was under the false impression that Lady Valentina only loved his crown, and she just happened to say the wrong things at the wrong time for them to end up like this.
She was taking advantage of a misunderstanding between them. God, how she hated herself! In the holy temple, of all places, she felt as dirty as the worst sinner in the world. How could she do this to her only friend? One of the only people to ever show kindness to someone as undeserving as her? Had she no conscience?
Alas, wasn’t this what Father wanted all along? Catherine couldn’t understand it at all, Uncle and Father’s intricate plans. All she knew was that they wanted the best for her, and that she must obey them. Was she just looking for excuses? But they did not alleviate her guilt in the slightest, and only served to prolong her sin.
Selfishly, she embraced him, wishing that he would never let go, and praying for God’s forgiveness and that Lady Valentina never finds out.
- - -
I sank to the ground.
Instinctively, I reached to touch my engagement ring, forgetting that all worldly jewellry had been abandoned for the ceremony. I had gotten used to its weight and frequently touched it for comfort, to remind myself of how far I’d come. I would’ve appreciated its presence just now.
My nails dug into the stone-hard ground, and I leaned against the large pillar blocking me from their view, facing away from them. I could not hear most of their conversation, but I had seen enough. A ray of sunlight hit me in the eyes, and I had to close them for a second. When I reopened them, I checked that the pair did not notice me, and slipped away.
“Let us hurry. The ceremony will begin soon.”
I wiped my eyes, where a single stray tear had betrayed me, and straightened my gown. The junior priest was professional, as expected of an auxiliary of my House, and did not try to observe my reaction. She quickly brought me back to my chambers, where Priest Fernandez was fairly panicking in private, but had covered up my absence to all outside inquiries. I thanked him and promised an explanation later.
Perhaps it was the cold, but all I felt at the moment was numb. Ever since the very beginning, I had been prepared for this, and my plans were so immaculate that it really did not affect much. Nevertheless, violent, fervent rage boiled in some distant part of me. It would rise and demand an outlet later, but for now, I was the saint.
“We celebrate this second day of the new year, and we ask God for his blessings going forth. Today, New Day, is the last of the holy days, and for the remainder of this year, we shall swear to serve and obey God with honesty and integrity.”
The familiar ritual, as tedious as it was, almost pleased me as the crowds prayed with as much faith as the aristocracy could muster. It was a reminder of their reverence for the saint and reassured me of my influence, and took my mind off of what had just passed, allowing me to see things in a more rational perspective.
Yes, it was a new year, and by the end of this one, all would be over. Regardless of his affections, my plans would not be thwarted. The wheels were all turning, and no one could stop me now. Nevermind this newfound hollowness. It would be filled by my crown.