*** Prince Kyliam stumbled through the inner corridors of the Private King's Castle—a smaller, more secure structure built adjacent to the sprawling grounds of the main Royal Castle. The torches flickered along the walls, casting distorted shadows as he passed in a half-run. His breath came in ragged bursts, and sweat streamed down his temples despite the early evening chill. His formal coat hung askew from one shoulder, and his once-pristine trousers were soiled and creased. A humiliating testament to the ordeal he had endured before the court.

The courtiers had not dared to impede him.

No guard had barred his path.

Seyka's overwhelming presence seared into his mind, each memory scraping at his composure. Every step he took toward his father's chamber felt like a desperate tether to the last shreds of his sanity.

He burst into a side chamber within the King's private wing, nearly colliding with a royal aide who had barely enough time to bow. Beyond the arched double doors stood the Queen Consort, already beside her husband. She wore her brown hair in a stylized chignon, her head lowered, a delicate handkerchief trembling in her hand as she pressed it against her mouth.

The King sat upon a long, carved chair, his posture slumped, one leg propped up on a velvet-cushioned stool. His vivid red hair, which looked slightly disheveled, caught the magical lamp's light like smoldering embers. Despite his regal garments and the golden circlet adorning his head, King Liam appeared more like a wounded Noble than the glorious ruler of their Kingdom. His piercing blue eyes, usually so commanding and calm, seemed now shadowed with fatigue and fury.

Prince Kyliam, who was to his utter shame still adorned in garments that bore the stain of his disgrace, rushed forward and asked after his father's health. His vivid blue eyes showed deep concern as he knelt beside his father.

However, the King dismissed the question with a curt wave of his hand.

"Not now. Speak," he ordered flatly. "I gather you came for the same reason as your mother."

Uncertain, Kyliam turned towards his adoptive mother. She gave him an encouraging nod, her expression composed but troubled. In that moment, he was grateful once more that she adopted him after his birth mother passed away so many decades ago. The Queen hailed from the same land as his gentle mother and even shared her bloodline. His father had married her in continuation of his alliance with Kyliam's maternal homeland.

His adoptive mother had played a vital role in facilitating Kyliam's courtship with the radiant Saintess Daphne, a woman who had showered him with affection, lavish gifts, and what he had believed to be genuine love.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Gathering his breath, Kyliam recounted all that had transpired. He described the Saint's disturbing power and the actions of her treacherous aide. He urged the King to act swiftly against the mad Saint and her supporters who were growing slowly in number.

However, the King looked unimpressed by his son's speech and his face betrayed an evident dislike of what he had just heard. The royal ruler's advisers bore equally grim expressions. Something must have happened. Kyliam just did not know what.

At last, King Liam spoke.

"No. We shall not make another move." He gestured bitterly toward his propped-up leg. "Look at my leg."

A heavy silence fell.

Then, with sudden force, the King's voice erupted.

"Her Patron Gods broke my leg! Divine Will, apparently. Gods' Judgment," he spat, the words laced with disgust. "Because I failed to welcome their Saint as I was expected to. And you—" his glare snapped toward the Queen, "—you promised you would handle her reception with care. You assured me you would keep Kyliam under control. Instead, you helped him. Worse, you involved your own relatives."

His tone turned colder still. "And as if that were not enough, you insisted that insipid water girl from your homeland was a Saint, when she is clearly not. She possesses neither Sanctioned Magic nor Holy Skills. Nothing."

He paused, his eyes narrowing.

"I had it confirmed by Saint Seyka's Patron Gods themselves. Daphne is aligned almost exclusively with Fallen or downgraded Gods—beings who no longer have the authority to bestow such power since that right was forever denied to them."

The King gave a loud, exhausted sigh and accepted a crystal glass of water from a silent aide. He took a slow sip, visibly relieved by the faintly glowing enchantment within, a trace of Magic Rejuvenating effect soothing his body. Then he continued, voice now cold and heavy.

"You have both greatly disappointed me. First Kyliam, with his obsessive attachment to that nobody, Daphne. I was compelled to recognize her as a Saint, even though she is obviously a fake. And do you know what I had just discovered? Daphne is a complete fraud. We were duped by her Church." His gaze pierced through them. "Can you actually believe that the other Gods of her Church, those still in power, did not send us their real Saints or Sainted Ones fearing we might corrupt and mistreat them? This is how much distrust Kyliam has sown among his own Church. They sent us a fake thinking we would not know the difference. And they were right. We could not tell. I was blinded by both your words and did not investigate the matter as I should have."

Kyliam recoiled, gasping softly. His father must be mistaken. He had seen Daphne use her power on more than one occasion and she has always worn her Holy bracelet from the moment she first stepped in his life.

The Queen looked utterly stunned then her expression changed to resignation as the truth finally sank in. She herself had doubts about Daphne but could no longer doubt her after the gifts Daphne had presented upon her arrival. Those could have only come from a Saintess. Then there was the Holy and Sanctioned Blood Test. Daphne had passed it brilliantly. Something was strange. Could Magic have been at work to deceive them? Earlier, she had seen what true Holy power looked like and it had been a terrifying discovery.

Seyka might be a monster but she had the appropriate powers that qualified her as a Saint.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.