Hestia looked intently at Aslan before lowering her gaze to her wrist, which he held.

Strangely, his grip felt reassuringly stable.

“Of course, I knew,” she said softly.

“So why?”

Aslan’s voice was sharp, demanding an answer.

Taking her time, Hestia eventually lifted her chin and looked at Aslan, her eyes widening without any hidden intent. Aslan felt himself stiffen like stone at her unadorned smile.

“Just because. You were the first person I thought of.”

She knew it wasn’t a satisfactory answer for him, but she had no other way to explain it.

Gently twisting her wrist, Hestia freed herself from his grasp, too easily given his strong grip. She left Aslan with that confusing response and turned away.

Her expression seemed without regret, but Aslan’s was not.

He felt a wild urge to delve into her mind, to unravel whatever she was thinking.

“Have a good night. I’m leaving now.”

Aslan knew her night’s wish was futile, as he would spend the entire night restless, filled with thoughts of her.

After returning to the palace before dawn, Hestia spent a quiet day and then requested a private meeting with Yorgos.

“What do you want to talk about that you needed to see me alone?” Yorgos asked, apparently annoyed at having his rare break interrupted.

Hestia started with a word of thanks, keeping her composure despite Yorgos’ prickly demeanor.

“Thank you for your time.”

“I recently received a prophecy, Your Highness,” she revealed.

“What? Why hasn’t the temple announced it yet?”

“It’s… very personal.”

Hestia calmly informed Yorgos that she would die in a year.

“Is that true?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

She nodded naturally, feeling fortunate she could deceive Yorgos as she had the high priests.

“Thank you for telling me in advance.”

Yorgos fell silent, unsure what to say to his niece, who had received her death prophecy.

After struggling to find appropriate words, he asked an unexpected question, “But Hestia, do you really have to resign as the saint?”

His displeasure was thinly veiled, likely hoping she’d continue to bridge the royal and temple duties until her death.

Hestia took a short breath before responding calmly, “There’s already a new saint, Annetta, in the temple. I don’t think my presence will be missed much.”

“Hmm.”

“I think announcing my resignation from the sainthood would better preserve the royal family’s dignity.”

“That makes sense,” Yorgos conceded, stroking his chin roughly.

“The temple should be more cunning.”

After a moment, he turned back to Hestia, “So, what do you plan to do after leaving the temple?”

“I just want to live quietly for the rest of my life.”

“That’s not a bad idea. How about retiring to the estate you inherited?”

Yorgos’ suggestion was practical, offering her a peaceful retreat.
“I’ll consider that as well.”

“Yes, go ahead. I need to think too.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

After bowing politely, Hestia returned to her room and slumped into a chair, exhausted. Her silver hair cascaded like a waterfall as she tilted her head slightly and caught her breath.

Her energy was quickly draining.

‘I need to make a decision soon.’

Aslan, who had firmly rejected her proposal, would never change his mind now, even if the world were to collapse. She felt powerless, knowing that her existence could stir his anger but not enough to reverse his decision.

Sighing, Hestia pushed her tangled hair behind her ears.

“Whom should I marry?”

The frustration was evident in her voice.

Ideally, she wouldn’t marry at all. But to avoid being manipulated by the royal family and the temple, there seemed no other choice.

Boasting to Aslan about finding another man, she now lacked alternatives. No other nobles could protect her from the royal family and the temple like Aslan could.

“It’s most likely going to be with Lord Stefan.”

Annetta would bless their union.

Regardless of her will, the marriage would proceed, and like in her previous life, she’d face a hollow death on her wedding day.

“If it’s inevitable, it might not be a bad idea to win over Lord Stefan…”

The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced there had been some deal between him and Annetta in her previous life. Maybe this time, she should offer Stefan a more tempting bait than Annetta.

Biting her lip, she tasted blood in her mouth.

Then, a knock came from outside her room.

“Come in.”

Upon her permission, the door opened, and Angela peeked in.

“Princess, do you have a moment?”

“Yes, Angela. What’s it?”

Hestia greeted her maid with a smile. Angela stepped in fully, respectfully bowing and cautiously stating her purpose.

“I’m sorry to disturb you. There’s someone from the temple here to see you urgently… What should we do?”

“From the temple? Who is it?”

Hestia’s eyes widened in surprise, then she frowned, unable to think of anyone who might visit her from the now Annetta-centered temple.

“It’s High Priest Boswa.”

“Oh.”

Hestia’s eyelids slowly closed and reopened.

Angela guessed that Hestia was not keen on Boswa’s visit, judging by her unenthusiastic response.

“Should I ask him to come back later since he didn’t contact us in advance?”

Angela, as a maid, found it difficult to turn away a high priest.

“No, it’s okay.”

Hestia quickly shook her head, struggling to stand up.

“Is he in the parlor?”

“Yes. But are you sure? You look pale.”

“I’m fine. Really, no problem.”

After asking Angela to bring tea, Hestia made her way to the parlor alone.

Entering the inner room, she saw Boswa slowly rising to greet her.

“How have you been, Miss Hestia?”

Boswa smiled at her, but Hestia noticed a subtle shift in the atmosphere, though his manner seemed polite at first glance.
However, Hestia received Boswa without showing her own thoughts.

“Welcome, High Priest.”

Shortly after, Angela brought in the tea.

After taking a sip of tea, Hestia spoke up.

“Let’s skip the small talk and get straight to the point.”

“Heh,” the High Priest chuckled awkwardly.

He fidgeted with his interlocked hands before starting the conversation.

“After you moved to the royal palace, Miss Hestia, I had an important discussion with Miss Annetta.”

“I see.”

Anticipating the content, Hestia quietly smiled, fixating her gaze on the lower part of High Priest Boswa’s chin.

The High Priest cleared his throat a couple of times.

“Miss Annetta also received the same oracle as you,” he said.

Then Boswa sighed repeatedly.

“This is really something. I simply cannot grasp how things are unfolding.”

Hestia, without responding, just nodded her head while sipping her tea.

With this, the verification of the oracle was complete, and Hestia realized that the temple could no longer blatantly ignore her request.

Placing her teacup quietly on the saucer, Hestia finally faced Boswa properly.

She asked calmly, looking directly into the High Priest’s eyes.

“Now that its authenticity has been confirmed, you can accept my request, can’t you?”

“Well, Miss Hestia,” Boswa said, his expression troubled as he lifted the corners of his mouth.

“Miss Annetta received an additional oracle.”

Hestia gasped silently.

It seemed that Annetta had conveyed the idea of ‘marriage’.

“Miss Annetta beseeched the gods and found a way to extend your life.”