A Fortune-telling Princess - Chapter 168

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter. Festival of Abundance
“…Jainer?”
“Yeah, it’s been a while.”
A while? We saw each other just the other day!
Watching him greet me so casually, my mind went completely blank.
Why was he sitting there? And so confidently at that?
“This is the first time you’re seeing me from this side, isn’t it?”
“Ah…!”
He wasn’t here as the master of Khan.
His next words made me realize my mistake.
Now I understood the situation. He’d come here as the eldest son of Duke Escra’s household?
“Father told me to come see.”
Just as I’d suspected, Duke Escra’s name came from Jainer’s lips.
“Tsk.”
At the mention of Duke Escra, Duke Sorpel—who sat across from me as the host receiving his guest—habitually furrowed his brow.
I found myself thinking anew that there wasn’t a single thing about him that pleased me.
“Don’t tell me you’ve come to take my daughter away as well?”
“I was only ordered to watch over my sister from beside her.”
“Your sister?”
“Ah, if that offended you, I sincerely apologize.”
He spoke with polite courtesy and a somewhat sorrowful smile, and Duke Sorpel’s cold expression softened somewhat.
“Camilla has already become a precious sister to me… If my words displeased you, please forgive me.”
But his next words made his expression harden again. Was he really not going to drop this “sister” business?
Still, he seemed far more mannered than my father. I had to admit, that was impressive.
‘Don’t be fooled!’
It’s all an act!
Wow, I’d known for a while that this man had two faces, but I never expected it to be this extreme. He’s going to make me cry.
‘He could be an actor.’
Watching Jainer wear the most virtuous expression in the world, I shook my head in disbelief.
“So you’re staying here.”
“Would it be wrong for me to stay beside my sister?”
Jainer’s expression turned pitiful once more.
“One man leaves, and another arrives.”
Everyone in the room knew who he meant. Duke Sorpel clicked his tongue briefly and rose from his seat.
He glanced at Rube, the butler standing beside him, and issued a simple command.
“Prepare a room for him.”
“Yes, Master.”
Though displeased, he couldn’t simply throw out a guest who had come to see Camilla.
“Still, he seems better than my father.”
Father! Please don’t be deceived!
“Thank you.”
Rising from his seat alongside the others, Jainer maintained his impeccable noble bearing, bowing deeply with a radiant smile.
“Please wait here for a moment. I’ll have your quarters prepared shortly.”
“I appreciate it.”
The butler Rube promptly excused himself from the reception room.
“What is this? What’s going on?”
The moment the two men departed, Camilla fired off her questions in rapid succession.
“What’s with all this?”
Even Duke Escra had seemed taken aback—this sudden appearance was utterly bewildering! I couldn’t fathom what he intended by sweeping in like this.
“Hmm.”
Watching Jainer sink lazily into his chair with an indolent smile, I exhaled a short breath.
The courteous demeanor of a noble heir had vanished entirely, replaced by the seductive grin of the master of the Assassination Guild Kan.
“You certainly caused quite the commotion.”
“Commotion? Who? Me?”
“At the Jebillen Household.”
“That was…”
“I never expected you to handle that matter so directly yourself.”
Watching him chuckle with obvious amusement, I shook my head once more.
Father really should have seen him like this!
“You truly never cease to defy expectations.”
“I had no choice in the matter.”
Duke Jebillen still groaned whenever he laid eyes on me, unable to reach a decision about the Guardian Sword. The dilemma tormented him—to give it felt wasteful, yet to withhold it seemed disrespectful to the blade itself.
A predicament of his own making, really.
But then…
‘What about my opinion? Why won’t anyone ask what I think?’
Who was going to console him? Why was he even deliberating?
No matter how many times I insisted it wasn’t necessary, Duke Jebillen refused to listen.
“But truly, what brings you here?”
“Didn’t Father mention anything?”
“About what?”
“He was quite concerned when he learned you’d become entangled in such a dangerous situation the moment you returned to the Faebler Empire.”
“Him?”
He’d shown no sign of it whatsoever. During his time here, he hadn’t mentioned the Jebillen Household even once…
‘Ah, so that’s why.’
There had been a brief clash when Duke Jebillen came to the house to meet Duke Sorpel.
The moment Duke Jebillen appeared, I’d regarded him with unmistakable displeasure, and the confrontation had escalated into an argument.
‘Do you have something to say to me?’
‘I’m wondering what recompense you’ve offered.’
‘Recompense?’
‘A child risked her life to help you. I’m curious what you’ve done in return. Surely you haven’t simply wiped your hands clean of the matter?’
‘Brazen, utterly brazen?’
The intervention of those around us had prevented the quarrel from escalating into something far worse.
Back then, I’d shot him withering glares for stirring up needless trouble, but could it be he’d been preoccupied with the Jebillen Family affair all along?
“Father said he wouldn’t feel at ease unless I remained by your side.”
Only then did Camilla understand who ‘that man’ was—the one he’d let slip before departing. It seemed the decision had already been made by then.
“So you’re saying you’ll be clinging to this household for an extended stay, not just a brief visit?”
“Father explicitly instructed me to stay right beside you.”
“Sigh.”
“I look forward to working with you going forward.”
Camilla pressed her fingertips firmly against the bridge of her nose to quell the throbbing in her head.
The way he grinned with that infuriating smirk was absolutely unbearable. Should I demand exorbitant lodging fees?
“Besides, a commission came in from this region anyway. It’s been exhausting teleporting back and forth with magic circles every time, so this works out well.”
“A commission?”
If it’s a commission he’s accepting….
“Don’t worry. It’s not about killing innocent people.”
“So someone does die, then.”
At Camilla’s remark, Jainer’s eyes crinkled with amusement.
“It’s just a request to find some bad people and punish them.”
“Just don’t get caught.”
Camilla exhaled a short breath.
What would people say if they learned the leader of Khan was staying at the Sorpel Household?
‘It would cause an uproar that very day, that’s for sure.’
I could only sincerely hope he wouldn’t cause any major incidents and would quietly return to his own home.
‘Though, come to think of it…’
Judging by the impeccable noble family act he’d just performed, he probably wouldn’t be easily discovered.
Just then, word arrived that the room prepared for Jainer was ready.
“It’s been a while for you too.”
At Jainer’s greeting, Dorman, who had been trying to make himself inconspicuous in a corner, flinched.
“Could you carry my luggage?”
“Yes, sir!”
Fully aware of his own guilt, Dorman immediately scurried after him at Jainer’s single word.
His movements were remarkably swift. Watching this, Camilla shook her head slightly.
‘Well, it’s better than being assassinated.’
She found it rather commendable that he at least understood his life hung by a thread.
* * *
“We’re doing it here?”
On the day the Festival of Abundance was held, Camilla attended the ritual ceremony with Chris.
However, upon being guided to where the ceremony was taking place, Camilla could only feel bewildered.
“This isn’t a chapel?”
Wasn’t that where such things were normally held?
Since the ceremony was being held at the Temple, I naturally assumed it would take place in a grand cathedral brimming with solemn reverence.
However, the ceremony was to be held in a sprawling Garden situated behind the Temple.
“Why are we doing it in a place like this?”
As befitted a Garden managed by the Temple, it wasn’t particularly ornate, yet it possessed an unmistakable cleanliness and grandeur.
Above all, ancient trees whose ages were impossible to gauge stood in abundance, creating the sensation of walking deep into a lush forest.
“It’s because of that tree.”
“That tree?”
Where Chris pointed, a massive tree stood solitary. It drew the eye distinctly even among the other ancient trees.
“Isn’t that a dead tree?”
The tree, so enormous that several adults would need to stretch their arms wide to encircle it entirely, bore not a single leaf.
Unlike the surrounding trees with their lush foliage, only withered branches stretched skyward without end, making it all the more conspicuous.
“It is the Tree of the Divine Lord.”
“The Tree of the Divine Lord?”
Why has everyone taken to such grandiose titles lately?
‘The Temple sells necklaces claiming to grant eternal peace.’
Now they’re bestowing divine titles upon trees as well?
“At this rate, they’ll soon declare that pebbles rolling in the streets are sacred relics of the gods.”
Camilla, the original owner of this body, felt no interest in Temple matters, and neither did I, so I knew nothing of such things.
Naturally, I had never been invited to or attended any Temple ceremony before, and this “Tree of the Divine Lord” was something I was seeing and hearing of for the first time today.
“You’ve arrived.”
At that moment, High Priest Daniel approached and greeted me warmly.
“I am truly grateful for your attendance.”
“Rather, I am honored by the invitation.”
“May this be a meaningful day for you.”
“Thank you.”
After exchanging formal pleasantries, Camilla’s gaze turned toward a single point. In that instant, people ceased their conversations and bowed their heads toward something.
The Pope, the central figure of The Cult, had arrived.
‘Hmm?’
Camilla too was about to bow respectfully toward him.
‘What is that?’
Her face contorted abruptly. A figure lingering beside the slowly approaching Pope suddenly caught her eye.
A woman who appeared to be in her early twenties, dressed in pristine white priestly robes, stood beside the Pope, clicking her tongue repeatedly.
She continued to mutter something incessantly, but the sound was too distant to hear clearly.
‘This is hardly appropriate.’
Even ghosts should have some conscience. Of all places, in the Temple, and right beside the Pope, clinging and fidgeting like that—it made no sense.
‘From the attire, she appears to have been a high-ranking priest.’
What kind of priest dies and becomes a ghost, causing such a commotion? They should have faced judgment and gone to heaven or hell, as they constantly claim.
“We pay our respects to Your Holiness.”
As the Pope drew nearer, the form of the Priest Ghost became increasingly distinct.
“Sigh.”
Camilla let out an involuntary sigh.
But in that moment, the Priest Ghost’s voice rang out clearly as the distance between them narrowed.
[This child is also corrupted, corrupted.]
Child? Did she just call the Pope a child?
Camilla found herself studying the Pope’s face anew at the Priest Ghost’s words. Calling a man well past sixty years old a child seemed absurd.
Only after examining more carefully could she discern exactly what the Priest Ghost was regarding with such displeasure.
‘What is that?’
Around the Pope’s neck, as he turned to regard the people with a benevolent smile, hung a necklace that gleamed with an unusually vivid crimson light.
It was that sacred relic necklace she had received.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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