A Fortune-telling Princess - Chapter 175

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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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“You’ve had it rough.”
Had the Priest Ghost sensed my turbulent heart? She smiled knowingly and reached out her hand toward me.
It seemed she intended to pat my head.
A gentle whoosh.
But before she could, another hand appeared before my eyes—that familiar touch that had always cradled my forehead whenever I lay unconscious.
“Your fever’s broken.”
“Arsian.”
I wasn’t sure when he’d awakened, but Arsian kept his hand pressed to my forehead, exhaling shallow sighs of relief one after another.
“Thank goodness.”
He rose from his seat immediately.
“Why?”
“You need to eat something.”
While I’d been bedridden, I hadn’t managed proper nutrition.
They’d managed to spoon some thin broth into me, but the quantity was so meager it hardly counted as eating at all.
Seeing how gaunt my face had become, Arsian clicked his tongue softly to himself.
“Where’s Dorman?”
“I told him to rest for a while.”
“Hmm.”
Come to think of it, Dorman had suffered too.
“Here! I’ve brought the medicine!”
“Shall I prepare more cold cloths?”
“We should raise the room temperature a bit more.”
I could still recall his voice, continuously assisting Arsian without rest.
The fellow had endured quite a bit. Even if I find reason to scold him next time, I should let it slide once.
“….”
As I thought this, Arsian stepped outside and cast his gaze toward the Priest Ghost standing to one side.
His face had hardened colder than ever before. He had clearly witnessed that spirit entering my body.
Convinced that she was the reason for my collapse, his eyes burned with intensity.
Had I remained unconscious any longer, he likely would have obliterated her on the spot.
After sending one final warning glare—a clear message to cease her meddling—Arsian quietly left the room.
“Can he see me too?”
“Well, roughly speaking.”
He couldn’t perceive her exact form, only the phenomenon of black smoke moving about, but seeing was seeing.
“How fascinating. In all this time, I’ve never encountered children like you before. To think there are two of you here who can perceive me.”
The Priest Ghost shook her head slightly. Throughout her time here, she’d had to endure his fierce gaze.
“Though that fellow does lack manners.”
“Only somewhat? That’s fortunate then.”
So he’d been quite lenient after all? The fact that she’d described him as merely “somewhat” lacking in courtesy rather than “extremely” suggested considerable restraint on his part.
I chuckled softly and asked the question that had been nagging at me since earlier.
“But why exactly are you still here?”
At Camilla’s question, the Priest Ghost smiled wickedly once more.
[Let us introduce ourselves properly.]
“…Why?”
[Why do you ask why when I suggest an introduction?]
“That’s exactly why I’m asking.”
We wouldn’t be seeing each other again anyway—why bother with introductions? My wariness spiked instantly. An inexplicable sense of dread crept through me.
[Arena Aguilas.]
“No, but why would we even—”
Wait. Arena? Where have I heard that name before…!
“Could it be…?”
[Your suspicion is correct.]
As I watched her smile deepen, my jaw fell slack in bewilderment.
* * *
“The sacred relic awakened? In that child’s hands?”
“Yes, I have verified it multiple times.”
“How peculiar.”
High Priest Daniel bowed deeply.
His face was filled with consternation. He could not fathom how to comprehend this situation.
“The sacred relic has never rejected a person before. I cannot discern why it shattered… I shall seek alternative methods.”
“Alternative methods, you say.”
A figure seated in the darkness slowly stepped forward. At his appearance, Daniel bowed deeply once more.
The one who fully emerged before him was none other than Emperor Faybler himself.
The patriarch of the Eva Church, now inhabiting the body of the Faebler Empire’s Emperor.
Within the Eva Church, he was called Alberto, but none knew his true name.
Even Daniel, who served at his side, had never heard his real name spoken.
“It seems the child has caught my interest.”
“She possesses far too many abilities.”
“I have heard the reports.”
The Capital—no, the entire Empire—buzzed once again with talk of Camilla. The attention was extraordinary. It stemmed from the sacred power she had displayed this time.
“A saint.”
It was a sacred power unlike anything witnessed before. No one had manifested such power in the past several centuries.
“Perhaps that is why the sacred relic reacted to her. Could it not have shattered from rejecting her sacred power?”
“Possibly.”
The red stone was a sacred relic of the Eva Church.
If she truly possessed the qualities of a saint, as people claimed, then it was only natural that a relic of another faith would reject her.
“Yet that body is far too precious to abandon.”
The red stone, crafted using the Eva Church’s sacred relics, wounded the soul merely by being possessed. It gradually weakened the bond between spirit and flesh.
As spirit and body grew increasingly separated, the pain from any existing ailment naturally dulled.
People accepted this mere numbing of pain as sacred healing power, when in truth the illness itself remained uncured.
“That is why I gave her the sacred relic.”
When the red stone turned black, it became remarkably easy to extract a soul.
I was certain that Camilla’s situation would be resolved the same way. I had never failed even once until now.
Since the sacred object’s aura was so subtle, there was no need to worry about Shinsu.
However, it seemed impossible to seize her body through that method.
“I do find myself tempted, though.”
Foresight ability, and now divine power too. Her value continued to rise with each passing moment. Possessing her body alone would become an immense source of strength for the Cult.
“What was your impression upon meeting her?”
At Daniel’s question, Emperor Faybler recalled anew the time he had met her in the Imperial Greenhouse not long ago.
“Well.”
She was innocent. The image of her smiling brightly all the while remained vivid even now.
Even when she asked him directly what he knew about himself, her demeanor remained consistent.
“She’s quite the cheerful child.”
“Your Majesty?”
“But if that appearance is false….”
He clicked his tongue lightly. Regarding her, there were many things that kept catching his attention. An inexplicable unease continued to irritate him.
“Extracting that child’s soul doesn’t seem to be easy.”
Daniel likewise nodded slowly in agreement with those words.
Most troublesome of all was the fact that she was under the protection of the Sorpel Family.
Moreover, hadn’t her biological father appeared this time as well? His status was far from insignificant.
“If extracting her soul proves difficult, there is also the method of bringing her to our side.”
“Would that even be possible?”
“I shall search for a way.”
* * *
“Ah, here.”
“Um….”
“Come now. Ah.”
My hands are perfectly fine, you know?
“I’ll eat it myself.”
“Just go ahead. Ah.”
Camilla offered an awkward smile as she watched Arsian thrust the spoon toward her.
‘Ugh, how burdensome.’
I felt like I might get indigestion. If only this fellow were alone in the room, I might have accepted it readily enough, but….
‘That’s not the issue here!’
Multiple pairs of eyes made no effort whatsoever to conceal their displeasure.
Yet no one openly drove Arsian away either.
“You need to eat well to recover quickly. Come now, eat up.”
As Camilla found herself unable to do either one thing or the other while reading the room, Duke Sorpel, unable to bear it any longer, sighed and coaxed her.
Arsian, the way that fellow clung to Camilla’s side was utterly distasteful, but this time I decided to let it pass.
“….”
Duke Sorpel’s gaze turned toward Arsian’s hand. A short sigh escaped unbidden at the sight of the scars still marking that hand.
Unlike those around her who panicked and floundered helplessly at the sight of Camilla enduring the pain of her teeth shattering, Arsian showed not a moment’s hesitation as he thrust his hand directly into her mouth.
Blood streamed from his hand, yet he didn’t so much as furrow his brow. Instead, his gaze remained fixed with concern solely upon the suffering Camilla.
‘And that’s not all.’
After Camilla collapsed, I received tremendous help from Arsian.
Camilla, felled by divine fever, radiated such intense heat that one could feel the warmth simply by drawing near. Yet in the next moment, her entire body would turn ice-cold as a frozen stone.
No one could properly care for Camilla as she alternated between waves of scorching heat and bitter cold.
Even the Healers could only stand helplessly, shifting their weight from foot to foot. Symptoms brought on by divine fever proved resistant to medicine, leaving them at a loss.
It was Arsian who stepped forward in those moments. When fever rose, he used magic to cool the child’s body; when the opposite occurred, he employed magic once more.
For an entire week, he never left her side, tending to her constantly shifting condition without respite.
So what was I to do? I couldn’t simply ignore his efforts and cast him out the moment Camilla’s condition improved, could I?
“You heard him? Father says you should eat as well. Go on.”
“Who is your—!”
….
“…Very well, eat up.”
That wretched fool! Who does he think he is calling Father! Who!
Duke Sorpel wanted to shout immediately, but the moment he raised his voice, he caught sight of Camilla’s anxious expression and swallowed his rage instead.
For now, the priority was getting Camilla to eat.
“Father.”
“Yes, what else do you need?”
After taking a spoonful of soup, Camilla called quietly to Duke Sorpel. Something was troubling her.
“Those people—are they still out there doing that?”
The Temple people. From the High Priest down to the Cardinals, they had been taking turns visiting this place. All to take her away to the Cult.
‘They have no sense of propriety whatsoever.’
Shouldn’t they at least read the situation before coming to call?
From what I gathered, they’d been coming since the very first day I collapsed.
‘Our family is hardly an ordinary household either.’
It was behavior devoid of fear.
Or perhaps the existence of a Saint was that important? Maybe pressure was coming from above.
“You needn’t concern yourself with any of it.”
The moment the Cult was mentioned, Duke Sorpel’s eyes flashed with a killing intent so fierce it seemed ready to spill forth.
His daughter had returned home perfectly fine only to collapse, and now those people were making such a commotion outside.
When patience would have been the minimum expectation, he couldn’t fathom what they thought they were doing.

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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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