Aya Ran Away - Chapter 36

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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 36
Noble daughters far more suited to Nahal abounded compared to the Deposed King’s girls.
Though merely his personal opinion, he believed it politically sound to sever all ties with the Deposed King and his house entirely.
Yet Levanun knew his lord well.
Appearances aside, Nahal had a weakness for small, fragile, abandoned things.
He simply lacked the temperament to turn away from them.
Levanun set down his thoughts and suddenly turned his head.
Hundreds of people held their breath, watching the ceremony unfold.
Despite several hundred gathered in one place, the Grand Hall remained unnaturally silent.
‘We’ve crossed the greatest hurdle,’ he thought.
The Coronation Ceremony had passed without incident, so the most dangerous crisis was behind them now.
He’d worried an assassin might slip through, but fortunately it came to nothing.
Of course, the military review and the reception for the delegations soon to arrive still awaited.
The candles on the dais flickered.
Gazing at the dancing light, Levanun fell into reverie.
‘It truly wasn’t easy.’
The endless complaints and protests from the nobility hardly warranted consideration—they were only to be expected.
The real trouble had come from within.
Until moments before the ceremony, Nahal’s closest advisors had quarreled so bitterly no words could adequately capture it.
When even his inner circle couldn’t agree, what hope was there for the rest?
Remembering even fragments of those disputes made Levanun’s head throb.
Right up until the ceremony, there had been concerns about holding all proceedings at the Temple.
Opinion had split between those who feared granting the Temple too much authority, and those who argued the Temple’s power must be strengthened to check the Nobility and the elder factions.
The former camp was largely aristocratic, the latter composed of those of commoner birth.
With each round of discussion, the rift had only deepened.
The diverse backgrounds of Nahal’s retinue, for the first time, proved a liability.
Bardal’s hesitation right to the end had weighed heavily on the decision, and ultimately it was settled that the ceremony would be held at the Temple.
However, the rite itself would proceed in an Abbreviated Form, omitting most religious observances, while subsequent events would be planned in future deliberations to balance the Temple and the Royal Palace.
‘But even abbreviated, it’s still tedious…….’
It was as he half-listened to the priest’s blessing.
A small disturbance seemed to erupt from the back of the hall, and low murmuring spread.
At first, he’d thought perhaps a dispute over seating had broken out.
But when a low cry mixed in briefly, he couldn’t ignore it.
Levanun furrowed his brow and turned his head.
The disturbance was occurring where the brides were waiting.
Levanun’s brow creased as he met Bardal’s eyes.
‘What is it?’
Bardal asked silently.
‘How should I know?’
Levanun shrugged.
Not long after, Aya entered the ceremonial hall, half-dragged along.
With each trembling step her feet tangled, and her gait was far less graceful than the rehearsal, stumbling awkwardly as she entered the Grand Hall.
“You…… are you all right?”
Even Chifor, walking beside her, had to ask.
Every eye in the hall fixed upon Aya.
But Aya’s attention was entirely consumed by the cup ahead of her.
The priests bearing the Golden Chalice on a Silver Platter walked before them.
The Mist Entity still clung to that chalice.
It swayed like a banner caught in wind, then slipped down into the cup as if pulled, only to rear its head again, repeating the motion.
It was a movement that seemed to mock someone.
Aya bit her lower lip.
A faint taste of blood filled her mouth.
The priests advanced, bearing the golden chalice, and placed it upon the dais.
Before Aya’s eyes, Nahal slowly turned to face them.
As he stood and turned toward the gathered guests, a cry of admiration escaped from among the crowd.
Beneath the sunlight pouring through the Temple’s windows, he looked like a messenger of the divine, just as he had at the Coronation Ceremony.
Though he’d been reviewing documents moments before the ceremony began, he stood without the slightest wavering.
Even in lighter attire than at the coronation, he was remarkably resplendent.
Aya swallowed dryly as she ascended the dais.
Her mind was chaos, and her frightened heart hammered wildly.
A high priest began intoning the blessing.
Long, slow, elaborate phrases echoed through the Grand Hall.
‘Or perhaps the pressure has scrambled my thoughts.’
She stood motionless, entertaining such doubts.
The weight of it all was suffocating.
She had stood before crowds a handful of times, but never as the center of it all.
Yet here, in this moment, she had to save Nahal.
Her insides twisted tight.
The cup.
That Golden Chalice.
The cup that would touch his lips—that was the problem.
She had hoped that the strength which banished demons might also banish the Mist Entity.
If only he could drive it away, she wouldn’t have to torment herself like this—
But Aya’s hopes shattered the moment Nahal reached for the Golden Chalice.
As his fingers closed around it, the Mist Entity slid like liquid into the cup itself.
The priest poured wine over it.
If he drank from it, the Mist Entity would seep into his body.
Only Aya could stop what was about to unfold.
Before he could drink, Nahal had to recite the ceremonial oath, so he set the cup down again.
Aya and Chifor received their wine too, placing their cups before them as well.
Aya’s hands trembled so violently as she held her cup that wine splashed across her sleeve.
Then the blessing prayer began.
The crowd bowed their heads in reverence.
Aya held her breath.
Should she overturn the cup?
The thought came to her in an instant, but she rejected it just as quickly.
Knocking it over wouldn’t make the Mist Entity vanish.
At worst, it would break free and cling to Nahal instead.
If it seeped directly into him, there would be no way to stop it.
‘I have to reach it first.’
“Then, now for the final act—Your Majesty shall take the cup and drink the Oath of Vows—”
The moment the prayer ended and the priest spoke those words, Aya felt her body lunge forward.
She was faster than Nahal’s reaching hand.
Her injured leg gave way, sending her body stumbling sideways.
Someone in the crowd gasped in alarm.
She snatched the cup and would have fallen, but Nahal caught her, gathering her into his arms.
For a brief moment their eyes met.
Nahal looked down at her.
His golden eyes flickered with confusion.
Yet in them burned not rebuke but bewilderment—a question seeking an answer.
Why.
Those soft golden eyes, as if cut from sunlight and laid bare.
Half-cradled in his steady embrace, Aya’s mind suddenly returned to the Pond.
Then too, these arms had held her.
They had pulled her sinking body from the water and given her breath.
Aya’s gaze shifted from his eyes to the Golden Chalice.
This time, it was her turn to hold on.
Without hesitation, she brought the cup to her lips.
The crimson liquid rushed into her mouth.
And then a dense, gelatinous mist—something with weight and substance—slid down her throat.
A strangled gasp.
For a moment, her breath stopped entirely.
“The ceremony is not yet—!”
The priest shrieked a desperate cry.
‘What does order matter when everything has already fallen to ruin?’
With that thought, Aya stumbled, her body swaying.
She did not fall.
Nahal’s arm, slipping beneath the folds of his ceremonial cloak, wrapped around her more tightly still.
She felt his warm hand curve against her back.
“Aya!”
Nahal’s voice wavered.
A sharp, piercing whistle.
A high, prolonged shriek tore through her ears.
The world went white, spinning as if she’d been struck hard from behind.
A throbbing pain followed, as though something had cracked against the back of her skull.
Incomprehensible sounds crashed down upon her.
It was as if a dozen people were screaming directly into her ears at once—shrieking, cackling, raging, bellowing.
“Ugh—”
She felt something seeping through her body, tearing her apart from within.
Her stomach twisted as if invisible hands were wringing it, and nausea clawed its way up.

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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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