Lucian Chapel.

A relatively new addition to the academy grounds, yet already one of the most influential.

Originally, the institution had only permitted a single place of worship, a neutral compromise to prevent accusations of bias toward the Holy Kingdom.

But as the academy’s population surged—bringing with it a growing number of believers—faith became something far too vast, far too personal, to be contained by a single chapel.

So, inevitably, two new churches were quietly founded.

Lucian Chapel was one of them—and by far the most frequented.

Its architecture was a blend of solemn elegance and divine grandeur.

Arched windows adorned with stained glass cast vibrant hues of blue and gold across the marble floor.

On certain mornings, when the sun hit just right, the entire nave would glow as if touched by the goddess herself.

It was no wonder that, during worship gatherings, Lucian Chapel consistently held the largest congregation.

“Let us all place ourselves in the presence of the Goddess. Let go of thy sins and bare thy soul.”

The priest’s solemn voice echoed across the chamber, clear and commanding yet warm with reverence.

At his words, the soft harmonies of the choir rose behind him.

Melodic and ethereal, the music swept through the chapel like a gentle wind through leaves.

The pipe organ joined in, low and haunting, creating a harmony that lulled hearts into calm.

Dozens of students, instructors, and visitors knelt in rows upon the prayer cushions.

Heads bowed.

Eyes closed.

Hands clasped in silent surrender.

Despite the emptiness that had spread throughout the academy due to winter break, the faithful who remained still filled the chapel to capacity.

There was a quiet desperation to them—an unspoken need for hope, or clarity, or peace.

“Place your faith into your hearts, and your questions shall be answered…”

Emilia sat near the front.

Her white robes were simple, unadorned—yet on her, they looked divine.

Her black hair fell gracefully around her shoulders as she lowered her head, eyes fluttering closed, her hands gently resting against her chest in prayer.

She looked… perfect.

A living image of a devout young woman, untainted and pure.

She was the picture of devotion.

The kind that would have been carved into stone, painted across ceilings, or whispered in sermons.

But beneath the surface, behind that serene mask… her heart stirred with a storm.

‘Please… show me what I must do,’ she thought, clutching tighter.

Emilia’s soul was not calm. It was conflicted. Heavy. And trembling.

Though her lips moved silently with sacred verses, her mind wandered elsewhere—toward memories, toward feelings she didn’t quite understand, toward someone whose presence had begun shaking the foundation of everything she once believed was certain.

She had performed this kind of prayer thousands of times.

The rhythm of devotion was etched into her very being—from the first moment she could clasp her hands, bow her head, and whisper sacred verses.

Even as a child, she didn’t just follow the faith—she embodied it.

She led others in worship. She brought light into the hearts of the lost.

After all, she was the one and only Saintess of the Church of Light.

And yet now… this time felt different.

‘Oh, dear Mother… why?’

The words echoed within her heart like a cry in a void.

Her hands, steady from years of ritual, trembled ever so slightly.

Her eyelids fluttered with the weight of uncertainty.

A sharp thump struck deep within her chest.

‘T-This is wrong… isn’t it?’

Her fingers clenched the fabric near her heart, her knuckles whitening.

She gripped herself as though she could physically restrain the emotions she didn’t want to admit were blooming inside her.

‘W-What is this feeling that I’m feeling…? I don’t like it, Mother… it hurts. It’s too warm… too bright…’

It wasn’t pain in the traditional sense. It was something far more confusing.

Her body felt alight with a kind of energy she couldn’t name.

Joy, maybe. Longing, perhaps. Or something even deeper, more terrifying?

Ever since that day when she saw the bright light inside him his presence—his soul—something inside her stirred violently.

The intense fluttering in her stomach.

The way her skin seemed to tingle with awareness.

The heat rising to her cheeks.

The sound of her heartbeat, louder than the choir’s hymns.

It wasn’t divine fervor.

It wasn’t righteous inspiration.

It was… something else.

Something alien to her role.

Something… human.

‘What should I do, great Mother…?’

Her silent plea trembled through her soul like a leaf in a storm.

‘I-I understand that you’ve been showing me… That he’s someone special. I know you’ve been guiding me toward him. B-But this feeling… this ache… this longing… I-I’m the Saintess. So I’m not supposed to—’

Her thoughts tangled like threads pulled taut in opposite directions.

Her role, her duty, her vows… they all stood like towering walls around her heart.

And yet, the feeling pressed against them like spring sunlight against frost—melting her defenses, slowly and painfully.

Her head began to pound as doubt and clarity battled within her.

She sought solace in the warmth she had always known—the light of the Goddess—but it eluded her now.

It had been months.

Months since she last heard the divine voice that once whispered so gently into her soul.

Months since the holy warmth embraced her in moments of crisis.

She had hoped—prayed—that this day would bring her clarity.

That kneeling beneath the stained glass of Lucian Chapel, surrounded by sacred hymns, she would finally hear that voice again.

But once more…

Nothing.

Silence.

And she was left alone with her forbidden feelings.

Even though she was the saintess of light it looks like she was no more than any other young girl out there.

…..

Vanessa, who had been kneeling in silent prayer beside Emilia, cracked one eye open.

Though her posture remained still, her sharp gaze flicked toward the girl beside her.

There was something… off.

Despite Emilia’s serene expression and perfectly composed form—hands gently clasped, shoulders relaxed, head bowed as if in peaceful surrender—Vanessa could feel it.

A subtle, almost imperceptible tremor in her aura.

A hidden storm behind those closed lids.

‘What’s bothering her…?’ Vanessa wondered, her gaze lingering.

She wanted to ask.

But she restrained herself, lowering her gaze again out of respect.

After all, this was a human chapel, and these rites—these quiet, reverent moments of communion—were sacred to the faithful of the Goddess of Light.

And Vanessa… wasn’t one of them.

As an elf, her beliefs were rooted in something else entirely.

Her people gave their hearts to the World Tree, the life-giver and eternal guardian of balance.

To them, divinity was found in the roots of the earth and the breath of the forest, not in radiant cathedrals or distant heavens.

But watching the humans here—how they prayed so earnestly, how their voices swelled with hope, and how someone like Emilia, the Saintess herself, could tremble with such deep emotion—Vanessa couldn’t help but feel something stir in her chest.

Could faith really be that powerful…?

A small voice whispered in her heart.

Maybe… maybe I should consider changing religions someday.

The thought made her chuckle silently to herself.

When the final hymn faded and the prayer came to a close, the congregation began to stir.

Vanessa stood gracefully, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face as she turned to her friend.

“Are you okay, Emmy?” she asked softly.

Emilia blinked in surprise.

She still looked as composed as ever—her white robes unwrinkled, her soft expression unbothered—but Vanessa saw through it.

Her voice may have been sweet, and her demeanor gentle, but a faint unease still clung to her like a shadow behind candlelight.

“Uh-Uhm… I’m okay. Why do you ask?”

“Well, you looked like you were in pain a little while ago,” Vanessa said, keeping her tone casual but sincere.

“W-Was it that obvious…?” Emilia’s cheeks flushed slightly.

“Not exactly, no,” Vanessa replied with a wink. “But I can tell. Fufu~”

“I… I see…” Emilia looked away shyly.

Vanessa leaned closer, her tone playful.

“Sooo… are you going to tell me about it? I’m all ears, you know.”

She tugged her hood back just a little, revealing the elegant curve of her long elven ear with a smirk, clearly proud of the pun.

Emilia giggled softly. “Hehe… I’m fine, really. I-It’s just that I’ve been having a few… doubts, is all.”

Vanessa raised a brow, interest piqued. “Doubts?”

“Mhm. Just about… divinity, and, um… warmth, and light, and butterflies, and thumping hearts and stuff…” she mumbled the last part almost inaudibly, her fingers fidgeting as she spoke.

Vanessa tilted her head. “Huh?”

“Divinity, warmth, light… and butterflies and thumping hearts?”

Vanessa tilted her head as she repeated Emilia’s words back.

Emilia’s face lit up in a brilliant shade of red, her shoulders stiffening as the weight of her own jumbled phrasing hit her with full force.

Vanessa gave a small shrug. “…does this have something to do with the goddess, maybe? Is she still not talking to you?”

The mood shifted slightly.

“Uh-uh… y-yes,” Emilia nodded hesitantly. “Th-that’s right. The Great Mother… I-I still can’t hear her voice…”

Vanessa’s smile faded into something more thoughtful.

“Hmm. I had thought that after everything that happened… she’d communicate back with her precious daughter. I guess this is more serious than we first thought, huh?”

Emilia lowered her hands to her lap and nodded again, her voice soft and uncertain. “Y-Yes…”

“Is it affecting your duties and abilities as the Saintess?” Vanessa asked carefully.

“N-No. Not exactly…” Emilia shook her head, her black locks swaying gently with the motion. “But… it just would be nice. You know… to hear something. Anything. Just a little advice. A whisper even…”

Vanessa studied her for a moment—those lowered lashes, the tightly held fingers, the slight droop of her shoulders.

“I see,” she said finally. “Well, I may not be divine or have holy revelations falling into my ears, but—” she smiled, leaning in with a little tilt of her head, “—I am a pretty good listener. So… how about sharing your problems with me instead?”

Emilia’s reaction was swift and flustered. “I-I can’t!”

Vanessa blinked, surprised. “Hm? Do you not trust me enough?”

“N-No! That’s not it at all!” Emilia waved her hands frantically. “It’s just… they’re embarrassing. Really embarrassing…”

Vanessa couldn’t help but chuckle.

She reached out and gently patted the top of Emilia’s head, her fingers running softly through the Saintess’s long, glossy black hair.

“Is that so?” she murmured, continuing to stroke gently.

A small, almost cat-like hum escaped Emilia’s lips as she leaned ever so slightly into the touch.

The tension in her shoulders melted away, and her earlier embarrassment gave way to a subtle but unmistakable sense of comfort.

She closed her eyes and smiled faintly, the faintest blush still lingering on her cheeks.

Vanessa smiled to herself, watching her friend melt into the gesture like a content kitten.

‘Well… as long as she’s smiling like that’

The soft echo of footsteps filled the nearly empty chapel.

The evening prayers had long since concluded, and the congregation had slowly trickled out, leaving only a quiet stillness behind.

Seeing that only a few people remained, Emilia and Vanessa exchanged a glance before beginning to walk toward the exit.

Their steps were slow—quiet.

The air still held a sacred hush, the kind that lingered even after the last hymn had faded.

Emilia walked with her hands clenched into small, trembling fists.

Her white robes swayed gently with her movement, but her heart felt anything but calm.

She couldn’t let anyone know—not Amon, not Anna, especially not them.

If either of them caught even a hint of the feelings blooming inside her, the rumors would travel fast… and it would only be a matter of time before everything reached the ears of the Pope.

She shivered—not from the cold, but from anxiety.

It wasn’t like she had done anything wrong.

She hadn’t acted on it.

She hadn’t spoken of it.

But even so, the weight of the Church’s doctrines pressed on her heart.

These feelings were… foreign, improper, and confusing.

They didn’t belong inside someone like her.

Someone who had devoted her life to the Goddess.

“I should forget him… right here, right now,” she told herself.

“That warm light I saw inside him… it must’ve been a coincidence. Maybe I just got caught up in the heat of the moment. That’s all it was…”

But even as she tried to bury the thought, her memories clawed their way to the surface—memories she hadn’t asked to recall.

Their first meeting.

His distant gaze.

The gentle surprise in his voice when he first said her name.

The time they worked together to rid him of his curse, the closeness they shared, and how he’d looked at her afterward.

Not as the Saintess.

Not as a holy figure.

Just… Emilia.

Her heart betrayed her.

-Thump!

-Thump!

-Thump!

Each memory sent her pulse racing faster.

Her face flushed hot, and before she realized it, she flinched mid-step, her shoulder twitching slightly as another image popped into her mind—his bare chest, his sculpted frame, the way he had looked under the moonlight that night when he stood in her room, cursed and vulnerable yet… radiant.

“Emilia?” Vanessa’s voice broke through the haze.

“I-It’s nothing!” Emilia replied quickly, shaking her head with a little too much force. “R-Really.”

Vanessa blinked, not pushing further, though a playful glint lingered in her eye.

Emilia took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus as they approached the church doors.

She braced for the cold—expecting winter’s breath to greet her skin as they stepped outside.

But instead… she felt warmth.

A soft, golden glow spilled over the stone steps of the chapel entrance.

Standing beneath the moonlit sky, with the snow gently falling around him, was the very person she’d been desperately trying not to think about.

“…Senior Riley?” Vanessa was the first to speak, her voice tinged with confusion. “What are you doing here?”

It wasn’t every day that the famously elusive and mysterious upperclassman appeared in public, let alone waited outside a chapel.

Riley stood casually, his hands in his pockets, expression unreadable—but the way his eyes softened as they landed on Emilia didn’t go unnoticed.

“I was waiting for Enna,” he said simply, his voice calm and steady.

Vanessa raised an eyebrow. “For Emmy?”

Emilia’s heart skipped.

She didn’t know what startled her more—the fact that he had waited for her… or the warmth that bloomed in her chest at hearing him say it aloud.

“H-Hello! S-Senior, B-Big Brother—S-Sir—G-Good day!?”

Emilia practically stammered her way through every honorific she could remember, her voice cracking somewhere between panic and awe.

Riley paused, blinking once as he tilted his head. “…Good day to you too?”

Vanessa raised a brow beside her, eyeing Emilia like she was watching someone slowly collapse under social pressure.

Emilia, realizing just how ridiculous she must’ve sounded, let her head drop down like a defeated kitten trying to hide her own shame.

‘Y-You idiot, what are you doing?!’ she screamed internally. ‘Big brother sir?! What does that even mean?!’

Still, Riley didn’t comment on it. If anything, he looked… amused.

Or maybe he just chose to ignore her flustered state entirely.

Instead, he began walking forward.

One step at a time.

And with every step he took toward her, Emilia could feel her breath hitch—her chest rising slightly as if trying to calm the fluttering inside her.

Her heart thumped wildly, betraying her composed saintly image.

“I just wanted to give you something,” Riley said once he stopped in front of her. “A gift, per se.”

“A-A gift…?” she repeated, voice barely above a whisper, her fingers nervously gripping the edges of her sleeves.

“Yes. You’re already aware of my connection with the Goddess, right?”

Emilia nodded slowly, confused. “Yes…”

“Then that makes this a bit easier,” he said, his tone oddly gentle. “You could consider this me fulfilling a promise… to her.”

“To… the Goddess?” she murmured, still trying to follow where this was going.

Riley reached into the inside pocket of his coat.

Then, without saying another word, he gently took Emilia’s left hand.

She froze.

Her fingers trembled slightly as his hand enveloped hers—warm, steady, and strangely comforting. Emilia’s breath caught in her throat.

From his hand, a small glint of silver and soft blue light shimmered. A ring.

She watched, completely still, as he slowly, carefully slipped the ring onto her finger—that finger.

The one reserved for vows, for connections, for deep meanings.

“This will help you in the future,” Riley said, his voice low. “So, make sure you don’t lose it.”

He finally looked up—expecting a simple thank you, maybe a flustered nod.

Instead, he was met with the blank, wide-eyed stare of a frozen Emilia, her cheeks fully flushed and her lips parted slightly in complete disbelief.

Next to her, Vanessa had both hands covering her mouth in visible shock, her golden-green eyes darting between the ring and Riley, then back at Emilia.

“…Emilia?”

Emilia looked like she was going to faint.

Amidst the small scene he caused… Unaware of just how unintentionally popular he was…

People were watching.

A few other students had paused near the courtyard. Some of them whispering, others outright gawking.

A ring on certain first year’s finger.

Given by the elusive and enigmatic Riley.

In the cold winter sun.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep