IN A MORNING
THIRD PERSON'S POINT OF VIEW:
In the grand halls of the royal palace, where golden sunlight streamed through towering stained-glass windows, a man sat at ease, his fingers idly tracing the rim of a crystal goblet. Prince Xavier Valentine A name that echoed power. A face that ensnared attention.
Unfairly handsome, impossibly so, Xavier was the kind of man poets wrote about and kings feared. He possessed a tall, lean frame draped in the finest black and gold-trimmed garments, his very presence exuding effortless elegance. His dark auburn hair, tousled yet regal, caught the light in rich ember hues, framing his flawlessly sculpted face, high cheekbones, a sharp jawline, but his eyes held danger. A piercing golden hue, like molten sunlight trapped in glass, framed by dark lashes that made them all the more striking.
Those eyes gleamed with quiet amusement if the world itself was merely a game for him to enjoy. Xavier took a slow sip from his goblet, savoring the tension in the room. Before him, a royal messenger stood rigid, shifting uncomfortably under the prince's gaze.
"So." Xavier drawled, setting his drink aside. "The fake saintess has escaped."
A ripple of amusement laced his voice.
The messenger swallowed hard.
"Y-yes, Your Highness. The temple knights and His Holiness himself are searching for her as we speak."Guard said.
Ah. Xavier's smirk widened, golden eyes flickering with something dangerous. Alastor. He could already picture it, that man, standing in the grand halls of the temple, his perfect composure cracking just slightly. The ever righteous High Priest Alastor Vellemont, whose entire world revolved around control and order… losing his carefully laid plans to one girl. How deliciously infuriating that must be for him. Xavier chuckled under his breath.
He leaned forward, propping his chin against his hand.
"And tell me-."He mused."Is our dear High Priest… furious?"
The messenger hesitated.
"He… has ordered an extensive search, Your Highness."Guard said.
Xavier hummed. Of course, he has. The saintess selection was Alastor's grand, orchestrated masterpiece. A perfect spectacle where Isabella Everheart, the fake saintess, the doomed fraud, was meant to willingly step into her place. And yet. She had run. And that changed everything.
"Interesting." Xavier murmured, tapping his fingers against the armrest.
A helpless noble girl should have been caught immediately. And yet, not even the temple's best knights had found her. Was it luck? Cleverness? A miracle?
Or was Isabella Everheart far more dangerous than anyone had realized? A slow, wicked smile tugged at his lips. Maybe it was time for him to join the game. Xavier stood from his chair in one smooth motion, his golden eyes glinting with sharp amusement. The messenger flinched slightly, as if expecting him to lash out, but Xavier merely adjusted the cuffs on his coat. The game had taken an unexpected turn, and he wasn't about to sit on the sidelines.
"Prepare my horse." He ordered lazily, stretching as though he had all the time in the world. "I believe it's time I take a personal interest in this little chase."
The messenger hesitated.
"Y-Your Highness? You mean to-?"He asked.
Xavier shot him a pointed look, and the poor man immediately bowed.
"At once, Your Highness!" He scurried away, leaving Xavier alone in the grand chamber.
A soft chuckle left the prince's lips. He had never cared much for the Saintess Selection Ceremony—not like Alastor did. It had always been a tedious affair, full of dramatic proclamations and divine nonsense. The real saintess would be chosen by the gods, and the fake one Isabella Everheart was meant to be discarded like an empty goblet after a feast. But now? The fake had escaped. And she had done it so well that even the temple's most devoted dogs couldn't sniff her out.
Xavier found that hilarious. More than that, he found it intriguing. A fragile noble girl? With no resources, no allies, and no divine power? Outsmarting the temple? Outsmarting Alastor? Now that was something worth seeing.
By the time he stepped outside, his personal guards had already prepared his horse. A magnificent black stallion stood waiting for him, its sleek coat shimmering in the daylight. Xavier swung into the saddle effortlessly, his cloak settling over his shoulders as he gripped the reins.
The knights stationed at the palace gates stiffened in surprise.
"Y-Your Highness." One of them stammered. "Are you-?"
Xavier smiled, his golden eyes gleaming with mischief. "Just taking a leisurely ride."Xavier said.
The knight swallowed nervously but nodded.
"Shall we send escorts—?"He asked.
"That won't be necessary." Xavier cut in smoothly. "I'd hate to make this hunt too easy."
With that, he urged his horse forward, the powerful beast galloping down the path leading out of the palace.
The temple knights were already scouring the city and surrounding roads like desperate hounds. But Xavier? He didn't search desperately. He hunted cleverly. He would follow the signs they overlooked. The small details.
And if Isabella Everheart was as fascinating as she seemed… he would find her first. The village near the forest was quiet, almost too quiet. Xavier rode in at a leisurely pace, his golden eyes scanning the dirt roads and simple wooden houses.
The place was small, barely a speck on the map, yet the air was thick with something he hadn't expected.
Sorrow. The villagers moved sluggishly, their eyes downcast, their voices hushed. Children clung to their mothers, their usual laughter replaced with uneasy silence. Even the marketplace, where merchants typically shouted over one another, felt subdued. Something was wrong. Xavier dismounted his horse, flicking his cloak behind him as he strolled toward a group of gathered villagers. The moment they noticed him, their eyes widened, and a murmur rippled through the crowd.
"A royal?" Someone whispered.
"Why is Prince Xavier here…?"Another asked.
He didn't mind the attention. He thrived in it.
With a charming, easy going smile, he approached a young man stacking firewood.
"Good afternoon." Xavier said smoothly. "I'm looking for information."
The man straightened, wiping sweat from his brow.
"I- O-Of course, Your Highness. What do you wish to know?"He asked.
Xavier tilted his head, observing the lingering sadness in the man's eyes.
"The priestess from the temple," he said, watching the man's reaction carefully. "She's disappeared, hasn't she?"
A heavy silence fell over the group. An elderly woman clutched her shawl tighter, her gaze dropping to the ground. Others exchanged uneasy glances, and a few younger villagers turned away entirely, as if they couldn't bear to discuss it. Xavier's smirk didn't fade, but his eyes sharpened.
"I take it she was well loved here." He said.
A woman, perhaps in her late thirties, sniffled and nodded.
"Lady Isabella was kind." She said, her voice wavering. "She always helped us, brought medicine, healed the sick, even though she wasn't… wasn't truly blessed."
Xavier raised a brow. Not truly blessed… so they had known she was a fake saintess? And yet, they still adored her. That was rare.
Another man sighed heavily.
"We heard the temple was going to confirm the real saintess soon… we thought maybe they'd still let her stay." He clenched his fists. "But now she's gone. Just vanished before the ceremony."
Xavier hummed. He already knew that much. But what he didn't know was how Isabella Everheart had managed to slip past Alastor's grasp so completely. Most noble girls would panic in a situation like this. They would run blindly, hide somewhere familiar a friend's estate, a distant relative's home. But Isabella had disappeared into the wild. Why? His gaze flickered to an old woman sitting on the porch of a nearby house. She hadn't spoken once, but she was watching him with sharp, knowing eyes. Unlike the others, her expression was not fearful. Xavier approached her slowly.
"You." He said smoothly. "You seem to know something the others don't."
The old woman scoffed, shifting in her chair.
"Hmph. A pretty boy with golden eyes, but you don't fool me." She muttered, looking him up and down. "You're here to drag her back like the rest of them, aren't you?"
Xavier chuckled.
"Not necessarily."He said.
She eyed him suspiciously before exhaling.
"You all search the wrong places. The city, the roads, the rivers… but not the forest."She said.
"Why the forest?"He asked.
The old woman's lips curled into a faint smile.
"Because that girl didn't grow up in a noble's mansion, boy." Her eyes gleamed with something reminiscent. "She grew up as an orphan in the forest."She said.
For the first time since this hunt began, Xavier felt genuine surprise. Isabella Everheart, the fragile, helpless fake saintess. wasn't just surviving in the forest. She was thriving. A slow, wicked grin spread across his face. This game just became much more interesting.