PCP – 156

Thank you raw provider: Laylie

All of a sudden, all of this just felt too heavy. Cesare, the High Temple—what if she gave up on everything, how wonderful it would be if she could go home and live with her father.

After weeping and sobbing aloud her throat was hoarse. Damia wiped her messy face with her handkerchief, and stood up from her crouching position. She then looked around wondering how she would go home.

As the sun had completely set and she was looking around the large and increasingly dim garden of the royal palace, she suddenly realized: that she was lost.


It was truly a horrible day where nothing worked out. With bad luck persisting the whole day, she couldn’t even be bothered to give a damn.

Damia looked down at her feet, which had been tattered as she had run out of the palace. And with a sigh, she took off her shoes and put them in one of her hands and started walking.

Damia felt that if she could not find her way out, it would be good to die of exhaustion. As she thought so rubbed her cheek.

Her tear-soaked cheeks were salty and stinging, feeling bitter with every gust of wind. She swept back her hair that clung to it and  turned around the corner of a garden.

And again, she ran into a strange woman.

“… …Hi.”

The woman wasn’t even surprised to see Damia popping out looking like a complete mess in the middle of the night. As if she had been expecting her, she tilted her head and even greeted her peacefully.

‘Who is she?’

Of course, it wasn’t Saint Callistea whom she had encountered earlier. But she felt something was rather strange.

Damia stared intently at the dreamy face of a woman with long silver hair. She was a beautiful woman with a faint, surreal feeling as if she did not necessarily exist in reality.

She was also staring at her Damia. It was dark so maybe that’s why it felt eerily like her eyes were out of focus.

“You’re Damia Primula, aren’t you?”

Damia, who was stunned for a moment, was startled by her words. She had just arrived in the capital today, and didn’t know anyone because it was her first visit.

But who is this strange woman pretending to know her?

Her vigilance shone in her eyes as she looked at her. As if she felt it, the silver-haired woman smiled, blinking her white eyelashes.

“You don’t need to be so wary. We’re meeting for the first time, but we’re bound together.”

… … Could she possibly be crazy? Or is it a strange religion like ‘Do you believe in the Tao*?’ that sometimes appears in the capital city.

[*t1v: Korean ‘religious fanatic’ meme/catchphrase where people with crazy eyes approach and urge you to join their cult, esp in Seoul—and yes, it’s happened to me too, lol]

In the moment when Damia was seriously considering taking a step back from her. The woman’s hand reached out and she spoke:

“Should I say hello first, right? Nice to meet you. My name is Sienna Valerian.”

“Ah yes… … yes?”

Damia, who was about to grab her hand, froze. It was because the name that came out of the woman’s mouth so casually was too grand.

Sienna Valerian. The foremost clairvoyant in the kingdom who saw the future with mysterious silver eyes. And… … .

‘That man’s one and only sister.’

The face of the man she didn’t want to see the most came to mind. Naturally, Damia’s body, which was about to hold Sienna’s outstretched hand, also faltered.

Seeing this, Sienna let out her light sigh, hurried over and grabbed Damia’s hand, proceeded to drag her away.

“I know. You must have a lot of questions for me.”

“To be honest, yes.”

“I want to talk to you too, Damia Primula. But now we have to walk.”

Why? Damie asked with her eyes. Sienna shrugged her shoulders.

“You are now in the garden under the auspices of the Queen’s Palace. Of course, you accidently lost your way, but under the Royal Palace Act, if you break into the Queen’s Palace without permission, you will be sentenced to five years in prison.”

“… … Sorry. Let’s go out and talk.”

Damia, who had completely regained her sense of reality, decided to follow her without questioning her any further. Sienna chuckled at her prompt response and held out something to her.

“Your feet hurt, right? Change it to this.”

They were comfortable leather boots, worn mainly by ladies when hunting. Startled and stunned, Damia numbly took it.

‘How do you know my feet are sore … ?.’

Even the shoes she tried on out of curiosity fit her feet exactly as if they had been tailored. The color of the shoes, which fit perfectly to her heels, was her favorite tan dark brown color.

The moment she realized this, a shiver ran down Damia’s spine.

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