Grant Me Your Grace

Dahlia’s lips twitched slightly before she mustered the strength to answer.  

“No. How could I, who stays only in the princess’s palace… have seen them? I’ve never seen them, not even once.”  

“Your Highness, don’t you come to the temple to pray every night when the moonlight is dim?”  

Hovan pressed her with a piercing gaze, as if seeing through her.  

“Are you truly saying that you’ve never seen the divine gift, not even once, on those nights?”  

Under Hovan’s relentless questioning, Dahlia grew increasingly uneasy. 

‘Was he asking because he knew something?’ 

She felt an overwhelming urge to confess and beg for forgiveness.  

At the same time, she also wanted to plead with him to save Hissin.  

[Do not worry. Just trust me and wait. Nothing will happen to disturb Your Highness’s peace of mind.]  

Suddenly, Hissin’s voice echoed in Dahlia’s mind. 

It was what he had told her at the temple when she had rushed there upon hearing the news that he was to be offered as a sacrifice.  

Hissin had smiled softly, as if he had known she would come, and comforted her. Then, he quietly kissed the back of her hand and sent her back to the princess’s palace. 

Though their meeting had been shorter than usual, it had left her heart more at peace than any long night before.  

Recalling Hissin’s words to trust him, Dahlia struggled to steady her expression.  

“When I went, there was no one there. I only go to the temple when everyone is deep asleep.”  

“…”

“And I can’t meet anyone without permission, can I?”  

Anyone who approached the princess without the emperor’s permission would be punished, regardless of the reason. 

Ever since the day of her coming-of-age ceremony, when a young boy had been executed, Dahlia had strictly confined herself.  

Hovan, who knew this well, eventually withdrew his suspicious gaze.  

“Do not try to get close to the divine gift.”  

Instead, he offered a cryptic warning.  

“Do not show interest or curiosity in them.”  

“Everyone in Baran talks about him and goes to see him.”  

“It doesn’t matter what others do, but Your Highness must not.”  

“Why?”  

His repeated refusals stirred a rebellious feeling in her. Dahlia looked at Hovan with feigned disappointment as she spoke.

“Why can’t I show interest? It’s not like I’m trying to see him in person… I just want to hear about them…”  

“To Your Highness, he is…”  

Hovan hesitated, as if about to say more, but then closed his mouth. Though she was curious about what he left unsaid, he never brought it up again.  

“The time for prayer has come. Let us end today’s lesson here.”  

With that, he left the princess’s palace under the pretext of prayer.  

Dahlia watched Hovan’s retreating figure through the window, her expression clouded. 

There was guilt for lying, but more than that, she felt a pang of disappointment.  

It felt as though he was warning her not to covet the goddess’s grace, as if the salvation that had come to her was somehow wrong.  

Just as she had finally taken a step into the outside world, which had always seemed forbidden to her.  

“I too…”  

‘Like everyone else, I want to see Hissin freely.’  

The unspoken wish lingered on the tip of her tongue, too fragile to voice aloud. 

What seemed trivial and insignificant to others felt like a distant dream to her, one she would risk her life for. She wanted to see Hissin. She wanted to run to him and beg him not to ascend the altar.  

To tell him to run away instead. To come to her in secret whenever the price of blood loomed over her, to extend his hand of salvation.  

…To not take her salvation away.  

…To not leave her.  

“…This test has been placed upon me.”  

Dahlia gazed sorrowfully outside before closing the curtains. 

Then, she covered her face with her hands. Tears she couldn’t hold back pooled heavily, mingling with her trembling, heated breath.  

✨

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom—  

The majestic sound of drums echoed in all directions. 

Each time the burly men struck the massive drums, the ground trembled.  

Boooo—  

Following that, the deep sound of a giant horn reverberated through the sky. The crowd, drawn by the oppressive signal, wore distant, somber expressions.  

Soon, a grand palanquin began moving toward the altar.

On the palanquin rode Hissin, the divine gift. 

Dressed in spotless white robes and wearing a veil adorned with gold, Hissin was carried by a carriage pulled by a dozen strong men, heading toward the altar.  

The crowd gathered at the temple cheered for him. 

Some were overcome with emotion, tears welling in their eyes—whether from awe or sorrow, it was hard to tell—but most smiled joyfully as if welcoming a war hero.  

Their strong belief was that the divine gift would surely stop the calamity that had befallen Baran.  

After all, what they truly desired was not the divine gift itself, but the miracle that his death would bring.  

Finally, the palanquin carrying Hissin reached the altar. 

Near the altar stood several priests and soldiers, the latter prepared in case the divine gift attempted to flee.  

High Priest Aaron, standing before the altar, spoke in a voice heavy with suppressed sorrow.  

“The divine gift must ascend the altar in accordance with the will of the goddess Nuit.”  

‘The will of the goddess Nuit.’ 

At those words, Hissin let out a faint breath—whether a sigh or a scoff, it was hard to tell.  

What was the will of the goddess, and what was the greed of humans? Was there even such a thing as divine will in all of this?  

‘Impossible.’  

A fleeting sneer crossed his crimson eyes, but it was so brief that no one noticed.  

Hissin slowly stepped out of the palanquin and began ascending the stairs to the altar. 

With each step, the prayers of the gathered crowd grew louder. Listening to them, he felt as though he had become the ruler of the world.  

Half wrong, half right, perhaps.  

In the end, everything would unfold as he intended.  

Whoosh—  

As the wind wrapped around him, Hissin raised his eyes. 

In the distance, among the seated royals, he saw Dahlia, her face veiled in black.  

Though her expression was hidden beneath the thick veil, her tense posture caught his eye, scratching at his heart.  

What expression would she wear at the end of the grueling hell that lay ahead?  

‘Perhaps… that end will be even more hellish.’  

But it didn’t matter. From the moment he decided to set foot on this land again, he had no intention of letting her go. 

Even if she cried and begged, the place she belonged would always be by his side.  

For the sin of becoming a sacrificial lamb to the curse on that fateful day.  

For the sin of recklessly saving the boy who had pressed sand into her palm.  

For the sin of daring to let me escape alive.  

“From the beginning, there was no divine will here.”  

As Hissin muttered these words with a self-deprecating smile, his gaze fixed on Dahlia—  

Crash!

The carefully stacked wood on the altar suddenly collapsed in an instant. 

No one had thrown a stone, nor had a strong wind blown, yet the logs tumbled down as if pushed by an unseen force, rolling down the stairs.  

“Ah! Everyone, move!”  

“Stay still, and you’ll be crushed!”

In the sudden chaos, the priests and soldiers below scrambled in panic to avoid the rolling logs. 

Fortunately, there were no casualties, but had they been any slower, many would have been crushed and severely injured.  

Amid the uproar, Hissin stood motionless on the stairs, as if nothing had happened. His demeanor was eerily reminiscent of a demon bringing calamity. 

Startled by the unexpected turn of events, Khankundra shouted, “What are you doing? Begin the ritual at once!”  

At the emperor’s command, a priest holding a torch hurriedly climbed the stairs. 

Hissin, looking down at the flustered priest, raised his head toward the sky.  

At that moment, the sky suddenly darkened, and the sun was blotted out in an instant. The abrupt darkness amplified the murmurs of the crowd.  

As he gazed at the encroaching storm clouds, Hissin’s lips curled into a long, thin smile.  

Boom, crash!

Dry lightning flashed, and without warning, a torrential downpour began. The rain extinguished all the fires surrounding the altar in an instant.  

The collapsed altar and extinguished flames—all signs pointed to the goddess’s wrath. The emperor and everyone present were struck with terror.  

“The… the goddess is angry…”  

“The goddess Nuit is furious!”  

Even in the heavy rain, the unquenched embers of fear spread rapidly from person to person. 

Terrified, they all prostrated themselves before Hissin on the altar, begging for forgiveness.  

“O divine gift! Please calm the wrath of the goddess Nuit!”

“O divine gift, spare us from punishment!”  

The soldiers tried to drive them away, but their efforts only fueled the people’s fear.  

In the end, all the people who had gathered to witness the sacrifice wept and wailed, prostrating themselves before Hissin on the altar.  

The scene was nothing short of bizarre.  

“Your goddess… has forsaken Baran.”  

Soaked to the bone, Hissin smiled faintly as he envisioned the impending chaos that would engulf Baran. 

It was the first genuine smile he had worn since arriving in the kingdom.