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“Ah, right. The Diary of Roo was one of the seven sacred relics of gabrielism, wasn't it? I remember learning about it in theology class. The classes were dreadfully boring, but I remember things like the seven sacred relics, the seven myths, and the seven holy sites quite well.”
The gaze he turned toward me was infinitely tender. Even without words, I could feel a comfortable affection emanating from him. Since Igor seemed to enjoy his time with me, I also found the moments spent with him pleasant.
“I understand. When I was young, it was my dream to visit the seven holy sites of gabrielism. May I ask which part you need assistance with?”
“Hmm... Igor, have you ever read the entire copy of the Diary of Roo?”
“No, I attempted it several times, but I failed every time. It feels wrong to say this about a sacred relic, but since it is literally a diary, most of it is so tedious that it's impossible not to doze off. Nevertheless, I will help you as much as I can.”
“Then, would there be any mention of curses or blessings in this book?”
“Yes, Roo is the progenitor of the prophets. At that time, the power and influence of gabrielism were far more potent than they are today, and various magical acts were performed, so they are frequently mentioned in the diary.”
Magical acts...
“What I'm curious about are the curses or blessings bestowed upon prophets. Could you find any parts where that is mentioned, even briefly?”
I added jokingly that my eyes felt like they were going to pop out from trying to translate while comparing it with a dictionary, but Igor did not laugh along with me.
His expression stiffened, just as it had on the day we met at the Nikitin ball. It wasn't a face showing anger or rage, but...
“Is this because of Count Nariyan?”
He was certainly that serious.
I swallowed hard. I knew with what heart Igor mentioned Valentin. He must have been bothered by the rumors that circulated at the Imperial Ball.
‘Sigh.’
It might sound cold, but it made me uncomfortable when Sergei or Igor... cared about Valentin or showed hostility toward him. To be even colder, it went beyond discomfort; it felt as if my heart were turning ice-cold.
Was it because of Valentin?
Yes. If I could find the cause of this unbelievable phenomenon—returning to a day when I was five years old from the moment of death, something that was practically a curse—and identify it, I would even want to fix it.
But could Sergei and Igor possibly understand this emotion? Would they even believe it? No, in all honesty, I didn't want to make them understand, nor did I see any reason why I should. Why should I have to justify my relationship with Valentin?
I flipped through the pages to hide my displeasure. Igor was a man of kind nature and a gentle smile, though he could be somewhat stiff and dry. I didn't want to be rude to him.
“Hmm? Valentin? It has nothing to do with him. I don't think he's received any particular blessing or curse... though there are parts that are suspiciously similar. For instance, his looks.”
“....”
“I studied theology under Bishop Parben when I was young, and perhaps because I slacked off so often, I was frequently given homework during prayer time. As you know, gabrielism takes great pride in Valentin, right? There are many related topics, and this is a part of that.”
Sorry, Bishop Parben. I'll apologize in advance.
“Bishop Parben's pride is indeed great. In actual theology classes, the Order of the Oracle tended to be neglected, but as Count Nariyan's fame began to spread, their prominence increased significantly.”
I thought it was a pretty decent excuse, and Igor accepted it easily. Though he might have just pretended to accept it...
After that, we focused on the Diary of Roo for a while.
To be precise, Igor focused on the Diary of Roo, and I focused on his reactions. Occasionally, our eyes would meet, and seeing him look strangely bashful was so amusing that I stared at him even more persistently.
‘Igor's ears turn bright red when he's embarrassed.’
Looking closely, he seemed to blink his eyes a bit more frequently as well.
In truth, is he someone who is actually very shy, hiding himself behind a heavy and cold impression?
“My apologies, Your Highness.”
Perhaps because I had been observing him with such interest. When he suddenly apologized, a pang of guilt pierced my heart.
“Why, why? Is it because of me? Or is the book... too thick after all?”
“Perhaps because I have neglected my theology studies recently, it is taking some time to read the Tiemut language. It feels as though I am receiving a punishment for my lack of restraint here.”
Phew, thank goodness.
Igor looked genuinely disappointed in himself over something as simple as a slow translation.
“Ah. It's fine. I'm the one who made an unreasonable request right before the public prayer meeting, so... anyway, I'm planning to receive the translated version regardless. Good work.”
“If it is acceptable, I will separately organize the matters you inquired about within a week.”
Just as I looked up with a look that said there was no need for that, Igor immediately followed up.
“It is a subject that interests me in many ways as well. Please leave it to me.”
Was it a matter of pride? Then again, Igor said he was a devout believer of gabrielism.
I had already agreed to receive the copy from Bishop Parben, but... facing Igor's earnest expression, I couldn't bring myself to firmly refuse.
“Alright. Thank you for your consideration, Igor.”
Unable to delay any longer, I left the room with him.
‘As I thought, he's comfortable.’
Walking alone together, staying in a space alone together. It wasn't burdensome or awkward; it was comfortable.
It was a strange thing. I usually don't feel intimacy toward those with whom I don't have a deep connection. But when I was with Igor, the notion that the depth of a connection is proportional to the depth of intimacy became meaningless.
‘Is this the answer after all?’
Marriage to Igor.
Throughout my life, I have been asked countless questions and required to make countless choices, but this is the first time I haven't found a clear answer regarding choosing a marriage partner.
Because I had matured early at a young age and easily distinguished right from wrong, I felt even more frustrated with myself. Perhaps it was also partly because those around me treated my marriage not as a 'duty that must be endured as a princess,' but as a 'plan for my own happiness and peace.'
What does marriage even matter?
Vasily and Tatyana had begun sharing the duties that the head of the Imperial Family must handle, and Ivan had been performing countless missions I knew nothing about as a member of the special forces, Horgan.
And what about me?
‘All I do is shut myself in a room and pick a groom I like. Comparing it like this makes me feel even more self-loathing.’
But how could a marriage for happiness be something that doesn't matter?
‘Yes, it's simple. There's nothing more to worry about. Let's go with Igor.’
I'll marry Igor.
Once I marry, my siblings will have no time to worry about the happy marriage of the youngest... Now that I've made up my mind, I couldn't feel more relieved.
Emma was waiting for me in front of the carriage.
The moment she spotted Igor escorting me, her subtly tense gaze turned into a sharp look, as if she were sorting through a piece of fabric with holes in it. She looked ready to scold him the moment she found a single flaw, which made me burst into laughter.
“I think Emma is really cute. Don't you agree, Igor?”
“While Emma is lovely, she cannot be compared to Princess Larisa.”
I felt a bit embarrassed by his firm denial. I didn't mean for him to compare her to me...
The moment I was about to board the carriage, Igor lightly pulled my hand and asked.
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