SALP Chapter 2

"Set the wedding for 100 days from now, Your Majesty. A period of purification is needed to restore the princess's sacred power."

Fiarelle suppressed the excitement bubbling up inside her stomach and feigned composure with a gentle smile.

How much had she struggled to reach this day?

"You mean I shouldn't touch the princess?"

"That is correct, Your Majesty. Since the princess is about to turn twenty, isn't the timing quite appropriate?"

She had even given troublesome advice to King Derek out of consideration for Lanthe. She worried that if a woman who could barely speak was forced into bed with her fiancé, her mental recovery might be delayed.

"She's a plucked flower anyway, Your Majesty. There's no need to be hasty about such matters."

"I trust you."

Derek nodded readily. He was a man who understood propriety.

Afterward, he didn't even set foot near the separate palace where Lanthe stayed. Instead, he took his lovers and frequented other villas. Thanks to this, Fiarelle could leisurely care for Lanthe.

"I'm sorry about what happened in Roas, Your Highness."

"Yes..."

"Please remember that it was an unavoidable sacrifice for the greater cause. You alone will be safe. You will continue to live safely, protected as a precious woman."

"Safely..."

Lanthe would listen carefully to Fiarelle's stories and repeat them. And little by little, she began to open her heart.

She ate properly, took walks, and tried to sleep despite the nightmares that sometimes woke her. She seemed to like the luxurious garden of the separate palace, staying there all day listening to Fiarelle's stories.

Recently, she even chose dresses and jewelry herself. Having conversations longer than a few words was limited to Fiarelle, and her tendency to flinch when encountering soldiers hadn't improved much, but these were problems that time would solve.

And so today, the 99th day.

"Ahh. You truly are beautiful, Your Highness."

Fiarelle let out a fresh exclamation while looking at Lanthe, who would become the king's bride tomorrow.

Even the trite comparison of an angel descending from heaven was elevated to literal truth when applied to her. Wearing a traditional Penmark dress made of pure white silk that gently embraced her body and fell in cascading silhouettes, Lanthe was as beautiful as a silver full moon rising in the early evening sky.

On the day they searched Roas three months ago, it was natural that Lanthe had captivated Derek at first sight. Even on that shabby day, her natural beauty had shone without fault.

Now, tomorrow, Lanthe Entridhal would become the most beautiful bride born in the new season of water.

"What if His Majesty asks me to sing again tomorrow?"

However, her servile attitude of watching others' faces hadn't become as beautiful as her appearance. At such times, Lanthe looked like a dull and fearful dog, making Fiarelle sigh time and again.

How much longer would she have to wait for this woman to acquire royal dignity?

"Don't worry about it, Your Highness."

Fiarelle didn't scold her but gently soothed her.

"Just think of it as practice and sing comfortably. Your Highness has such a lovely voice that even just reading the lyrics roughly would sound pleasant."

"I really hate singing. I often get the lyrics wrong and I'm tone-deaf..."

"You'll become good at it soon."

There was a song she would have to sing someday without fail.

When Eründel's angel sings, the paradise kingdom shall be reborn.

Fiarelle had been pondering the revelation text repeatedly.

First, 'Eründel' was the name of the Mediterranean lake between the old Kingdom of Raphlang and the Penmark Empire.

But regarding the 'Angel of Eründel,' interpretations varied widely. Some said it referred to the guardian angel of old Raphlang, others that it meant an angel to be newly born in Eründel for paradise's revival, while others believe that it was a metaphor for the swans living in Lake Eründel...

Fiarelle suspected there was a different correct answer.

Lanthe was precisely the 'Angel of Eründel.'

The 'angels' and 'dragons' in old stories were naturally nothing but metaphors. Then what else could be called an angel? Besides the most noble and beautiful daughter of the kingdom bordering Lake Eründel, what being was qualified to be called the 'Angel of Eründel'?

"I don't know any way to revive the kingdom..."

So even if she was foolish now, when the time came, she would awaken to her own power.

"You are a special person, Your Highness. You simply haven't realized it yet."

Fiarelle was certain.

"I don't have any special powers or anything..."

But Lanthe always looked troubled and mumbled.

However, today, for some reason, she had a whim and looked at Fiarelle with subtle eyes.

"Speaking of special abilities... I actually do have just one."

"Oh my, what kind of ability do you mean?"

"It's very small though."

She lowered her voice as if sharing a secret.

Her usually whisper-like tone became even quieter. The subtle wit hidden in her pale amethyst eyes seemed to glimmer secretly.

"Actually, I can make somewhat special angels by gathering snow. Really, really lovely and cute snow angels."

Ah, that's all...

"Oh, snow angels, how wonderful. Do you make angels out of snow like snowmen?"

Not such ridiculous games—that's not your power.

"That's right. Making the wings is a bit tricky though."

"I'd really like to see them too. Your Highness's cute snow angels."

That alone won't do. Do you understand?

You must prove your value of existence to us, Princess.

"You'll show me a snow angel this winter when it snows, won't you?"

Fiarelle hid her freezing heart and smiled.

"Well, the weather here is too warm..."

Lanthe turned the conversation away as if embarrassed and walked ahead.

"So warm... it really is a nice place."

The end of the season of winds, the Festival of Ailea. And the eve of the sacred wedding ceremony.

They conversed like friendly neighbors, talking about seasons and festivals as they crossed the rear garden.

And so, just before sunset, their destination was the lakeside in the vast field spread beyond the separate palace.

"Can you really bathe here, Your Highness?"

Fiarelle shivered in the cool breeze, but Lanthe nodded shyly.

"I'm not cold at all. I can't miss the chance to receive the moon's blessing before the wedding."

"Our princess has really come to love the moon goddess."

Despite frowning as if she couldn't stop her, Fiarelle smiled with satisfaction. In any case, it was admirable that the woman who would become King Derek's wife had come to love the god Derek worshipped.

They settled by the lakeside. Two soldiers stood guard at an appropriate distance.

Though it was a lake outside the palace, it was Derek's private space where outsider passage was forbidden. It was an open place where dangerous beasts wouldn't appear.

"Please keep it short so you don't catch cold."

"I will."

Lanthe removed only her thick coat and shoes and entered the shallow edge of the water wearing a light, single-layer dress.

She in the moonlit lake truly looked like a moon goddess. Her voice was sweet as she slowly washed her face first, then washed her slender arms while humming softly.

Was it that song she'd been practicing diligently lately? Forgetting the days when her heart had felt stuffy as she stumbled, saying she couldn't memorize the lyrics at all, Fiarelle watched Lanthe contentedly.

How beautiful. Quite lovely. The pretty flower seed that would fulfill my and my lord's wishes. A woman like a soft, cute cotton doll.

A leisurely sigh flowed from Fiarelle's lips. Despite the weather being cold enough to raise goosebumps, it was a peaceful time that made her drowsy.

When she was about to suggest they return to the palace since the temperature seemed to be dropping further—BOOM! With an explosion, a column of water shot up from the middle of the lake.

"Your Highness!"

A tremendous spray of water rose as if a huge boulder had fallen into the lake, about to swallow Lanthe as it poured down.

The knights leaped up as if bouncing off the ground and rushed forward.

"Damn it! Princess!"

However, they couldn't even approach the lake's edge and were bounced back by the tidal waves of waters that crashed over them. Fiarelle tried to grab Lanthe in alarm, but even she, who was right close by, couldn't reach her.

The water stretched out beyond the lake as if it were a living creature, pushing away the intruders.

"Is it a magical attack! From where exactly?"

"We must return to the palace immediately and report!"

"Your Highness! Come out quickly! Run!"

But Lanthe only stood blankly in the tidal wave. She was as calm as the eye of a storm in the center of the series of wave-like rushing waters, and when the water that had been swirling finally rose up like a giant serpent and writhed, she stared at the spectacle with widened eyes as if in shock.

Only her trembling lips moved, mumbling. As if calling someone. Surely she was frozen stiff and calling for help from Fiarelle. Like she sometimes did when looking at soldiers.

"Your Highness!"

Fiarelle stamped her feet and circled around the water that licked about like a monster's tongue. At least there was a round air layer like a protective barrier surrounding Lanthe, so fortunately there was no immediate danger of her drowning.

Who on earth would do such a thing? Why to the princess? Did someone exist somewhere with the same plan as Derek?

"Come this way quickly...!"

What a frustrating woman. Protecting a slow woman who couldn't even think to escape nimbly on her own was really... It was when Fiarelle gritted her teeth—

"...Angel."

At the voice that suddenly rang out clearly, Fiarelle stopped short.

"Lift me from the deadly swamp that blocks my path to the safe shore..."

Ancient language. The lost old language of Oden was flowing from Lanthe's lips.