Grant Me Your Grace

“Didn’t you say last time that it was going to be published soon?”

Dahlia asked, and he paused for a moment to consider. Then Hovan let out a small sigh.

“Philosephone’s book will be hard to come by, Your Highness.”

“Why?”

“They say he was murdered by fanatics who labeled him a heretic, that everything he said was a devil’s twist.”

“Oh, my goodness…”

Dahlia’s mouth dropped open in shock.

《The Nuit Goddess is with us always and everywhere, but her presence is not always a joy.》

A philosopher and novelist of the Baran nation, he had made a name for himself in the world and was an enemy of many believers. 

This was because he portrayed the Nuit goddess, who was inviolable to the people of Baran, as something less than absolute.

But many defended Philosephone’s cause, arguing that the gods should not be viewed as miracle-workers and wish-fulfilled.

We could only truly see them when we were fully ourselves, in whatever form we were, in whatever situation we were in.

Dahlia deeply resonated with these ideas, and yet in the end, he was persecuted and killed as a heretic. Dahlia was overwhelmed with grief.

“It wasn’t the goddess he was against, but people’s attitudes toward life…”

“I don’t know about anything else, but he was certainly right about the goddess not being fair to everyone.”

“But…!”

Dahlia, who was about to refute Hovan’s words, fell silent. Defending Philosephone here would change nothing.

As if reading her thoughts, Hovan spoke up.

“I know the Princess liked his philosophy, but you shouldn’t be so open about it now. He clearly denied the goddess’s favor.”

Dahlia clenched her jaw at Hovan’s words, for it was precisely that philosophy that made her particularly fond of Philosephone’s books.

Unlike others who advocated blindly following the unseen and sometimes difficult love of the goddess, Philosephone was adamant that one must love and protect oneself first.

Even if I’m half buried in the mud, even if no one takes my hand, even if it seems as if the Goddess Nuit has abandoned me in the dark of night.

Instead of standing still and waiting for someone to come to my rescue, I must learn to pull myself out of the mud.

Those words were comforting to Dahlia. It seemed to say that the goddess would only reach out when she was able to save herself. 

If I didn’t give up, I could hold on to the hope that one day the goddess would reach out to me, as well.

It was not until I met Hissin that I realized for myself that Philosephone’s words were indeed true, and that the world was right to call it the devil’s twist.

So… tell me… who was Hissin then?

“Priest Hovan.”

“Speak, Your Majesty.”

Dahlia stared off into space, confused, then looked back at Hovan as if seeking answers.

“When you can’t tell if it’s the grace of a goddess or the twist of the devil, how can you discern it?”

At her question, Hovan hesitantly looked her in the eye, a direct gaze that seemed to penetrate her mind and uncover all the secrets she was hiding. Dahlia had to work hard not to look awkward.

“That, only the Goddess would know.”

Hovan stared into her eyes for a long moment, then spoke softly.

“It is harsh, but it is the truth. Only the Goddess knows what the Goddess wills. We can only trust and move forward.”

“Isn’t that… too scary?”

“Because faith is following even when you can’t see.”

Dahlia closed her gaping mouth. Her heart was still bitter, but she knew that asking for more answers was a path to hypocrisy. She forced herself to gather her emotions.

“That’s all for today. It’s time for prayer.”

With that, Hovan rose to his feet. Dahlia followed suit, and suddenly her eyes fell on the lewisia flowers by the window.

Angelic tears. Healing.

With the words running through her mind, Dahlia picked up the potted lewisia and held it out to Hovan.

“Priest Hovan, would you take this for me?”

Whether by the grace of the gods or the devil’s twist, she wanted to believe in the salvation that had come to her.

“I’ve heard that Lewisia thrives in full sun, and it’s sunnier in the temple than it is in the palace.”

“Well, but…”

“Many of my people will be coming to see this gift from the gods, and I’m sure some of them are sick.”

Dahlia lowered her gaze to the pot.

“I hope the words of this flower will take root in their hearts.”

Hovan’s brow furrowed thoughtfully, as if to see if Dahlia had other things on her mind, such as curiosity about the Gift of the Gods.

Dahlia feigned innocence and pushed the pot a little further forward. Eventually, Hovan took it as though he had no choice.

“The window in front of the window is the sunniest, so I’ll put it there.”

The laurel tree was where Hissin first appeared in Baran, where he met the people as a gift from the gods.

Where else would he be more visible? Dahlia smiled brightly and thanked Hovan.

“Thank you, Priest Hovan.”

“May the Goddess Nuit be always with you, Your Highness.”

And with that, Hovan left the room. Dahlia stood close to the window and watched as Hovan made his way toward the temple.

Thanks to Hissin, the blood price was gone. She wanted to thank him in some small way.

But I couldn’t tell him about the red spots in my own words, so I wanted to convey my feelings through Lewisia, whose flower means ‘healing’.

Even if he doesn’t know how I feel, the Goddess Nuit does.

Dahlia turned away from watching Hovan and gazed up at the sky. The sky was cloudless and clear, with a scarlet sunset.

“It’ll be clear tonight.”

When was the last time she had looked at a cloudless sky with such peace of mind? Even at night, when I couldn’t leave the palace, I didn’t feel so lonely.

A single ray of light in the deep caverns was the only thing that made me feel any less lonely.

“Bertha, please bring me dinner, I’m hungry after thinking so long.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Just a moment.”

Dahlia looked out the window again, her heart lighter.

Perhaps tonight I would fall asleep early.

✨

“May the Goddess Nuit be with you always.”

“Manla.”

The prayer ended, and the priests rose from their seats. High Priest Aaron left the prayer hall with Hissin, followed by a line of priests.

As they headed toward the monastery behind the temple.

“What is that? I didn’t notice it…”

Aaron asked, pointing to a spot, where a small pot of pink flowers lay at his fingertips.

“I brought it for you, High Priest.”

Aaron smiled brightly at Hovan’s words.

“I didn’t know the High Priest Hovan was fond of flowers.”

“A faithful worshiper offered them in prayer for the health and well-being of my people, for many pray there.”

“It must be because of the name of the flower, Lewisia, which means angel’s tears and healing.”

Hissin, who had been staring at the flower in silence until then, stepped forward. He gently brushed the petals with his fingertips, and they seemed to exude a damp freshness.

His red eyes suddenly widened in surprise.

“Down here, they give it to people with severe colds.”

Aaron approached, and Hissin wiped the frown off his face and forced a smile.

“Is it?”

“It’s a plant that is used from root to leaf, with nothing thrown away. It’s one of the gifts the Goddess Nuit gave us humans.”

Hissin briefly raised an eyebrow.

Every day, worshipers who came to pray to the gifts of the goddess brought all sorts of offerings to the shrine. 

By nature, Hissin wasn’t interested in riches, so this little potted flower was one of those things he had to pass by.

If it weren’t for the water lily symbol on the pot, it would have been.

Hissin glanced at the tiny water lily symbol on the bottom of the pot. It was identical to the water lily pattern embroidered on Dahlia’s robes.

The other priests didn’t see it, and they quickly forgot about Lewisia and moved on to other topics.

Flicking the water lily with his thumb, Hissin turned it toward the wall to hide it from prying eyes.