Chapter 76 The Cunning Saintess
Didier held Lysandra's shoulders. His hands were trembling. He stared at her intently, trying to make sure she would stop crying.?
"Listen," Didier's voice was hoarse. "Gisella... she's nothing. I never had any feelings for her. Honestly, when she asked to break it off in front of Father, I felt relieved. Like a weight that's been crushing my chest for so long was finally lifted."
Lysandra went silent. Her shoulders were still heaving with sobs. She stared at the floor, as if she were just a flower wilting underfoot.
"Then why be afraid?" Lysandra whispered.
"My mother," Didier answered quickly. "Just her. Mother is still obsessed with the Mercer family alliance. She won't let this engagement end just like that without a scene."
Didier took a deep breath. He looked at Lysandra. Her eyes looked clear, pure, and full of gentleness. To Didier, there was none of Gisella's arrogance here. No dirty political ambition.
"But I will talk to Father," Didier continued, his confidence growing.
"I'll convince them. You're different, Lysandra. You're pure, you have healing powers that are rare. This kingdom needs someone like you. When they see how meaningful you are for the stability of the empire, they won't have any reason to refuse."
Didier said it with sincerity. He felt it was the most logical reason. He wasn't talking about cheap love. He was talking about assets. About how a temple saintess capable of healing the people was more valuable than the political support of the Mercer family.
Lysandra stopped sobbing. She slowly looked up. The tears on her cheeks hadn't fully dried, making her skin look even smoother under the dim light.
"You'll really do it for me?" Lysandra's voice was like silk. Soft, quiet, but piercing.
"I'll do anything."
Didier leaned down and kissed Lysandra's forehead for a long time. He didn't notice the shift in her expression. Behind Didier's embrace, Lysandra no longer looked like a victim in need of protection. Her lips curved. A smile appeared slowly—sweet, so sweet, but with something sharp behind it.
A victory smile, hidden tightly away. She didn't need love if she could get the throne in a much more elegant way. Lysandra tightened her hug, hiding her face against Didier's chest. She was the winner tonight, and Didier was just a pawn who had just moved exactly where she directed.