The reason Theophania wore a veil was rather stupid, in a tragic way. Or, was it tragic in a stupid way?
Regardless, it all started years before her birth, as such stories always did. The world she was born in was a fantasy world, after all, so it was only natural that a Demon King should arise at some point. Among the Heroes sent to fight it were Theophania's parents; King Theodore Albrecht I and the Saintess, Lady Keira Shay. Together with their comrades, they defeated the Demon King and saved the continent from certain destruction.
Had the story ended there, it might have been a happy one.
Alas, the story was about Theophania, not her parents, and a story without conflict isn't much fun to read.
After defeating the Demon King, Theodore Albrecht brought the Saintess back to his kingdom to be his Queen. One of them, anyway. The wife he'd abandoned to go off fighting alongside the Heroes of other nations had kept the great kingdom of Acan running in his absence. Her tight control of the nation's nobility and ruthless application of law had earned her the moniker Iron Queen. All this while raising a child who had never met his father. How shocked must she have been to see her husband returning from war with another woman in his arms—and his heart. Aiyah~, such a tragedy.
She had every right to be upset. Her husband's infidelity aside, her child's position as heir could be usurped at any time if the Saintess bore a son. Given the circumstance, it made perfect sense for her to plot against her husband's new wife. I probably would have done the same, were I in her shoes. Well, maybe not exactly the same. Bribing the previous Archbishop to proclaim the newborn Theophania's eyes 'cursed by the Demon King' was a little excessive, even for me. Still, I couldn't help but sympathize with the Queen. She was my favorite character, right until the end.
Of course, that was back before I was Theophania. Now, I was the one bearing the 'Demon King's curse', and it was so annoying. I could barely see through the veil I had to wear everywhere I went, and I always had pain in my neck at the end of the day from watching my feet to keep from tripping over things. The embroidered fabric was beautiful, though, and blessed by priests of all different faiths to keep the 'curse' at bay.
I was almost a little sad to watch it flutter away when a large, armored hand caught me before I could follow it down the stairs. I winced as blessed steel dug into my diaphragm. Bracing myself against his arm, I looked up at Ser Valerian. Because of the veil, I never knew what anyone around me looked like. I instead learned to identify them from a combination of their footsteps, voices, and silhouettes.
Naturally, I had no idea that Ser Valerian had red hair. Or a beard. Or a broken nose in an otherwise perfectly handsome face. It was no wonder all the young initiates swooned over him. His eyes were chocolate brown and wide with—.
Oh. Right. How stupid of me.
I turned my gaze down to my feet and made sure I could support my own weight before curtsying to the handsome paladin. "Forgive me, Ser Valerian," I said as tonelessly as I could. "Thank you for catching me."
He shifted his weight and I had the feeling he was about to speak, but he was cut off.
"You vile wretch," the abbot spat. He marched back up the stairs until he stood right in front of me. "You dare to cast your curse on a paladin of Alítheia? I should lock you in the hall of penance and forget about you!"
I kept my face blank and my eyes downcast. I wanted to kneel down and retrieve my veil, but that would only put me in the perfect position for a beating. I thought I would be able to avoid one with Ser Valerian and the new Archbishop around, but… I sighed internally. I should have been watching my feet. From the corner of my eye, I saw the abbot raise his hand and I tensed in anticipation of a blow.
"That is quite enough."
The Archbishop's voice was no longer gentle. He didn't shout, but his sharp tone cut like a knife. The abbot stumbled to one side, tripping over his feet and his words as he tried to curry any favor he'd lost with his guest. The Archbishop climbed the steps up toward me. His fancy shoes were the only things I let myself look at.
"Relax, my child." I hadn't even noticed how tense I was. "I won't hurt you."
I felt the familiar zing of Theophania's power run through me and I knew he was telling the truth. It was an unreliable power on the best of days. I knew when someone was lying only when I could see them—or, part of them, anyway—and even then I didn't know why they were lying or what the truth was. It helped me avoid people with obvious ill intentions back when I was still new to this world. A princess in exile is still a princess. Many people tried to take advantage of me, back then.
A pair of wizened hands reached out for mine, and I almost recoiled. The Archbishop's grip was strong, but not unkind. His skin was dry as paper and I shivered reflexively.
"Your Highness," he said softly. "May I see your eyes?"
Ah. This was it. The big moment that kickstarted the original novel series. I was kind of hoping to avoid it, if I was honest. Theophania's life was hardly what one would call idyllic. If my life went anything like hers…Aiyah~. It was better to just stay in the monastery forever.
Although…it would be nice to finally take off that veil.
Slowly, with a hesitance I didn't have to fake, I raised my head. The Archbishop was an elderly man with wispy white hair and kind, smiling eyes. He was shorter than me and seemed even smaller because he was standing on a lower step. Despite his age, or perhaps because of it, his gaze was strong when it met mine. It felt like he was looking right through me and I shivered again.
His bushy brows furrowed into a frown and for a split second, I thought I might actually be cursed.
"Which idiot called this a curse?"
Ha!
I bit my cheek to keep from laughing, but the Archbishop saw right through me.
"Oho, it looks like you're already aware of it, Your Highness. In that case, do you wish to tell them, or shall I?"
My lips turned up on their own and I smiled at the kindly old man who would probably end up ruining my life. He smiled back and for a moment, we were wrapped in the joy of a mutual secret.
That moment ended when Father Rowan gathered his courage and stepped forward. "Tell us what, Your Excellency?"
"Hmph!" The Archbishop crossed his arms and frowned. "This is not a curse, it's a stigmata! The princess has been marked by the Gods."
There it was. Life: officially ruined.
Aiyah~, at least the palace would have better food, right?
"Stigmata," Ser Valerian said in an almost whisper. "Then, that would mean…"
The Archbishop smiled proudly at the paladin. "Yes, indeed! Princess Theophania Albrecht is a Saintess, just like her mother." He sighed and shook his head with palpable distaste. "Who in their right mind would look at eyes like those and see a curse?"
I kept my mouth shut. As much as I would love to drag his predecessor through the mud, I didn't want to burn any bridges. He kept muttering about 'incompetent idiots', though. It was actually a little cute.
A hand came to rest on my arm and I turned to look into Father Rowan's teary eyes. Though he was the one who raised Theophania—and then me when I took her place—neither of us had ever seen his face. I stared at him in surprise and couldn't stop myself from voicing my thoughts.
"You're so young!"
Father Rowan looked like he was caught between being sad and being insulted. "Did you think I was old?" A smile was my only answer. He reached up and pinched both my cheeks with a watery scowl. "You brat! Ah, look at you. I never thought I would ever see your beautiful face."
I bit my lip. "Were you afraid?"
"Never."
My power zapped me and I knew it was a lie. I didn't call him out on it, though. My life was about to get ridiculously difficult. I needed every ally I had.
And maybe a few more.