"Let me see her."
The priests who were all huddled together suddenly made way for someone from the back. The man who spoke walked towards Euphemia.
Her eyes widened at the sight of him. His hair was like honey, golden and gleaming. His eyes were golden also, like the sparks of a fire. His face and body was a sculpted perfection. This must be what Apollo, the Sun God, looks like.
He was wearing a white coat with gold embellishments and she could see that there was a gold rapier hanging from his side. He carried an air of authority. No, it was regality. It could only be him.
The prince.
This was the main lead himself.
He smiled at her. His smile was like a warm ray of sunshine.
A regular girl would have already blushed and babbled in panic for being in front of this ultimate incarnation of a prince. Euphemia was not a regular girl. She was already used in seeing the face of her "handsome" ex-fiancé and it only irritated her. They had the same expression - an expression that knew women instantly fell for them.
"I am the crown prince, Prince Vincent of Aderlan," he said and smiled sweetly at her.
"I assume you'll tell me that there's no way back to my own world," Euphemia said, unaffected by his looks.
The prince looked momentarily startled but he softened his features quickly.
"Yes, we do beg your forgiveness for that," he said. "Our empire needs the power of the saintess and that saintess is you, my lady."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm not your lady."
There was a collective gasp.
The prince smiled but there was a hint of panic in his voice. "It is merely a manner of how we respectfully call women, my lady."
"You can call me 'Saintess' or 'Lady Euphemia' Just don't call me your lady because I'm not," Euphemia said coldly.
She wasn't sure if it was his face that irritated her or maybe it was the fact that she was reincarnated inside a novel where the Saintess dies in the end. How could she be happy with that?
"Lady Euphemia, you will have nothing to worry about. You can stay with me in the Imperial Palace and you shall be provided with anything you wish for. You will have a full wardrobe and a set of servants that will be at your beck and call. I, myself, will be at your service also," Prince Vincent said. He looked proud of himself.
"Why should I stay with you?" Euphemia asked with her eyebrow raised.
"Because you're my fiancée, Lady Euphemia," the prince said with a smile. He seemed to be expecting for a delighted reaction.
She looked at him in shocked disgust.
He didn't even ask her! He just simply declared her as her fiancée. Euphemia was sick of people deciding who she will marry.
"No, you're not. I haven't decided to be your fiancée and you didn't even ask me," Euphemia said. She didn't hide her irritation anymore.
"Will you be m—"
"No. You're not my type," Euphemia interrupted.
There was a collective gasp again.
"So shameless!"
"Is she really the Saintess?!"
"Such impudence!"
Euphemia glared at the priests and they went quiet.
"You summoned me here in your world without my consent and you can't even bring me back. I think it's my right to decide on where I stay and who I'm going to be with," Euphemia said loudly.
The prince looked confused. He wasn't prepped on what to say in this kind of situation. No one had ever rejected him. He thought that she would be happy to be engaged to him. There must be something wrong with her head.
"I know that you brought some of your people with you. Let me see them. I'm going to decide which house I'm going to stay in," Euphemia said.
Prince Vincent blinked. Was she ordering him?
"No? Fine. I'll go to your neighbor kingdom instead. Maybe I'll find better accommodations there," Euphemia said and turned her back.
"No! I mean, yes! Please wait, Lady Euphemia!" The prince panicked. As if he was reminded of his status, he composed himself quickly.
"Friends of the Imperial Family, come to the front. The Saintess wishes to see all of you," Prince Vincent said loudly.
The priests made way for the crowd of aristocrats as they came forward.
The prince began to introduce them to her. They were the heads of aristocrat families. Most of them already looked old but still distinguished.
"Count Aderfeld, he owns the jewelry making business here. He has a mansion beside the lake. Count Sherraford of..."
Euphemia was no longer listening. She was searching for someone.
There were so many of them. She looked at their heads instead. Yellow hair, brown hair, no hair, yellow, gray, gray, bald, gray ... BLACK!
"Him! I want him!"
Everyone turned to see to whom she was pointing at. Their eyes widened at her choice. They couldn't believe it. She had chosen the least reputable head of the family!
"Are you sure, Lady Euphemia? I haven't even introduced him to you yet," Prince Vincent said with a panicked look. Choose anyone! Anyone but him! He wanted to say.
"Yes, I'm sure. I already know him," Euphemia smiled. "Duke Lucien, may I please stay with you?"
It was widely believed that he was the cause of the fire that killed all of his family members.
The Saintess had just chosen the Demon Duke of Aderlan.