Chapter 3 When the priest of Cupid, whose love burned fiercely, raised his head, his eyes…

Darkness enveloped the plains. There were no palaces, only a roaring campfire and two girls sitting opposite each other.

A girl with long, golden-red hair sat cross-legged in front of the campfire, leaning against a tree trunk and affectionately brushing leaves from the hair of a black-haired girl. "Don't worry, Eleanor, I'll lead you out of here."

"..." The black-haired girl looked up, gazing deeply, deeply at the blurry figure by the campfire.

The flames gilded her honey-colored skin with a thin layer of gold, dyeing her already bright eyes, eyebrows, and long hair with a fiery hue, and setting her golden eyes ablaze.

How beautiful—Andra.

"Hmm?" Andra smiled, her eyes narrowing, her fingers dangling from her dark hair. She gently grasped her lover's wrist and whispered in his ear, "What's with that smile? Trust me, we'll be here soon—"

“I believe you will lead me out of here soon.” Eleanor shook off the restraints and grasped her hand in return. The pressure of her fingers was so deep that it could leave a mark on anyone’s fingers.

But Andra showed no sign of pain or displeasure. She easily pulled Eleanor up again and ran toward the dark forest.

Rustle, rustle.

Eleanor's skirt brushed against the bushes, and the slender branches parted as Andra approached.

I remember now.

That day, Andra led me out of the forest.

We are safe, very safe. As long as I'm with Andra... I'll be safe.

Fragments of memory churn in my brain; these are things that definitely happened.

However, another vague thought repeatedly denied it: No, we didn't go out, we never did.

"I really remember now."

The voice in her mind had lost some of the malice it had displayed during the day, and was almost indistinguishable from the real Eleanor. She said—

"I'd rather be trapped in that forest with Andra forever, I'd rather, I'd rather die that day!"

Yes, Eleanor wholeheartedly agreed.

It started as a nightmare.

She was terrified of the dark, terrified of being alone, and even more terrified of being caught and killed in the forest, ultimately turning into a pile of bones. Even with Andra holding her wrist tightly, her body did not stop trembling.

But the nightmare ended, terminated by Andra's sword.

Eleanor still vividly remembers Andra's confident smile, her golden-red hair rising with the morning sun, the passionate young woman never showing any fear.

They emerged from the forest, stepping over the corpses of their pursuers. The two had survived the ordeal; the delicate little princess tripped over a stone, and Andra washed her feet by the clear stream.

"Later, this place became my beautiful dream."

The girl who had been running with her lover in her dream slowed down. Her lover was strong, and the touch of his skin was warm, but a deeper, dull pain, like an iron chain, still held her still.

What a beautiful couple, what a wonderful dream.

Eleanor looked up ahead, and her Andra stopped too. Even though they were far, far away from the campfire, every strand of her flowing hair still shone with a breathtaking golden-red hue.

“Eleanor?” Andra’s smile froze.

Because she had the same expression back then, using a confident and courageous smile to soothe her fearful lover and give her boundless courage.

So later this dream became Eleanor's recurring beautiful dream. No matter what she encountered during the day, as long as she dreamed of that campfire and the girl from that day at night, her mood would calm down.

She would never have to leave the forest or hide from pursuers; staying by the campfire would be enough to make her happy, because Andra was in the safest place in the world.

This belief persisted for decades, and continues to this day—

Shh, shh. Crack!

The wind blew through the dark branches and leaves, and clumps of thorns surged forth as she shook off Andra, their sharp thorns digging deep into her legs and feet.

Her curly black hair fluttered in the wind like seaweed. Eleanor took a deep breath and burst into a huge howl from her chest.

"No, you don't want me to leave at all! You never... you never..." Tears streamed down her face.

"You never wanted to protect me; you only loved yourself!"

Andra moved her lips, but no sound came out.

Everything in the dream shattered inch by inch, her beautiful face turned to dust in an instant, and a sigh fell in the misty light.

“Eleanor…”

"Your Highness Eleanor."

"Ann," Eleanor opened her eyes and saw Manju's gray hair. She was lying in Manju's arms, her body swaying slightly as the carriage moved forward.

"We're almost there." Manzhu hugged her gently, just like when they were children, supporting her frail body with her strong shoulders.

After fleeing the palace, she reverted to her former title, as if everything had been rewound and started anew.

However, time cannot be reversed.

With Manju's support, Eleanor slowly sat up, rubbing her forehead in pain: they had temporarily escaped. After all, she had been a powerful queen for decades; finding an opportunity to leave the palace where she was "resting" was not difficult.

The difficulty lies in predicting how long it will take for Andra's men to catch up.

Eleanor pressed her fingers on her temples with extra force: The news could probably be kept under wraps for three or four days? They've been out for two weeks now, which means Andra must already know about it.

However, she's still on the battlefield in Norlanna and can't return quickly with her army. Andra will likely return to the capital after the campaign ends and then send a special envoy to pursue her.

This gave her and her followers ample time to escape, but it was the people who remained in the palace to help cover for her that suffered.

Fortunately, she specifically chose to keep those who were obedient, useful, and of high status to Andra first. Given Andra's personality, she would surely show magnanimity and not really make things difficult for them.

Next is—

Manzhu lifted the curtain of the carriage window for her, letting the rolling mountains outside come into view.

......

In the sweltering heat of midsummer, sunlight casts fiery red hues across the fragrant grass.

Birds flitted among the leaves, while wild beasts crouched among the bushes.

The mountains are quiet today, especially Mount Eros, which stands among the "Gaia Pearls".

Mount Eros connects to the lush green earth, like the flowing skirt of a goddess.

However, its upper part soars into the clouds, and even in the hottest summer, it has a thin layer of snow on top, resembling an exquisite dessert upside down on a plate.

There are many different versions of creation myths, but the beginning remains constant.

The creator goddess Gaia gave birth to 12 infants in the void. These 12 infants grew up in the river of their mother's blood in an instant, and were lifted up by the wind and water wheels. In the sunlight and moonlight, they transformed into girls with different appearances, personalities, and talents.

They received wisdom, power, prosperity, and many other authority from the Mother Goddess, and raised up their newborn creations from the river of blood.

Among the many powers of Lilia, the goddess of love, are marriage and covenants.

Through his long interactions with mortals, He learned that not every passionate love can last.

When love is no longer present in a marriage, the stronger party can easily abandon the weaker party, or even drag the weaker party into a quagmire from which they can never escape.

Thus, Cupid—or the goddesses who created the legends of Cupid—gave all the vulnerable in marriages a lifeline.

Climbing Mount Eros.

Anyone who climbs Mount Eros in the presence of the gods' attendants and stands before the statue cuts off a lock of their hair.

Regardless of her identity or the reasons she bears, she can unilaterally declare the marriage over at this moment. Even if there are past causes and effects that need to be settled, from this day forward, her marriage with her "lover" will never exist again.

Legends are always romantic, but the actual events always change in various ways during their execution.

Even disregarding other factors, those divine attendants who live far removed from worldly affairs may not necessarily have time every day to witness the ascent of a mortal.

Today is clearly different.

From the moment the sun rises above the horizon, before even the dew has evaporated, two rows of people adorned in red and green appear on the carpet-like grass.

The high priest, dressed in a snow-white robe, personally descended the sacred mountain and stood before the crowd, gazing into the distance.

The sunlight danced on the grass for a long time, and finally, small black dots appeared on the horizon.

These tiny black dots moved continuously under everyone's gaze, gradually dragging out an entire train convoy.

The snow-white priestess waved her long robe and strode forward, while the Cupid attendants behind her, adorned with flower wreaths, eagerly raised their hands, scattering petals covered in fragrant dew from their sleeves.

The caravan slowly came to a stop amidst the rain of flowers, and an ivory-colored carriage emerged from the middle of the procession and stopped in front of the priest.

The carriage door opened, and a tall samurai was the first to step out.

She looked around, then reached out and helped a haggard-looking woman out of the car.

Each greeter wore a smile, more or less.

The smiles were initially exaggerated, but the intense memories made them relax after seeing the Queen's face clearly, revealing genuine respect and concern.

Eleanor gently nudged Manju's chest and steadied herself in front of the priest.

She clasped her hands together in front of her chest and bowed deeply: "Please promise me—"

The priest quickly took the queen's arm and gently comforted her, "Angie, no one will refuse your request."

She walked around to the queen's side and, like a close friend, took her arm as they walked toward the sacred mountain. "But it's too late today; it's too dangerous to climb the mountain now."

Eleanor paused for a moment, then nodded in understanding.

We started climbing in the afternoon, and by the time we reached the summit, the sun had already set. We couldn't very well arrange for her to stay in the temple at the top of the mountain, could we? That place was specifically used to house statues of gods and goddesses.

As she walked, she suddenly felt like laughing.

Because Angie, as the queen of a nation, could declare that she would stay overnight on the sacred mountain. But once she reached the summit, she would no longer be the queen.

"Heh." Eleanor's soft chuckle drew the priest's attention, and she quickly shut her lips and shook her head at the priest.

They circled around the foot of the mountain and climbed the steps along the snow-white stone slabs, soon arriving at the Temple of Love halfway up the mountain.

Everyone smiled, and no one mentioned that she had skipped the initial section of the path. Anyway, this place was called "Sacred Pass," and as long as the temple permitted, one could certainly start climbing from here.

The temple doors were wide open for the queen, and attendants wearing floral crowns moved about in the courtyard.

The rest of the caravan was seated outside the door, except for Eleanor, who was affectionately led by the priest into the depths of the corridor.

As the waiters' laughter and chatter faded into the distance, Eleanor's nerves slowly tightened.

She gazed at the towering palace, fearing she might glimpse the furrowed brows of a king behind the walls. Suddenly, surrounded by wisteria, she saw a girl's smiling face and could almost hear her tender call.

"Eleanor."

"Anqi".

The priest's sudden call startled Eleanor. She awkwardly shrugged and nodded slightly: "What did you say?"

The priest stopped under the wisteria trellis.

Her face was bright and youthful, yet her eyes conveyed kindness and gentleness.

"Actually, the year you married Anya, I was just a junior servant in the temple."

The priest smiled, as if he were just having a casual chat with a friend.

She casually pressed Eleanor's hand and said in a nostalgic tone, "The priest took me to the capital for your wedding back then. My sisters and I were so jealous before we even saw you!"

The emotion in her voice was so genuine, so captivating, that it almost instantly transported you to a wedding scene filled with blooming flowers.

The streets were bustling, flower petals were showering the emperor with gifts, and nobles were throwing baskets of coins into the crowd.

It was a bright and sunny morning, the beginning of a year of favorable weather.

Countless strong and beautiful young women rode swiftly ahead on horseback, while renowned poets loudly chanted verses of blessing. They praised the king's wedding and celebrated the peace that had finally arrived!

Commoners, nobles, and even many slaves who had secretly come to join the fun—everyone surged onto the streets, jostling and pushing like a tide, only to be dispersed to the side by the sheriffs arranged by Angie.

The attendants of Cupid, of course, did not need to crowd below to watch; they rode in carriages to a special pavilion and looked down from the high tower.

Oh, what a handsome king, our great Anya—

Her long, golden-red hair shimmered in the sunlight, and the heavy headdress and accessories looked so light on her, like gold leaf adorning a statue of a deity.

The king rode a golden chariot, which was decorated with auspicious marigolds.

Each of the white horses pulling the chariot was taller than the previous steeds, and the king's body was more imposing than any of the warriors.

Today is her wedding day. Her bright red shawl flutters in the wind, almost transforming into the shape of wings.

The vibrant sea of ​​flowers becomes a mere backdrop, while the servants who dedicate their lives to Cupid are none other than the purest, most innocent young girls in the throes of first love.

Wearing a flower crown, she reached out to the king just like her sisters, shouting with the fervor of a most ardent suitor, and opening her heart wide.

Longing, admiration, love at first sight, and—it's only natural to feel jealousy towards the legendary, incredibly wise Angie.

However, when Wang turned the car around and drove to the other side, those slightly mournful but fervent calls transformed into an even more astonishing torrent.

......

“You have always been beautiful, Angie.” The priestess took Eleanor’s hand and, like a common woman, bowed her head to kiss her ring. “Your wisdom has added luster to your crown, but it was then that adorned you…”

The priestess of love raised her head, her eyes reflecting the Eleanor of the past.

"It is happiness."

A note from the author:

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In the mythology of this world, Gaia is the creator goddess.

People believe that "a" is the first cry a baby makes when it is born (from the gods), a cry to its mother (Mom). Therefore, the sound "a" in a name represents the mother and her blessings. That's why the rate of duplicate names is quite high.