Play My Heart Like A Fiddle

"How can there be a perfect choice in this world—one that betrays neither the Sandharan Order nor the one you love?"

It's a romantic line, but it has nothing to do with Rosalie Stone. Her fiance, Bradley Wakefield, is a man revered like Sandhara himself, but it's not because of her that he leaves the Sandharan Order.

She thinks he will never fall in love. But later, she learns that it's just her that he won't fall for.

And so, she gives up on him. She gives herself seven days to forget about Bradley.

"Rosalie, are you sure you're willing to take Lola's place as the Sacred Goddess? Once you're ordained, you have to remain single for life. That means you have to call off your engagement with Bradley."

In a monastery filled with golden statues of Sandhara, the abbot, Stanley Brown, was speaking to Rosalie Stone. He had an aged voice, but his tone was kind.

Rosalie kneeled inside the main hall, a spot of cinnabar dotted on her forehead. She placed her hands together and said sincerely, "I'm sure."

She wasn't the one Bradley Wakefield loved, anyway. His heart belonged to Lola Lodge. If that were the case, she would give them her blessings and let them have what they wanted.

"I have a request, Abbot Brown." Rosalie lowered her gaze and continued, "Please don't tell anyone about this until I'm officially ordained as the Sacred Goddess. That includes Bradley and Lola."

Stanley agreed and told her she only had seven days to bid her family and friends goodbye. Once those seven days were up, she would no longer be Rosalie Stone. She would be the monastery's Sacred Goddess.

…

When Rosalie walked out of the main hall, she looked up to see a figure in white. Bradley approached from one end of the corridor, wearing a white monastic robe. His eyes were deep and unfathomable, but she sensed a hint of ice in them.

He frowned slightly at the sight of her. "What are you doing here?"

He didn't seem happy to see her, even though she was his fiancee. That stung her heart, but she ignored it and forced a casual smile. "I came to pray, of course."

Bradley's gaze turned icier, evidently not believing her. Well, it made sense. She'd been his tail for so many years and followed him everywhere he went. She wasn't interested in scripture at all, yet she'd read thick tomes of them just so they'd have something in common. She'd even hired a Zoltian teacher to teach her the language.

Zoltian was so hard to pick up. She wore herself out trying to memorize all its alphabets before finally attaining some success. Then, she'd run happily to the prayer room to look for Bradley. She'd shyly professed her love for him in Zoltian, yet he'd only responded to her joy with a frosty sentence.

"You're disrespecting and tainting the religion."

At that time, Rosalie had been too young to understand what he meant. How were her feelings for him a form of disrespect?

Later, she understood. Bradley had been revered as the reincarnation of Sandhara from the moment he was born. He was a saint placed on a pedestal for worshipping, a symbol of holiness. And so, her selfish love was a disrespect to him.

Just then, a melodic female voice rang out, "Brad!"

Lola, wearing a red and white striped monastic robe, ran toward them from the other end of the corridor. Her footsteps were light and deft. "Good news, Brad! Abbot Brown agreed to let me leave the Sandharan Order!"

She threw herself into Bradley's arms, her pretty face filled with excitement.

His expression softened when he caught sight of her. "How can that be? You're the Sacred Goddess, and you're supposed to be ordained in seven days. Why would Abbot Brown let you leave the order?"

"He said someone born on the exact day as me is willing to take my place as the Sacred Goddess." She beamed. "He also said I'm not a good fit for spending the rest of my life in a monastery because I still have mortal ties. That's why he let me go."

Bradley's usually calm gaze showed a rare hint of joy. "Really? That's great."

Everyone said a man of the monastery like him didn't have worldly desires and had a calm inner plane. Matters of the heart couldn't cause even the slightest ripple in his world.

Rosalie had believed that, but she now felt like a joke when she saw the brightness in Bradley's gaze. To him, her love was a form of disrespect. What did he think of his own feelings, then?