"I can't resist temptation. That is my curse."
To be the future wife of the Grand Master of the Temple means a life of status, riches, and stability. It means you no longer have to pretend to be a boy, doing criminal acts to take care of your ailin...
Y/N took a bite of her apple, the juices sweeter than she remembered. Maybe it was the bright summer sun. Or the energy of the crowd around her enjoying the festival. Or perhaps it was because she hadn't paid for the apple. Whatever it was, her spirits were high and her energy full.
Taehyung looked at the shine of his apple, simply admiring it.
"Take your pick," he replied, waving around. "There are plenty of full pockets, ready to buy their reputation as the most devout disciple of the Star Goddess." He tsked and laughed. "What a strange and useless contest."
Y/N shrugged, taking another bite of her apple. "Reputation is worth more than the money itself. That's all anyone cares about in this country."
He nodded at her. "Even you."
"Even me? How dare you –"
"You got another reason to be wearing my clothes?" he asked, reaching out for her sleeve and tugging on it. "The fact that your mom thinks you're some sort of waitress is hilarious. You'd never take orders from anyone, not even a customer."
Y/N bit her apple again with a sour expression. "I had to tell her something that would explain the money I'm bringing home."
"Just tell her you're an atheist. It would upset her more than admitting you're a criminal."
"She'd hang me for both. She'd murder you as well."
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Taehyung sighed heavily, slipping his apple into his pocket. Y/N watched him, knowing his thoughts. She nudged him.
"But Mom likes you," she added. "You have a good heart."
He shrugged. "A good heart doesn't mean anything when the actions don't align."
Y/N snapped the apple into tiny pieces with her teeth, trying to ignore his poetic tangent. It was bad enough to hear her mother's constant religious verse at home. She didn't need to hear it in the middle of working, too.
Y/N threw her apple core in the bushes for the rats.
"Enough self-pity," she said. "Let's get to lifting the heavy financial load off these brainless disciples."
He nudged her. "Don't let the citizens hear you. They'll tell the Grand Master."
"Let them. I'll tell her to her face, if they want."
At least, Y/N would have if she knew who the Grand Master was. Y/N didn't even know what the Grand Master looked like. The Grand Master was supposed to be a woman of maybe eighty now, never coming down the mountain to the city because of her age, and because she was training her successor. Her successor was her grandson, who was said to be blessed by the Star Goddess in both eternal beauty and grace.
But no one was that beautiful. And it didn't matter if they were, anyways. Anyone running a government off of the texts of an elusive goddess was a nutcase.
