Chapter 16 – The Hero is “Tired,” So If You Look at Him, I’ll Gouge Your Eyes Out

【Elizabeth PoV】

The Hero’s head lolled against my shoulder, perfect and unconscious.

I adjusted my grip, cradling his massive frame like he weighed nothing at all. Divine enhancement flooded my muscles, turning bone and sinew into something beyond mortal limitation. He felt light in my arms, almost weightless, like carrying a particularly large pillow that happened to have abs and the face of an angel.

The crowd pressed in from all sides.

City guards pushed through the mob of gawking citizens, their silver armor catching the afternoon sun. I could see the panic in their eyes, the way their hands trembled on their sword hilts. They’d seen what happened in the market square, the explosion of holy light, the destruction.

They were terrified.

Good.

A captain stepped forward, his helmet tucked under one arm. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the cool breeze.

“Saintess Elizabeth, what—”

“The Hero used a forbidden technique.”

I cut him off with ice in my voice, each word sharp enough to draw blood.

The captain’s mouth snapped shut. His eyes darted to the unconscious Hero in my arms, then back to me. I watched his throat bob as he swallowed hard.

“A forbidden technique, Your Holiness?”

“Divine Mana Exhaustion.”

I shifted the Hero’s weight, pulling him closer to my chest. His golden hair fell across his face in messy waves and I resisted the urge to brush it back. Not here, not with all these filthy eyes watching.

“He pushed his body beyond mortal limits to protect the city from a demonic threat.”

The lie rolled off my tongue like honey. Smooth, sweet, absolutely suffocating.

The captain glanced around at the shattered market stalls, the scorch marks on the cobblestones, the lingering traces of holy magic in the air. His brain was working overtime, trying to piece together what actually happened versus what I was telling him.

“I… I see. Should we summon the royal healers—”

“No.”

The word came out flat and final.

I took a step forward and the crowd parted like I was carrying a plague victim. Their fear rolled off them in waves and I drank it in, let it fuel the protective fury burning in my chest.

“The Hero requires absolute rest. No visitors, no healers, no disturbances of any kind.”

I let my eyes sweep across the assembled guards, making sure each one felt the weight of my gaze.

“Anyone who attempts to see him will answer to me personally.”

The threat hung in the air like smoke.

One of the younger guards, barely out of his teens, opened his mouth like he was about to say something stupid. The captain grabbed his shoulder hard enough to leave bruises.

“Understood, Your Holiness. We’ll establish a perimeter around the estate immediately.”

“You’ll do more than that.”

I adjusted the Hero’s position again, letting his head rest more comfortably against my neck. His breath tickled my skin and I had to suppress a shiver of pure euphoria.

“Every guard present today will take a Vow of Silence regarding what they saw.”

The captain’s face went pale.

“A Vow of Silence? But Your Holiness, that’s—”

“Sacred magic that binds the tongue and punishes the unfaithful.”

I smiled and it wasn’t kind.

“Surely you’re not suggesting the Holy Knights lack the conviction to protect their Hero’s dignity?”

The question was a trap and everyone knew it.

Refusing the Vow meant admitting they couldn’t be trusted. Accepting it meant binding their very souls to secrecy with magic that would literally rip their tongues out if they spoke. Either way, I won.

The captain’s jaw clenched. His eyes hardened with barely concealed resentment but he bowed anyway, deep and formal.

“We live to serve the Goddess and Her chosen champions.”

“Excellent.”

I started walking and the crowd scattered before me like startled birds.

My estate loomed three blocks away, its white stone walls and golden spires catching the light. Safety, privacy, my territory where no one could interfere. I just had to get there before anyone else tried to insert themselves into my business.

The Hero’s arm dangled at his side, completely limp.

I caught it with my free hand, positioning it more carefully across his chest. His skin was warm, alive, perfect. The blue silk pajamas I’d dressed him in this morning were rumpled now, twisted from the fight and the carrying. The fabric clung to his muscles in ways that made my heart race.

He looked so cute like this.

Vulnerable, dependent, mine.

No sharp remarks about personal space. No attempts to escape on “missions.” No polite deflections when I suggested we spend more time together. Just peaceful silence and the steady rhythm of his breathing against my shoulder.

This was better.

This was so much better.

I knew it was selfish, lowkey absolutely unhinged to be happy he was unconscious. But I couldn’t help it. When he was awake, he always found excuses to leave. Training, meetings, reconnaissance, patrol—always something pulling him away from where he belonged.

Here, in my arms, he couldn’t go anywhere.

A merchant stumbled into my path, too busy gawking to watch where he was going.

“Move.”

The single word carried enough venom to kill a small animal.

He scrambled backward so fast he tripped over his own feet and crashed into a vegetable cart. Cabbages rolled across the street like green tumbleweeds. I didn’t spare him a second glance.

The estate gates came into view.

My personal guards stood at attention, their white and gold armor polished to a mirror shine. They were handpicked, loyal to me before the Church, before the kingdom, before anything else. They knew what happened to people who betrayed my trust.

The senior guard, Marcus, stepped forward. His eyes swept over the unconscious Hero with professional efficiency.

“Your Holiness, shall I prepare the medical wing—”

“No. Take him to my chambers.”

Marcus didn’t even blink.

“As you command.”

The gates swung open and I carried the Hero through, leaving the chaos of the city behind. The courtyard garden stretched out around us, perfectly manicured roses and fountain sculptures depicting the Goddess in various heroic poses. It smelled like lavender and fresh-cut grass.

Home.

I climbed the marble steps two at a time, my divine strength making the ascent effortless. Servants pressed themselves against the walls as I passed, their eyes downcast. They knew better than to stare.

My chambers occupied the entire top floor of the east wing.

The doors were massive oak reinforced with holy wards that would incinerate anyone who tried to enter without permission. I kicked them open, probably harder than necessary, and strode inside.

The room was exactly as I’d left it this morning.

Silk curtains filtering golden sunlight. A massive four-poster bed with sheets that cost more than most people’s houses. Furniture that screamed old money and religious authority. Paintings of saints and angels watching from the walls with serene expressions.

And in the corner, the chair I’d sat in for three days straight when he first collapsed.

I carried the Hero to the bed and laid him down with exaggerated gentleness. His head sank into the pillows, golden hair fanning out like a halo. The blue pajamas were definitely wrinkled now but somehow that made him look even more adorable, like a sleepy god who forgot he was supposed to be intimidating.

I sat on the edge of the mattress.

My hand moved on its own, fingers tracing the line of his jaw. His skin was smooth, warm, perfect. No stubble, no blemishes, just that impossible genetic lottery winning face that made my chest ache every time I looked at him.

“You scared me today.”

The words came out quieter than I intended, almost a whisper.

I’d been in the chapel when the explosion happened. The holy magic had resonated through the wards, setting off every alarm in my body. I’d run through the city like a woman possessed, terrified I’d find him bleeding out in some alley with a demon’s claws in his chest.

Instead, I’d found him standing victorious in a crater of his own making.

And then collapsing into my arms like he’d been waiting for me all along.

“You can’t do that again.”

I brushed his hair back from his forehead, letting my fingers linger.

“You can’t push yourself so hard. What if I hadn’t been there? What if you’d fallen and hit your head? What if someone with bad intentions found you first?”

The scenarios played out in my mind like horror movies.

Rival kingdoms kidnapping him for leverage. Demon cultists using him for sacrifices. Some random noble girl with delusions of romance trying to “rescue” him and play nursemaid.

My grip tightened on the sheets.

No.

No one else got to touch him, to care for him, to see him like this. He was mine. The Goddess herself had chosen me as his partner, his protector, his—

“Saintess?”

Marcus’s voice came from the doorway, carefully neutral.

I didn’t turn around.

“What.”

“The Vow of Silence ceremony is prepared. The guards are assembled in the chapel.”

“Good. Have them wait.”

I heard him hesitate, the kind of pause that meant he wanted to say something but was weighing whether it was worth potential decapitation.

“The Cardinal sent a messenger. He requests an audience regarding the Hero’s condition.”

Of course he did.

The Church leadership couldn’t resist inserting themselves into everything. They probably wanted to parade the Hero around like a trophy, use his condition for political leverage, maybe even suggest moving him to the Grand Cathedral for “better care.”

Over my cold, dead body.

“Tell the Cardinal the Hero is under my direct protection. No audiences, no exceptions.”

“He anticipated that response. He’s threatening to invoke Chapter Seven of the Holy Doctrine.”

My blood turned to ice.

Chapter Seven allowed the Church to override a Saintess’s authority if they deemed a Hero’s life in immediate danger. It was an ancient rule, rarely used, specifically designed to prevent exactly this kind of scenario.

They were calling my bluff.

I stood slowly, turning to face Marcus. He stood at attention but I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hand rested near his sword hilt out of habit.

“The Cardinal can invoke whatever doctrine he wants.”

My voice dropped to something cold and sharp.

“But if he tries to remove the Hero from my care, I will interpret it as a direct threat to our divine champion’s safety. And I will respond accordingly.”

Marcus’s expression didn’t change but his eyes widened just slightly.

“That would mean open conflict with the Church leadership.”

“Then they should choose their next actions very carefully.”

I turned back to the Hero, to his peaceful unconscious face.

“Dismissed.”

Marcus bowed and retreated, the door clicking shut behind him.

Silence settled over the room like a heavy blanket.

I sat back down on the bed, my hand finding the Hero’s automatically. His fingers were long, elegant, strong even in sleep. I laced them with mine, feeling the warmth of his palm against my own.

“They want to take you away.”

I whispered it to the empty room.

“Everyone wants to take you away. The Church, the kingdom, the demons, everyone. They all think they have some claim to you, some right to your time and attention.”

I brought his hand up to press against my cheek.

“But they’re wrong. You’re mine. The Goddess gave you to me, put us together for a reason. And I won’t let anyone separate us.”

His chest rose and fell with steady breaths.

“Even if I have to fight the entire world.”

The afternoon light shifted, casting long shadows across the floor. Outside, I could hear the distant sounds of the city, the cathedral bells ringing the hour, the everyday noise of people living their ordinary lives.

They had no idea how close everything was to falling apart.

The Hero unconscious, the Church making power plays, demons still lurking in the shadows. It was all balancing on a knife’s edge and I was the only thing holding it together.

I leaned down, pressing my forehead against his.

“Just rest, my love. I’ll handle everything.”

A knock echoed through the room.

I didn’t move.

“I said no interruptions.”

“Forgiveness, Your Holiness.”

A servant’s voice, trembling with fear.

“But there’s a situation at the gates. A… a demon has been spotted near the estate perimeter.”

My head snapped up.

“A demon? Here?”

“The guards have engaged but—”

I was already moving, crossing the room in three strides. I yanked the door open hard enough to tear it half off its hinges. The servant stumbled backward, nearly falling.

“Where.”

“East wall, Your Holiness. It appeared from nowhere, just standing there—”

I didn’t wait for the rest.

I ran down the corridor, holy magic already flooding my system, preparing for battle. If some demon trash thought they could attack while the Hero was vulnerable, I’d show them exactly why people feared the Saintess more than they respected her.

No one threatened what was mine.

No one.