Goodbye, Saintess. Novel

The Unseen Kingdom That Followed Me Into Every Dream by Alyndra Meron Valeen 1 Summary Sebastian Grimwald, married to Hera Bishop, an Awakenist with strict, monk-like rules about intimacy, struggles with their distant and controlled relationship. For five years, their intimate moments were limited to one day a month, governed by Hera's rigid standards. Despite his frustration, Sebastian accepted these limitations out of love and faith in her purity and devotion.

However, his belief is shattered when, during a fire rescue, he finds Hera in a hotel room with a disheveled man and a young boy, radiating warmth and care-an image that contradicts everything he thought he knew about her. Haunted by doubt and pain, Sebastian confronts Hera at home, expecting answers. Instead, she coldly informs him that they are adopting the boy, Bobby, and dismisses his questions about her relationship with the man, Edmund Castle, claiming he is just a colleague and Bobby's father.

Hera's stoic denial and refusal to explain deepen Sebastian's hurt, especially when she reveals that their once-limited intimacy was solely to produce a child, and now that they have Bobby, she sees no reason to continue. This revelation cuts Sebastian deeply, realizing he was never truly important to her. The next morning, Sebastian watches Hera happily unpack Bobby's belongings with a brightness he's never seen from her before.

He recalls Hera's claim that Awakenists must suppress all overt emotions, including joy, and painfully concludes that her lack of warmth toward him was because he meant nothing to her. His worries grow when he hears Bobby crying after a bath and rushes to help, only to find Edmund in their home, comfortably interacting with Hera and Bobby like a family. The sight of them together, in his own house, devastates Sebastian, revealing a painful truth: Edmund has access and closeness to Hera that Sebastian never had, intensifying his feelings of betrayal and isolation.

Continue Regular Chapter Reading Below Having an Awakenist as my wife meant living under the weight of her ascetic approach to intimacy. Our physical connection was confined strictly to the sixteenth day of each month. Every nuance-my posture, the pace, even the look on my face-had to conform to her unwavering standards. Should I show too much enjoyment, she would abruptly rise and walk away without a word. We had been bound in marriage for five long years. Had I grown weary of this routine? Absolutely. Yet, despite the exhaustion gnawing at me, I always yielded.

I accepted these constraints because my love for her was stronger than my frustration. "The Saintess loves me too," I reassured myself in quiet moments. She truly resembled a Saintess-pure, revered, and distant. But beneath that sacred exterior, I convinced myself she cared for me. That belief became my own kind of faith, standing firm alongside hers. Then everything shattered the day I was dispatched to extinguish a raging fire at a hotel. Amid the choking smoke and roaring flames, I stumbled upon my wife pressed tightly against a disheveled man. Nestled between their arms was a small boy.

I had never witnessed Hera wear that expression before. She trembled slightly, yet her voice was calm as she soothed the child, leaning into the man's embrace. There was a gentle warmth radiating from her, a tenderness I had never seen directed at me. I stood frozen, the heat of the fire searing the air around me, but inside, I felt as if I had plunged into the coldest, darkest abyss imaginable. "Snap out of it, Grimwald! We've got a family to save!" barked my captain, Albert Holst. "You take the next room!" Hera looked up, her eyes wide and confused.

It was as if she could see right through my fire mask. Our gazes locked, and in that moment, my heart felt like it was tearing apart. Albert called them a family. If that was truly the case, then what did I mean to her? The flames continued to roar, and duty forced my thoughts aside. I dashed off to search the next room for anyone trapped inside. ... It took three grueling hours to finally bring the fire under control. Thankfully, no lives were lost. But by the time I emerged from the building, Hera, the man, and the child were gone without a trace.

I meant so little to her that she didn't even think I deserved an explanation. I let out a bitter chuckle. What had I been doing all these years? ... When I returned home, Hera was already there. That was unusual-she typically stayed late at the office until the early morning hours. I assumed she had been waiting for me. I expected answers. I was even prepared to forgive if her reasons made sense. Instead, she was engrossed in a video conference, not even sparing me a glance. An hour or more passed before the meeting ended. Only then did Hera finally look my way and toss a document toward me.

"An adoption?!" I exclaimed, my chest tightening painfully. "Yes," she said simply. "We're adopting the child you saw today." "Why? What's your connection to him?" I demanded, my voice rising. "And that man-what's his role in all this?" "His name is Edmund Castle. He's Bobby's father and my colleague. That's all you need to know. Nothing else concerns you," she replied coldly. I smirked, disbelief curling on my lips. Was that truly the full story? Was this the only explanation I'd ever receive? She offered no room for discussion. No, it was a decree, not a conversation.

"Make it make sense, Hera! Why meet your 'colleague' in a hotel? Why were your clothes disheveled? Tell me the truth-does that child belong to you?" I pressed, my hurt spilling out. Her frown deepened. "You're reading too much into this. Remember, I'm an Awakenist. I don't commit such sins. I have not been unfaithful." My smirk grew wider, cracking like a fault line. "You've always preached moderation and chastity. We could only be intimate once a month! But apparently, none of that mattered when you threw yourself into that man's arms, did it?" I had never doubted her faith before.

I had stood by her without question. But now, I began to wonder if she had been hiding behind it all along. Hera's frown turned into a scowl. "I know I am innocent. The world may cast doubt, but innocence remains." Her voice chilled. "If you're so convinced I've betrayed you, then we can end our physical relationship entirely. Honestly, it's uninteresting to me anyway. The only reason I consented before was to have a child-and now we have one." The sting of her words cut deep. I had no idea she despised every moment we shared. She was the Saintess-divine, pure, untouched by worldly desires.

She would never bend her rules for a mere mortal like me. I simply wasn't important enough to be her exception. Hera closed her laptop and stood. "That's all. Goodnight." I clenched my teeth against the ache in my chest and called after her, "Listen! I don't mind adopting the child, but can you please stop mingling with other men? Please? Stop insulting your husband, at least." She paused briefly, then replied calmly, "No. Bobby will want his father around. I didn't insult you, Sebastian. You insulted yourself by imagining the worst in others," and she walked away.

That night, sleep eluded me. Pain gnawed at my heart, and through the darkness, I thought I heard Hera's laughter and chatter drifting from her room-her and Edmund's voices mingling. Those phantom sounds haunted me until dawn. ... The next morning, Bobby was already here. His luggage cluttered the living room as I watched Hera help him unpack, a brightness in her smile I had never seen before. I didn't know how to feel. When she and I moved into our new home after the wedding, her face had been a mask of stoic detachment. She once told me she couldn't smile.

"An Awakenist," she said, "must never display overt emotions-not even joy." But now I understood the truth. The Saintess had never been forbidden from happiness. The real reason she never smiled at me was because I meant nothing to her. Once they finished unpacking, Hera decided to bathe Bobby. Suddenly, I heard the water stop and then the child's crying. A wave of anxiety washed over me. Hera had never been a mother or cared for a child before. And Bobby was so young-he could have hurt himself in so many ways. I couldn't help but worry.

Hera was my wife for five years, and naturally, I cared about her. And though I barely knew Bobby, he was a child we had adopted. Despite our fight last night, he was innocent. I opened the door and stepped into Hera's room, ready to offer help. I froze. The first thing I noticed was a man's overcoat hanging near the door. Through the half-open bathroom door, I caught sight of the scene inside. Bobby was sobbing, his gums bleeding from brushing too hard. Hera, wrapped in a bath towel and smelling fresh from the shower, comforted him gently.

Behind her, Edmund held a hairdryer, teasing Bobby about being a scaredy-cat. It was the perfect picture of a happy family. Except this was my home, and that woman was supposed to be my wife. My face drained of color. It felt like my heart was ripping apart once again. My knees buckled, and I staggered backward, hitting the wall. The noise caught Edmund's attention. He finally saw me and panicked. "Mr. Grimwald! This isn't what you think! I sent Bobby over last night, but the kid didn't want me to leave, so I stayed," he explained hurriedly. "I was just here for Bobby. That's all!" I reeled.

It hit me-this was no hallucination. He had spent the night here, in her room, in my house. And he had done something I was never permitted to do-not even as her husband. Conclusion The chapter closes on a poignant note of emotional turmoil and fractured trust, revealing the deep fissures in Sebastian and Hera's marriage. Sebastian's love remains steadfast despite the cold distance Hera maintains, and the painful discovery of her closeness with Edmund and Bobby shatters the fragile illusions he once held.

The tension between duty, love, and betrayal weaves a complex tapestry of longing and heartbreak, underscoring the loneliness that can exist even within the bounds of marriage. Through Sebastian's eyes, we see the stark contrast between Hera's austere public persona and the warmth she shows to Bobby and Edmund, highlighting the unspoken rift between them. The chapter delicately explores themes of faith, fidelity, and the human desire for connection, leaving us with a haunting sense of loss and unanswered questions.

Hera's cold demeanor and unwavering convictions will likely face new challenges, as the arrival of Bobby and Edmund disrupts the carefully maintained order of their lives. Will Hera's steadfast faith and principles withstand the mounting pressure, or will cracks begin to show beneath her saintly facade? Meanwhile, Sebastian's internal battle between devotion and doubt is set to intensify, forcing him to confront not only Hera's secrets but also his own place in their fractured family.