~Chapter 114~
Riden’s breath stopped for a moment.
Why was Damian suddenly asking her about past lives and reincarnation?
Does he know my secret? Or is he just suspicious but not sure, so he’s testing me?
Either way—she had to deny it.
She had to give an answer that sounded natural. An answer a person born and raised in this world would say.
This was a world where gods and humans could cross between realms.
The worst answer would be something like an atheist’s.
She made a shocked face, as if she’d heard blasphemy, then looked around nervously.
“What do you mean by that, Sir Damian?”
“……”
“You don’t mean to say doubt has entered a priest’s heart, right? Or… did I do something so wrong that I deserve God’s punishment? Is that why you ask me such an irreverent question?”
Damian blinked, at a loss for words. Then his expression slowly returned.
He realized too late how dangerous his impulsive question had been.
He forced a calm face and said:
“Forgive me, my lady. I misspoke. You seemed uncomfortable with me, so I tried a poor joke. My words came out wrong.”
When Riden didn’t relax, he rushed to add more excuses.
“I meant… if you said you believe, I was going to joke that perhaps your past life was a goddess. That sort of lighthearted talk. I thought it would ease the mood.”
Only then did Riden let out her breath and soften her face.
I should just let this go.
She sighed quietly and said:
“You scared me, Sir Damian. Even evil-possessed heretics wouldn’t say things like that. Alone with you, I thought I’d run into a heretic!”
Damian, who had been tense, finally relaxed as she brushed it off as nothing more than a misunderstanding.
“I truly apologize again, my lady. I frightened you.”
“It’s fine now.”
That was natural, right? I don’t think he’s still suspicious of me.
As Damian lowered himself and worked hard to fix his mistake, Riden felt relieved too.
Still, she decided she should be much more careful from now on—and avoid talking to him whenever possible.
“Scared you? What’s that supposed to mean?”
Ethan entered the tent, pushing aside the flap.
Damian, who had been standing close to Riden, instantly stepped back.
He bowed deeply.
“You’re here, Your Excellency. While waiting, I said something to Lady McCurry that could be misunderstood.”
“Misunderstood?”
Damian waved his hands lightly, smiling.
“It’s nothing. Since you two seem to have matters to discuss, I’ll excuse myself.”
As if he’d suddenly remembered something urgent, Damian hurried out. Ethan’s sharp gaze followed him until he disappeared.
The man who was always calm had seemed strangely awkward.
“……”
Ethan turned straight to Riden, studying her carefully—like checking every corner of a fragile child left near water.
Riden gave a small laugh.
“He said something that might be misunderstood and startled me. That’s all.”
She briefly explained Damian’s strange question.
Ethan frowned.
“That does sound like a heretic’s question.”
“Right?”
“Well, Damian is freer than most priests. Less rigid, you could say.”
In his past life he didn’t care about religion at all. Of course it shows.
As Ethan spoke, Riden unconsciously made a sour face.
Ethan sat on the desk—then noticed something on the ground. He picked it up.
“A handkerchief?”
It was the one Damian had tied around her finger earlier.
Even the tiniest stain stood out brightly on the white cloth—red blood.
“Why is there blood on this?”
“Ah… that’s…”
Why do I feel guilty when I did nothing wrong?!
Riden held up her finger and explained. She had hurt herself by accident, and Damian had only given her his handkerchief.
Ethan listened silently, then fetched a small medicine box from the corner.
“Now it makes sense. He wounded the future duchess, so he ran away in panic. Give me your hand.”
He dabbed ointment on her cut, then wrapped it with white cloth until her finger looked like a round lollipop.
Riden laughed at the sight.
“That’s too much treatment.”
“Not at all. If the medicine goes wrong, I have no future. What part of that is too much?”
Ethan spoke casually, tidying the box as if nothing had happened.
Riden’s tight nerves eased. The over-wrapped bandage felt strangely reassuring.
Ethan set the medicine box down and swept the handkerchief from the desk.
“I’ll return this to him.”
Damian left Ethan’s tent and hurried to his own.
Why did I ask Lady McCurry such a stupid question?
He hadn’t planned it.
But while talking, for a moment, he saw Dain overlapping with Riden.
The words just slipped out.
“Do you believe in past lives or reincarnation?”
“I don’t know. Even if it exists, I can’t recognize it.”
“That’s true. But I’ll still believe.”
“Believe? Not believe or disbelieve, but you’ll believe?”
“If there’s more than this one life, then this life has more meaning. It makes it easier to endure.”
He remembered a piece of conversation he’d once had with Dain.
I need to accept she’s gone. So why… why do I keep…
Lady McCurry’s shocked and suspicious face had been natural.
I almost branded myself a heretic.
And he, of all people, was a priest. To have his faith questioned could bring disaster.
I have to be careful.
Yet whenever he talked to Lady McCurry, he made mistakes.
He was usually the type who blended into the background quietly, but before her, he kept crossing lines.
Maybe it’s because she’s the protagonist.
He had concluded this world’s true protagonists were Riden and Ethan.
That’s why he planned to earn their trust at this hunting festival.
Just stick to the plan. It’s not hard.
As a knight order’s scribe, he would assist the duke faithfully, and fulfill Riden’s requests to build favor.
So far, it worked. Riden even asked him to help Mari with faith studies.
But today—he had crossed the line. She’d clearly shown her displeasure.
No more mistakes.
He collapsed onto his bed, exhausted. Something poked his head.
A note?
From Lady Herne?
He read it, then frowned.
“Ugh… seriously annoying.”
He crumpled it and tossed it aside.
He could just say he never saw it.
Still, closing his eyes didn’t bring rest. Thoughts swirled endlessly.
If… just if Dain were in this world, and realized I’m inside Damian… would she reveal her identity to me, or hide it? Hide it? No… not that far…
He covered his face with his hands.
Dain was lonely. Maybe, just because this world was so unfamiliar, she’d seek him out again.
But that was just his wish.
If she knew his mother was here too, she might hide forever.
“Should we divorce?”
“……”
“If it’s too hard for you… I don’t know any other way.”
He remembered her tear-stained face.
It was a face he had loved, to the point of addiction.
When she endured him, he knew it was because she hated being alone more than anything. And somehow, that reassured him.
“But if she’s not a fool, she won’t choose me again.”
Rest. Don’t waste energy imagining what won’t happen.
The Shadow Boar hunt would start late tonight and drag on. He needed strength.
He covered his eyes with a heavy arm.
“Siraka’s holy relic.”
Ethan turned the small brass paperweight in his hand.
Riden’s eyes sparkled as she explained:
“What do you think? Do you… feel anything from it?”
“Feel something?”
She leaned closer, watching for his reaction. She hoped for some kind of response—anything.
