CH: 04
Is He Here Today?
Amelia stepped into the garden leading to the north gate. Though she tried to act nonchalant, the way her eyes darted around made her look just like a child peeking around a marketplace stall.
“…He’s not here.”
After searching the garden for quite some time, Amelia murmured weakly. Her disappointment was clear—like a shopper unable to buy something because it was sold out.
“Are you looking for something, my lady?”
Even the guards stationed at the north gate asked her. Amelia quickly shook her head.
“No, I was just on my way to the prayer room.”
She added an excuse so as not to seem suspicious. The guards accepted her explanation naturally. Thanks to that, Amelia had no choice but to reluctantly head toward the prayer room.
“…Liar.”
“You said you’d definitely meet me again.” As the door of the prayer room closed behind her, Amelia whispered as though sighing—blaming Ivan.
“Who’s a liar?”
A sudden voice came from the side, and Amelia was so startled she fell to the floor.
“…!”
That was when she realized that sometimes, you’re so shocked you can’t even scream. Her heart seemed to drop as she slowly lifted her head.
“Who…”
Following the stained glass that filtered dim light down from the prayer room ceiling, multi-colored light landed beside the man’s face. With his lips sealed, he looked almost sacred. Like a priceless painting no amount of money could buy.
“Ivan.”
At Amelia’s whisper, Ivan tilted his head slightly without answering. As the scattered rays of light fell on his otherwise expressionless face, a faint smile slowly began to spread—like watercolor bleeding across paper.
Amelia stared at him, spellbound. He was so beautiful, like a dream, that it was hard to look away.
“Come on, get up.”
Ivan reached out his hand toward the sitting Amelia. She cautiously raised her hand. Her small hand trembled slightly in his palm, filled with unspoken emotion.
“I didn’t think I’d scare you that much.”
“What were you doing in here alone?”
Ivan let out a soft chuckle. Even his laughter sounded charming.
“What else would a trainee priest be doing in a prayer room?”
At that, Amelia let out an “Ah,” realizing how silly her question had been.
“I… I just didn’t expect you to be in here. I kept looking outside…”
She stumbled over her words as she got up, still holding his hand.
“Because you promised.”
Ivan murmured softly at that moment. Amelia didn’t realize how naturally he dropped formal speech. Nor did she notice they were still holding hands—only blinking at him.
“Right… you did.”
Her reply came half a beat late.
“I kept waiting. I wanted to hear more about the world outside.”
Amelia’s grip tightened. Still holding his hand, she tugged him toward the platform with the statue.
“Sit with me. Tell me more.”
She pulled Ivan down beside her without hesitation, seemingly not caring that the spot might be dirty from many feet walking over it. It was an unexpected side of her, at least to Ivan.
“You went out again?”
As Ivan sat next to her, Amelia turned to him with sparkling eyes. Their eyes met.
Eyes.
“…”
Those eyes.
Other than the unusual color, they were just like any other human’s—but still somehow different. Ivan tilted his head slightly as he kept gazing into them.
“Hmm?”
When Ivan didn’t answer, Amelia pressed him again. He finally nodded.
“Where did you go? Another tavern? Did you drink again?”
“I did.”
Amelia clapped her hands in amazement like a child.
“What does it taste like?”
She was curious like a young foal, as if she’d never stepped beyond the temple walls.
“It depends on the type.”
“…”
“Some are bitter—both in smell and taste. Others are sweet, made from fruit.”
Alcohol was strictly forbidden in the temple. Even if the temple only maintained appearances and lacked true faith, this rule was absolute. Once the clergy showed signs of indulgence, the people of Escliff would begin to question everything.
“Does it make you feel good when you drink it?”
Ivan paused to consider her question.
“In moderation, yes.”
“And if you drink too much?”
“You lose control of your body—or your emotions. It might still feel good, though.”
His tone held a trace of disdain, and Amelia immediately understood that Ivan didn’t like the idea of drunkenness.
“I’ve never tried it. I was always curious… whether it really makes you feel better.”
Amelia shifted the topic, licking her lips.
“What do people talk about when they gather?”
She leaned a little closer to him.
“Just everyday stuff. Whether it’s a good harvest or a bad one. That someone next door had a baby. Sometimes even stories about dogs giving birth.”
Ivan answered casually.
“Sometimes there are fights. Over card games, when someone loses money.”
“Wow… Isn’t that bad?”
“Looking for fun isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”
Ivan replied indifferently. Amelia, already convinced he was a wayward priest, didn’t try to scold him.
“Sometimes they bet over a woman too.”
“Bet?”
“Who can seduce her first.”
Amelia blinked in surprise.
“To become lovers?”
“Usually it’s not that noble.”
Ivan gave a short laugh, as if talking to a naive girl who didn’t know the ways of the world.
“Just for a night of fun.”
“That’s… that’s terrible.”
Amelia frowned.
“They don’t even consider how the other person might feel. How hurt they might be…”
“Don’t worry about it. It has nothing to do with you.”
Ivan cut her off, dismissing it as something she didn’t need to concern herself with. After all, most tavern talk wasn’t worth listening to. But his words still sounded cold—like they came from somewhere deeper inside him.
“Sometimes they talk about you too.”
Ivan added, changing the subject. Amelia stiffened. Her wandering gaze slowly turned back to him.
“What do they say about me?”
“Whether you’re really immortal. Whether you really don’t age. Whether you’re truly the god’s representative.”
Ivan’s answers were casual.
“Is it true?”
He looked directly into her eyes. It wasn’t even a serious question, but Amelia’s heart skipped a beat.
“Mm…”
She gave an awkward smile. It was easy to admit the truth to Aaron, but not to Ivan. Amelia knew her worth was tied to her role. That’s why, even though she wished people would stop calling her the priestess, she never outright denied it.
She didn’t want to die just because she’d outlived her usefulness.
Maybe that’s why Ivan’s innocent question felt like an accusation—it pricked her conscience. She lowered her gaze halfway to hide her trembling eyes.
“That was a weird question.”
“…”
“It should’ve been obvious.”
Ivan added, as if to clarify he hadn’t really meant to doubt her. Her heart pounded again. Amelia felt an unexpected guilt toward him.
“You said you were curious about the taste of alcohol, right? Should I bring some next time?”
Ivan offered as he watched her. Amelia’s eyes went wide in surprise, the guilt forgotten.
“You can bring it into the temple?”
“If you hide it well, you can bring anything.”
He replied shamelessly. After all, he himself had been smuggled into the temple. Alcohol was nothing compared to that.
“No. What if you get punished for it?”
Amelia shook her head. Sneaking alcohol in was a much bigger risk than just talking in secret like this. She knew very well how harshly rule-breakers were punished.
“Instead of that…”
She hesitated. She still didn’t trust Ivan enough to spill all her secrets. This was only their second meeting.
“Next time…”
But she liked him. Ivan was the only one in this prison wearing the mask of a temple who treated her like a person. He could tell her about the outside world—things everyone else kept from her.
“Come meet me again.”
Amelia whispered, clutching the sleeve of his robe. It was more of a plea than a request. Ivan looked down at her fragile fingers holding onto his sleeve. They trembled slightly, as if she feared he might say no.
“…As many times as you want.”
Clouds passed over the stained-glass ceiling. The light dimmed. Ivan’s crooked smile was hidden in that growing shadow.
