CHAPTER 93………………………………
“Mmph! Mmff!”
Roziana panicked and pushed him away several times. Their lips rubbed softly together, parting slightly as a hot tongue slipped inside.
‘No!’
Roziana’s eyes flew open as she struggled. She tried desperately to break free before she could absorb his power. Tilting her head, she managed to push back the tongue that pressed deeper into her mouth. Her breath caught in her throat, and the sensation of their lips rubbing sent heat through her entire body.
With trembling hands, she lightly tapped his shoulder. Through their parted lips, she let out a ragged breath, and a thin silver thread connected them.
The man’s face looked pained.
“Haah… As. You know why I’m pushing you away. Even though I like you…”
Smack. Touch.
Asterios didn’t give up; he pressed his lips against hers again.
“I know.”
He smiled faintly, but there was still sadness in his eyes.
“But, I doubt you truly understand how I feel right now.”
“…What?”
“If you only gave me permission, I would take you in my arms right now and run away from this place.”
Ah.
At those words, Roziana froze completely.
Only then did she begin to understand why there was sorrow in his heated gaze.
He had to watch her sit and share tea with other men. He knew it was part of her duty, yet his heart couldn’t help but narrow in jealous misery.
“I know that your time, your gaze, your breath — none of them can belong to me yet. I know I need your permission. I also understand that all of this is part of the trials.”
Asterios pressed his brows together, his face filled with pain — as though he were enduring something with all his might.
“But knowing that doesn’t make it any easier to see you with someone else.”
As if asking her to at least allow him this much, he took her hand again and kissed her lips. Soft lips met once more, and a faint wet sound lingered between them.
Roziana didn’t dislike his childish complaint. In fact, she found she liked this honest, straightforward Asterios far more than the man he’d been back when they were lovers in Tenebres.
With a small laugh, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him close.
“Heh. When did you become such a spoiled child, As? You weren’t like this before.”
“…Do you dislike it, then?”
Asterios’ expression turned uneasy, his eyes lowering. He had regretted not expressing his feelings properly in the past. The time when she had hated him felt like such a waste — it had hurt so much. Determined never to repeat that mistake, his entire demeanor toward her had changed.
Roziana looked straight at his face — the one asking if she disliked him.
Did his pout really have to look that handsome, too?
She truly hadn’t expected this man to change so much.
“No.”
Pfft. A laugh burst from her lips. With her forehead against his, Roziana smiled brightly.
“I like it. I like you this way.”
At that, Asterios’ eyes widened, and then he smiled joyfully before kissing her again. Their mingled breaths felt warm, and her heart raced wildly at the laughter caught between their lips.
It wasn’t a deep or hungry kiss — but it was far more precious and desperate than any before.
Ezef lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. His entire body felt bound by invisible chains, unable to move, while his heart pounded in his chest. He was in shock — and partly, he couldn’t even think straight. Even without prayer, the voice echoed endlessly in his mind.
The voice now spoke clearly — even giving a name.
[…Bring Uriel to me. She is coming to me.]
Ezef’s mind was in chaos.
‘Uriel? Who is that?’
At least, the voice wasn’t calling for Asterios. That much was a relief — the only thing keeping Ezef from suffocating completely.
It was a blessing that the one the Holy Father wanted wasn’t Asterios.
But then…
‘Who is “she”? Don’t tell me… not Her Highness the Princess.’
If the voice truly belonged to His Holiness, the Holy Father, then Roziana must never come face to face with him.
Yet during the trials, that was inevitable. The thought made Ezef’s chest tighten again. His body felt paralyzed, panic crawling through him like poison.
‘According to the schedule, Her Highness is supposed to meet His Holiness tomorrow. What should I do?’
If “she” from the voice referred to the Princess, his heart throbbed painfully in dread.
“Should I… ask to change the order of meetings? If that’s even possible…”
But the problem was — he had no valid reason to make such a request. Outwardly, the Holy Father, Gregorian, showed no strange behavior. Everything appeared perfectly normal.
And the voice — only Ezef could hear it. No one else.
Worse still, he no longer trusted his own mind. Was the voice truly Gregorian’s? Could he be certain?
He didn’t know where to bring this “Uriel,” or even who the voice truly sought. How could he tell if it was real or if he was simply going mad?
‘Am I losing my mind? Is this punishment for abandoning my priesthood and overreaching with selfish desires?’
Ezef steadied his breathing, forcing himself to move. He had to do something. The Gregorian he knew had once been kind and gentle — perhaps he would listen to him, even now. Even if the man before him was not the same, he would find some excuse, any excuse, to switch places with Roziana.
‘Yes. If I can delay Her Highness’s meeting with His Holiness, even for a little while — if I can warn her to be cautious…’
With great effort, Ezef sat up. His head still rang, but he drew on his holy power to heal his body enough to function. A bright light enveloped him.
“Ugh!”
He gritted his teeth through the stabbing pain in his skull, breathing raggedly. With trembling hands, he began to write a short note — his message concise.
Then, as he opened his door to deliver it to the Holy Father, he ran straight into Thomas, who stood guard outside.
“Are you all right, sir? Her Highness sent me to attend to you.”
“Ah…”
Hearing that Roziana had sent someone to check on him, Ezef swallowed the wave of emotion that rose in his throat. He couldn’t let a single careless word escape — anything he said might be overheard.
“You still look pale, sir. Should I fetch a physician?”
Thomas watched him with concern; Ezef was sweating and deathly pale.
“I… have somewhere I must go.”
“In your condition?”
He could barely stand, his limbs trembling.
“I think you should rest more, sir. Go when you’re feeling better.”
Thomas tried to stop him, but Ezef glanced around and swallowed dryly. Only the guards stood nearby, each stationed at their doors.
“Please — I have a favor to ask. Could you deliver this letter… to His Holiness of Greiam?”
Ezef’s hand trembled as he passed the note to Thomas.
“Please.”
“Ah — of course. I’ll see that it’s delivered. But please, sir, get some rest. I’ll call the physician.”
“There’s no need. Rest will suffice.”
Thomas nodded and left. Ezef watched him go for a long moment before returning to his room.
Time passed. After a short nap, Thomas knocked and returned.
“I have your reply.”
“Already?”
Ezef stood up quickly and opened the door. After thanking Thomas, he took the letter inside and opened it with shaking hands.
“Dear Ezef,”
His mouth went dry as he read, brown eyes darting over the lines.
“I received your letter well. I understand that you must have had an important reason for your difficult request. So, I’ve decided to change the order.”
“Ah! Thank goodness.”
Relief washed over Ezef’s face — but then he read on.
“However, before agreeing, I consulted with the royal chamberlain. Unfortunately, he informed me that it is forbidden to alter the order of the trials. I wanted to grant your request, but alas, I cannot.”
“Ah…”
Ezef’s expression collapsed into despair. He couldn’t help after all. Only two lines remained. His eyes, dim with hopelessness, read the final part.
“Though you have stepped down from the priesthood, prayer is still our lifeblood. Have you been praying well lately?”
His brown eyes lost their light and began to tremble violently.
And then — the last line.
“P.S. — One must never ignore the voice of God.”
“!!”
At that moment, all color drained from Ezef’s face. His entire being went cold, as if life itself had fled.
