MHMMS 07

Chapter 07

“…There’s no way I would know about the Turin tribe’s curse.”

“That’s right. People are only interested in stories about Turin bathing in human blood, tearing off flesh, and offering souls to demons.”

Tilda frowned at his sarcastic tone.

“Are you saying that’s not true?”

“No.”

His answering voice was firm.

At his serious demeanor, Tilda grew puzzled.

“…Surely you’re not trying to say the Turin tribe has been persecuted without reason for a long time?”

“It’s not without reason. People have always been wary and fearful of those superior to themselves.”

“For such a simple reason?”

“Complex interests are entangled in it. It’s also a sacrifice of political maneuvering. After all, ruling becomes easier when you create an object of fear, doesn’t it?”

Tilda could hardly understand what Cales was saying.

It was a statement that overturned the Empire’s long history in a single morning.

If his words were true, it meant the temple had incited people to persecute the Turin tribe without cause.

“…The temple is not that corrupt.”

“Not now, perhaps. But it was in the past. The prejudice and fear embedded in the Turin tribe still haven’t disappeared.”

Tilda unconsciously relaxed her tense body.

If his words were true, it meant her grandfather bore no guilt.

Tilda was astonished at herself for feeling relieved inwardly.

At some point, she had been believing his skillful lies as truth.

“That’s hard to believe.”

“Well, whether you believe it or not is your freedom. But just as the goddess’s candlestick signifies equality and reciprocation, you must know that you also owe me for yesterday’s events.”

“…That was something you did of your own accord.”

“Yet you used me quite a lot for something I did of my own accord, didn’t you?”

As Cales laughed, his body vibrated faintly.

The robe covering his shoulders slipped down, revealing the area around his neck clearly.

Even from a distance, the nail marks and bite marks on his shoulders were vividly visible.

Tilda forcibly ignored the flush spreading across her face.

“I don’t have the power to help you meet the goddess.”

“No, you are the Pope’s successor.”

Tilda found it ridiculous that Cales, who knew the temple’s circumstances well, would say such a thing.

Cales surely knew what kind of treatment she received at the temple and how people looked at her. Yet he spoke so casually.

Tilda gritted her teeth before finally answering.

“It’s only in name.”

“You are the rightful successor according to the law. Surely you don’t think your grandfather will change the successor?”

“I don’t know.”

In truth, she was certain her grandfather would replace the successor with someone else, but Tilda couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud.

It was the last shred of pride left after everything had crumbled.

Cales gazed at Tilda and continued.

“Changing the successor to someone else while breaking the law would require extremely complicated procedures.”

“My grandfather won’t shy away from those complicated procedures.”

“So you’ll just sit back and watch?”

His tone was sly, as if provoking her.

Tilda hated Cales for speaking so easily. She couldn’t bring herself to admit that the man who had soothed her and caressed her with affectionate hands last night was the same person as the one before her now.

His purpose now was clear, and that purpose put her in a difficult position.

“Just as I cannot easily understand your tribe, there are things in my family that you cannot understand.”

“Still, you don’t have a choice. You’ll have to cooperate in helping me meet the goddess.”

He was being utterly unreasonable.

Even if she became Pope, it would be impossible to arrange a meeting with the goddess.

As a High Priest, he should know that the goddess had not responded to anything for years.

“Why are you so desperate to meet the goddess?”

“I told you a moment ago. Because of the curse.”

So, what curse?

Tilda squinted at him. Cales continued in a detached tone.

“Our race is all short-lived.”

“…Short-lived?”

“Our lifespan is only half that of ordinary people. This is a very old curse on our race. So I must meet the goddess and find out why she placed this damned curse on us, and break it.”

Tilda’s mind grew complicated.

The fact that the Turin tribe had short lifespans was an undiscovered truth until now. Looking at Cales’s serious eyes, she didn’t think he was lying to win her over.

It was contradictory that she considered him a cunning demon yet didn’t doubt his sincerity.

After staring blankly at him for a moment, Tilda came to her senses and turned her head away.

“…Unfortunately, that has nothing to do with me.”

What had happened to her yesterday was already more than she could handle.

Acleare.

Had she ever felt such primal rage toward another person in her entire life? Her mind went dizzy, and she felt as if all the blood in her body was drying up.

And she had thought those emotions would end with death, but this man had dragged her back into a world of chaos.

Having been pulled into this world without any choice, she still couldn’t even grasp what she should do.

“Don’t you want revenge on the people who did that to you?”

Cales asked abruptly.

“…”

“Acleare Belmont, who tormented you, and that despicable Windsor Nokquila, who intends to remarry her.”

Tilda stared at Cales with startled eyes.

How on earth did he know about her affairs?

“Surely you don’t think it was a coincidence that I fished you out of that dark sea?”

Come to think of it, that was true.

There was no way someone could have coincidentally spotted a person flailing in the deep sea, amidst endlessly crashing waves.

“Take revenge.”

Cales rose from his seat and approached Tilda.

“I’ll help you.”

He leaned down, bracing his hand on the bed, and brought his face close.

“In return, you help me.”

As the robe draped over his shoulders loosely slipped down, the peculiar scent that had filled this room yesterday wafted up.

The body odor that had melted her, the languid gaze—they tempted Tilda.

The anger that had taken root in her heart whispered to follow his words.

But then she blocked her ears from the temptation within.

“This isn’t something you can speak of so lightly.”

Even now, recalling Acleare, who had confessed the truth with a smile, and Windsor, who must have secretly mocked her, made her tremble with hatred.

But if she asked herself whether she wanted revenge, she couldn’t give a definite answer.

Even if she took revenge, her dead mother and father would not return.

It would only bring cheap satisfaction from punishing the guilty and a petty sense of triumph from looking down on the defeated.

That was why the goddess Valinea in the scriptures said one must never take revenge. Because the cheap satisfaction of quenching vengeful desires ultimately breeds even greater emptiness.

“Surely you’re not thinking about doctrines at a time like this?”

As if reading her thoughts, Cales brushed her limp hair behind her ear and spoke.

Tilda’s gaze toward him was cold.

She did not respond to Cales’s tender whisper as she had last night.

Because she now knew that his affectionate touch and sincere comfort were merely a means to open her body.

In the end, he had fulfilled both his desires and his purpose last night.

Tilda slapped Cales’s hand away.

“Don’t touch my body.”

Cales laughed lightly.

“Even if I wanted to, the treatment isn’t completely finished yet.”

“…What?”

People used to whisper that Tilda was like a porcelain doll for her expressionless face, but Tilda herself didn’t realize that she kept losing her composure in front of Cales.

“That woman gave you a very potent poison. It can’t be purified in one go.”

Tilda was convinced it was one of Cales’s tricks.

Another scheme to satisfy his lustful and base desires…

Ironically, the moment she thought that, her vision went dark, as if darkness had suddenly descended.

Tilda swallowed dryly.

Not wanting to show that she couldn’t see, Tilda quickly lowered her gaze.

“Oh dear.”

But Cales noticed first. He grabbed Tilda’s chin and forced her head up.

“Your eyes can’t see again, can they.”

Her unfocused eyes were revealed helplessly in his view.

Tilda glared at where Cales must be in front of her.

“You deliberately didn’t purify it all at once, didn’t you?”

“I have no idea how much of a scoundrel you’re determined to make me out to be.”

“You deceived me from the very beginning.”

She heard Cales click his tongue.

“I swear by the goddess’s candlestick—I did my utmost to save and heal you.”

The candlestick is the most sacred relic in the Marguerite Empire.

In the beginning, the goddess bestowed fire upon humans, and they founded civilization with that sacred flame. It was a great gift, and an act of generosity.

Thus, the goddess’s candlestick that holds that flame is commonly mentioned when priests swear oaths.

Especially for priests and clergy, divine power resides within them, so if they swear an oath and commit falsehood, they suffer consequences such as illness or accidents.

No matter that he was a Turin, he was still a High Priest, so his oath couldn’t be false.

“Then…”

“So now you understand—unless I heal you completely, you will lose your sight again someday.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Of course not.”

His answering voice was sly.

What a cunning demon…

Cales slowly traced Tilda’s lips.

“If it hurts, you can use me like you did yesterday.”

“That will never happen.”

“You’ll see.”

With those words, Cales covered Tilda’s lips.

His tongue, slowly licking her lips, elegantly delved into Tilda’s dry flesh.

At the unexpected kiss, Tilda unconsciously gripped the hem of Cales’s robe.

The kiss was not like yesterday’s.

With the veil of pain lifted, his breath, scent, and heat all felt more vivid.

Even his arousal, distinctly felt below…

Startled by his clear desire, the moment Tilda tried to make a sound, the unfamiliar power surged through her throat and spread throughout her body, just like yesterday.

“Huff!”

Overwhelmed by the sudden pain, Tilda had no choice.

In the end, she clung to him as if hanging on.