MHMMS 08

Chapter 08

A smile lingered at the corner of Cales’s mouth as he sat in the chair before his office desk—the afterglow of the morning’s foreplay.

‘Though in the end, she didn’t open her body to me.’

It would have been nice if she had given herself to him while crying and drowning her pain in pleasure like last night, but today she bit her lip until it bled and endured the pain.

He knew she was that kind of person, but having once tasted her flesh, the regret was immense.

But there would be another chance. In the end, she wouldn’t be able to refuse his offer.

The image of Tilda crying and clinging to him last night—her twisted face, her fevered breath, even her scent like dried grass—was vividly lodged in his mind, lingering around him even now.

Cales unconsciously ran his tongue slowly over his lips.

He hadn’t eaten anything for the past two days due to attending to matters here and there, but the sense of fulfillment he’d gained from her made him feel not hungry.

Of course, apart from that, his unsatisfied desires still yearned for her at any moment.

Thinking of the hot flesh that had clenched tightly around him, Cales felt blood pooling dully below.

This, too, was troublesome in its own way.

Once he had tasted that sweetness, his latent desires were running rampant like a colt that had broken its reins.

‘If I’ve touched the forbidden fruit, it’s my responsibility to bear the consequences.’

Cales thought suddenly.

When had he first seen Tilda Valinea?

He soon recalled that it was the first day of theology class.

She was someone who drew everyone’s attention.

At fifteen, she was as white and beautiful as an angel descended to earth. Her expressionless face made her seem even more unreal.

‘The priests are going to have a hard time.’

That was all Cales had thought when he first saw Tilda.

Most of the men in the seminary were adolescent boys. They would have to maintain chastity even while looking at a pretty classmate, so they would only pine from afar.

But contrary to expectations, she carried more negative rumors than male gazes.

‘Isn’t that child the Pope’s granddaughter?’

‘That’s right. She’s also his successor. Originally, it was Tilda Valinea’s birth mother, Celestia, who was the successor, but she passed away.’

‘Ah… because of that incident?’

It was only much later that Cales learned what that incident was. The event that led to her birth mother’s death.

He couldn’t understand it.

‘Well, she didn’t deliberately cause her death.’

It was clearly an accident. How could a ten-year-old child have known that fruit would cause divine power to go out of control?

Cales couldn’t understand the harsh stares directed at Tilda.

‘They say she’s not on good terms with His Holiness the Pope either. I hear there are rumors that His Holiness will change the successor even if it means going to great lengths.’

‘Perhaps that’s only natural. I heard she can’t even use divine power now.’

‘In the end, she’s just a useless vessel.’

Though she bore countless such labels, she seemed not to care at all, as if it were none of her business.

She always attended theology classes quietly with the same expression and upright posture, and took the same exams as the other priests.

Watching her stay late to study theology, he sometimes speculated whether she had ambitions for the position of successor.

But that wasn’t the case.

She truly only devoted herself to theological studies. If she had been ambitious for the position, she would have loitered around the Vatican, not the temple.

Cales watched her every day. And he realized.

That he had unconsciously been looking at her.

At the time, he thought it was merely curiosity. With nothing but tedious things in the seminary and temple, he had simply found something somewhat interesting among the boring and dull.

Observing the expressionless girl amidst the swirling attention of others was, he thought, just amusing.

But gradually, he grew curious.

What would it feel like if that girl, who seemed like she wouldn’t bleed a single drop even if pricked, were to frown?

Even at that fleeting curiosity, Cales felt a strange heat pooling in his lower abdomen.

That night, the white girl appeared in his dreams. Only her outward appearance was the same.

Her eyes, which had always been cold no matter what she looked at, sparkled seductively, and her tightly pressed red lips traced an alluring curve.

That night, he experienced his first wet dream. With his pants damp, Cales felt an unprecedented sense of embarrassment.

After that, Cales could no longer simply observe Tilda Valinea. His gaze became somewhat more exploratory.

Why did he feel desire for that stiff child?

He had never even made eye contact with her. Had never exchanged a single conversation.

Cales needed to understand why he was paying more attention to that child than necessary.

But no matter how he loitered around her or tried to speak to her, all that came back was indifference and short answers.

He began to feel a competitive streak.

‘Your interpretation of the sacred relics you presented today was wrong.’

At his provocative words, her footsteps came to an abrupt halt.

It was the first time her eyes had held such a distinct emotion.

‘Then what do you think is the right answer?’

That day, Cales had to engage in a long debate about sacred relics he had no interest in.

His knowledge was insufficient to match Tilda, and the conclusion was that her interpretation was correct.

Of course, it didn’t matter. He had achieved his purpose.

‘This is it.’

Cales had learned how to converse with Tilda Valinea.

But as time passed, she too learned how to deal with him, and she only gave short answers to anything he said.

Cales considered even that kind of relationship acceptable.

Except for one thing.

Even after coming of age, graduating from the seminary, and becoming a High Priest, his interest in her only grew deeper.

Looking at her made him thirsty.

It was a desire that could not be quenched by anything. That thirst, he supposed, could only be filled by the fluids of her mouth and her most secret places.

The desire he could never fulfill awakened lewd fantasies. What would it taste like to bite that white nape? What about that tongue that always spoke only proper words?

Ah, it was sheer torture.

Whenever he had such fantasies, heat would gather below, as if his pants were about to burst.

What he was most curious about was how those calm, lake-like eyes would look when clouded.

Those unwavering eyes and gaze that never yielded to any situation—those eyes that sought truth and the principles of the world were her very essence and core.

The fools who dismissed her as someone who would freeze you just by looking at her simply didn’t recognize her true value.

Cales unconsciously ran his tongue over his lips.

What would it taste like to roll those blue eyes in his mouth?

But one day, a rumor came that shattered Cales’s fantasies.

‘I heard Tilda Valinea is marrying Windsor Nokquila.’

‘Count Nokquila isn’t a bad match. He may not be from an established family, but he’s the richest man in the Empire right now, and handsome too.’

It felt as if ice water had been poured over him.

The flame that had been burning fiercely inside him at all hours was extinguished without leaving even a single ember.

Completely.

At the same time, Cales became aware of his own position. As a High Priest carrying a mission on behalf of his race, he had to achieve his goal.

And so he forcibly averted his gaze.

A daily life with nothing interesting was dull, but it allowed him to move forward.

Then one day, news came that Tilda Valinea might be getting divorced.

Cales raised an eyebrow.

‘That woman…’

Acleare Belmont. She was certainly no ordinary woman.

In the end, Cales instructed his intelligence network to monitor Acleare Belmont.

Thanks to that, he was able to rescue Tilda Valinea in time.

‘Though it came at a cost.’

Cales already felt a headache coming on from the nagging that was about to descend upon him.

*Knock, knock—!*

‘He’d never make a noble.’

At the knock laced with irritation, Cales rested his chin on his hand and answered.

“Come in.”

His adjutant, Lizard, strode in and stopped before the desk.

“You actually brought Tilda Valinea here!”

“If I hadn’t, she’d be dead.”

Lizard buried his face in his hands in despair.

“Now we’re the ones who are going to die. Do you think the Pope’s granddaughter is going to sit back and watch a Turin serve as a High Priest?”

Cales answered indifferently.

“I explained things well enough.”

Lizard lifted his face and exclaimed.

“You explained well enough! We’re lucky she didn’t immediately draw a sword on you after seeing a High Priest with black hair.”

Cales didn’t bother to mention that Tilda had done something similar with a candlestick.

“And, saving a dying person wouldn’t have been possible with ordinary power.”

“I pushed myself a little.”

“How much?”

“About… five years?”

Lizard looked as if he was about to faint.

If Cales’s build had been even slightly smaller… if his supernatural ability hadn’t been unprecedentedly the strongest… Lizard would have grabbed this irresponsible tribal father by the collar and shaken him.

“There’s no need to get so excited. In the end, if she helps us, it’s as good as having a direct carriage to the goddess Valinea.”

“She’s going to help us?”

“It will probably turn out that way.”

That meant no.

Lizard realized he couldn’t just stay here.

“I’ll go talk to her right away.”

The moment he turned to leave, Cales spoke in a low voice.

“Stop right there.”

At the icy tone that seemed to freeze his body, Lizard involuntarily halted.

Sure enough, Cales’s red eyes were piercing.

“Don’t go near her without my permission.”