ELND Chapter 74

Chapter 74

 Cough, Poverty, and Love

The High Priest Diart slowly opened his half-lidded eyes and looked back and forth between the former Grand Duke and Duchess.

Rebecca’s expression was one of mild puzzlement, while Cedric’s face was already shadowed with obvious displeasure.

“…Blasphemous?”

Cedric’s brows shot up sharply as he repeated the word.

He had always remained composed through all of Diart’s provocations so far—never once losing his cool.

That very composure had always rubbed Diart the wrong way.

He’d long sensed that Cedric’s calm demeanor came from a subtle sense of contempt—not just toward him, but toward humankind itself.

And yet the Grand Duke of Twins is losing his temper like this…

Normally, he might have felt satisfied to see such a reaction.
But right now, the only thing he felt was unease—an ominous sense of foreboding.

After all, the Cedric he knew of old would have been furious merely at the mention of a reunion between the two of them.

And not because I called their reconciliation blasphemous…

But now?
Cedric was openly baring his hostility—something entirely unlike his usual self.

“High Priest Diart,” Cedric said in a low, dangerous tone. “My patience for your insolence ends here.”

“…”

“It would be best not to test it any further.”

His face was so cold and severe that Diart felt a chill run down his spine.

…Truly, a demon is a demon.

It must feel something like this, he thought fleetingly, when a herbivore finds itself standing before a predator.

If he looks like that after just a flicker of emotion… what happens when that anger grows beyond control?

He gulped unconsciously.
And realizing his own fear, a strange stubbornness rose up in him.

“…I am a High Priest of the Empire,” he said, forcing his voice to stay calm. “If telling the truth means a blade must be pressed to my throat, then so be it.”

He tried to sound composed, though cold sweat drenched his back.

He couldn’t just back down without delivering at least one proper warning.
He was afraid of Cedric, yes—but even more so, he feared the Pope’s wrath.

If it were ever revealed that affection had rekindled between those two…

Especially if that affection had bloomed while they were still living together after the Pope reluctantly approved their secret divorce…

If that reached the Pope’s ears, Diart would be finished.

He was the one who had persuaded the Pope—after being hounded by the Emperor—to grant that divorce in the first place.

If that so-called blasphemy turns out to be true, and the Holy Father’s pride takes a wound from it…

Just imagining it made his vision darken.

He had tried to ignore it—pretended not to hear the Grand Duke calling softly to Rebecca during the banquet.
Pretended not to notice the fond look in Cedric’s eyes whenever they met hers.

Pretended, and pretended, and pretended.

But the more he ignored it, the louder the alarm bells in his head screamed.

And when he finally saw the two of them gazing at each other with such warmth right before his eyes…

This is bad. Something’s definitely wrong.

He could no longer deny that his suspicions were reasonable.

They say that a cough, poverty, and love are things that cannot be hidden.

Even a man who had dedicated his whole life and faith to God could recognize that look—the look of two people in love.

If the source of that forbidden emotion had been Rebecca, it would have been less alarming.
After all, her excessive affection had once driven their marriage to ruin.

But now… it looks like the one who’s fallen harder is the Grand Duke himself.

And what’s more, Cedric’s expression looked strangely familiar.

Where had he seen that look before?

Ah. The famously lovesick fool, Viscount Bernard.

The realization hit, and Diart’s knees nearly buckled.

If his instinct was right, then this was truly disastrous.

Even if the Grand Duchess has changed, the Grand Duke of Twins… you, at least, I trusted.

He had always thought of Cedric as frustratingly rational, but therefore reliable.

And to think you’d betray that trust like this…

His thoughts tangled and frayed, and his leg trembled slightly as he exhaled in frustration.

No, wait… maybe it’s not that serious yet. A couple who once divorced wouldn’t just suddenly fall back in love overnight, right?

Yes, surely it couldn’t be that easy. If it were, no one in the world would ever stay divorced.

He forced himself to calm down with that reasoning.

Still… it wouldn’t hurt to issue a warning, just in case.

He stiffened his face and looked at Cedric again.

“Your Grace, if I may… just a word of caution.”

He hesitated, clamping his lips together for a moment.

His situation suddenly felt so unfair.
I should never have let myself get caught between the Holy See and His Majesty in the first place.

But regret came too late. Far too late.
All he could do now was handle this properly.

“You both know, I assume, that remarriage is only possible one year after an official divorce?”

He forced down his frustration and lifted his chin.

“Until then, the two of you must avoid any unnecessary rumors. Even if you find yourselves drawn to someone, you must wait at least one year after the divorce was made public.”

For a fleeting instant, he saw Cedric’s brow furrow.
That only made him press his point harder.

“It is the law of the Empire, and also the law of the Church. I know you both already carried out your divorce in secret, outside the bounds of imperial procedure… but—”

“…”

“The law on remarriage must be followed. The Holy Father will not tolerate a second exception.”

He grit his teeth.

Diart’s gaze sharpened as he looked between them.

“No matter who that remarriage partner may be.”

Later that evening — the outdoor corridor leading to the carriage stop

The corridor was dark and empty—no one in sight, not even an ant.

Even there, Cedric and I walked at a cautious distance from each other.

We walked in silence for a long while before Cedric glanced sideways at me, again and again.

After a few such glances, a sigh escaped his lips.

“…Rebecca, can’t we just walk together?”

Though the corridor was deserted, I instinctively looked around before glaring at him.

“No. Don’t you remember what the High Priest said?”

“But still…”

“The remarriage law says we can’t date or remarry for a year after the divorce was made public. We can’t even be caught in rumors.”

“…”

“Even if that someone happens to be our former spouse.”

I waved my hand dismissively at the air.

“So keep your distance. Farther. If we anger the Pope any further, it’ll only make things worse later.”

“…”

“You know it too, right? In this Empire, no one can marry—first or second—without the Pope’s permission.”

Cedric gave a reluctant nod, as if conceding a point he hated to admit.

We continued walking quietly for a while—until suddenly I heard a faint grinding sound beside me.

I glanced sideways. Cedric’s jaw was clenched, his expression dark and deadly.

“That stiff-necked fool Diart. I should’ve gotten rid of him long ago.”

His face was so murderous it made me instinctively take a few steps farther away.

But Cedric quickly reached out and caught my hand, pulling me back.

“No. Moving farther is cheating.”

For a brief moment, our eyes met up close. His fingers brushed mine with familiar warmth.

“Really, who’s cheating now? This is what’s against the rules,” I muttered, but my heart leapt at the touch.

Still… we have to be careful, especially within the capital.

I pulled my hand free and walked ahead, pushing away my regret.

“Cedric… when the time comes…”

He turned immediately, eyes soft.

“That thing you couldn’t give me earlier—make sure you do then.”

Understanding dawned, and a slow smile spread across his lips.

“‘When the time comes,’ huh? That would be… about a year from now.”

“Probably.”

“You’re confident you’ll still want to take it then?” he teased lightly.

“That depends,” I shot back. “On how I feel by then.”

His face darkened for a split second, gray as ash.

“Hah. Must be nice—not having a soulmark to worry about.”

“Feeling bitter? Because you’re the only one bound by one?”

“Not at all.”

“Then what about you—will you still plan to give me that ring then?”

“Well…”

He smiled again, gently.

“Of course.”

It was a smile as bright and fleeting as white petals against the black of night.

Meanwhile…

After the two had left, someone stepped out of the shadows of the corridor.

The hem of a dark crimson priest’s robe fluttered weakly in the night breeze.

“As I thought… something’s not right.”

It was High Priest Diart, glaring after the departed pair.

“Y-your Eminence, surely you don’t mean…?”

The young cleric beside him, dressed in green robes of a lower order, asked nervously.

“If what we think is true, and the Holy Father learns of it… it would be disastrous—”

“Silence,” Diart cut in coldly.

“Not a word of what you saw tonight. If you speak, neither I nor you will escape unscathed.”

“Y-yes, sir…”

The young priest nodded rapidly, but then asked hesitantly,

“Then… what will you do about those two?”

“What choice do I have?” Diart muttered grimly. “I’ll have to take on the role of their watchman myself.”

After a pause, he gave the young priest a stern order.

“Seek the Holy Father’s permission to relocate our quarters.”

His voice hardened.

“Tell him that we must depart for the Grand Duchy of Twins in the North—at once.”