CH:05
“Shall we set a date for our next meeting?”
It was Ivan who made the suggestion first. Under the reappearing light, Amelia gazed at the radiant man as if bewitched. Despite being a priest, he looked like a charming young noble, as if trying to enchant someone.
“Every Friday night, around eleven, here.”
To Ivan’s suggestion, Amelia nodded.
“Alright. Let’s part for today then.”
For some unknown reason, the surveillance by Louie and the maids had recently loosened. It was rare now for them to cling to her every moment. So spending about thirty minutes in the prayer room under the excuse of praying wouldn’t be a big deal.
“If I’m gone too long, they’ll come looking for me.”
Even as she said that, for some lingering reason, Amelia couldn’t bring herself to stand up easily. Naturally, she hadn’t let go of Ivan’s sleeve either.
“You said you had to go.”
At Ivan’s words, Amelia gave an awkward smile. It was clear she wouldn’t get up on her own. Ivan reached out with his free hand and gently pried her hand away. His hand, which had wrapped around her slender wrist, soon slid beneath her palm.
“We’ll meet again.”
Ivan whispered soothingly. Amelia’s gaze dropped to their joined hands.
“…Okay.”
Though a trace of hesitation still lingered deep in her dark eyes, her reply was gentle.
“You go first.”
At Ivan’s words, Amelia nodded and stood up. Ivan’s hand slowly drew away. The tips of his long, strong fingers brushed her palm before parting.
“Hey.”
Amelia had just reached the door of the prayer room when she turned around. Ivan, still seated on the platform, looked at her with a languid gaze.
“What is it?”
Ivan asked. It was hard to tell if he was using formal or casual speech—his tone was simply relaxed, like speaking to an old friend. Swearing by the heavens, Ivan was a type of person Amelia had never met before.
Maybe that was why. Strangely, Amelia found comfort in him. She didn’t know the reason, but she was drawn to him. The fact that he lacked faith enough to stray from the path of God somehow appealed to her.
“Can you… call me by my name?”
And she had a curious feeling—if it was Ivan, he’d accept that fondness.
“My name is…”
“I know your name.”
Ivan interrupted. Just when disappointment started to rise within her, thinking he wouldn’t say it—
“Amelia.”
Ivan called her name. A name that existed, yet had never truly been spoken aloud.
“……”
At that moment, when her name passed Ivan’s lips, Amelia felt a shiver run through her. As if she’d been born anew. Like a soul that had wandered for eternity finally setting foot on solid ground.
“See you again.”
Ivan smiled and waved. Moonlight spilled in pieces over him. Amelia couldn’t say a word as she grasped the prayer room’s doorknob.
“…Yeah.”
She barely managed a choked response and opened the door, leaving Ivan behind. Once the door closed behind her, the world turned quiet.
No—truthfully, the temple at night was always this silent. She had just failed to notice, distracted by Ivan.
“……”
She passed through the garden and hallway and arrived at her bedroom. Her mute maid, stirred by the sound, rubbed her eyes and woke up.
“Go back to sleep. I’m going to sleep too.”
Amelia whispered, climbing into bed. The maid lay back down and closed her eyes.
“I know your name.”
Lying on her bed without even covering herself, Amelia replayed the gentle voice in her head. The curtain fluttered in the breeze from the open window, and crickets sang the night’s melody.
“Amelia.”
Amelia. Amelia Escliff. My name is…
Repeating her name over and over, Amelia closed her eyes and curled up like a baby. A blush bloomed across her soft cheeks.
“Your Majesty.”
Ivan stopped in his tracks in the hallway leading to the audience chamber. From the end of the corridor, Rodan appeared. A shadow perfectly cast across half of his face gave him a rather eerie look.
“Standing there like that, you look like a ghost.”
But Ivan responded cheerfully, showing no sign of surprise.
“Did you really visit the temple again last night?”
“You were the one who told me to make use of the identity token once I had it.”
Ivan replied indifferently and resumed walking.
“I only asked whether, if you were going to keep climbing over walls, you even needed that token in the first place.”
Rodan sighed lightly as he spoke.
“That’s why I didn’t climb over last night. I passed through the gate pretending to be that trainee priest. I didn’t kill the priestess, though.”
“What if you get caught?”
“Then I just won’t get caught.”
Ivan’s reply was nonchalant. Even though he knew it wasn’t something entirely under his control. Rodan was the only one suffering the headache of dealing with such an impulsive ruler.
“Climbing the wall or using the token, it’s still a covert infiltration either way. If you’re discovered, the temple won’t take it lightly.”
Rodan tried to reason with him.
“I’ve already arranged to meet her regularly.”
“You plan to keep visiting the temple? If something happens, that identity token won’t fully protect you—…you’re not listening, are you.”
Ivan clearly wasn’t paying attention. He always had been that way—indifferent to everything outside of his interests.
“Still, it gives me enough time to lie and escape, saying I’m a lost priest. You want to dismantle the divine myth too, don’t you?”
“I just don’t want you betting your life on it.”
Rodan denied it firmly, clearly unwilling to gamble Ivan’s life. That was his honest feeling. The imperial authority had long been weakened by constant conflict with the temple. To those who supported the imperial family, Ivan was their last remaining card. If he fell, the House of Escliff could no longer bask in its former glory.
“Next time you meet her—kill her.”
Rodan said. Ivan gave a hum and avoided his gaze.
“Your Majesty.”
“Yeah, eventually.”
Ivan responded once Rodan pressed again. He wasn’t being reluctant—it just wasn’t going to be now. But he was thinking of killing Amelia someday.
“The more often you visit, the more dangerous it becomes.”
At that, Ivan stopped walking. It was a reasonable concern. He didn’t fail to understand it. But he hadn’t killed her yet.
“Still, isn’t it a waste to eliminate someone who might prove useful?”
He didn’t dwell on the past—it wasn’t in his nature. He only thought ahead. If he hadn’t killed her, he’d find a reason to keep her alive.
“Rodan.”
“Yes?”
“She’s starved for affection and attention. And she knows everything that goes on in that place.”
Ivan turned back to glance at Rodan, who stood one step behind, with a sly smile.
“She already believes I’m her friend.”
“……”
“She always comes alone, too. That means I can kill her anytime I want. Isn’t this an opportunity we can’t afford to miss?”
For Ivan, every moment of contact with Amelia—whether to kill or use her—was a chance.
“Why even ask my opinion when you never listen?”
Rodan shook his head, giving up on trying to persuade his reckless lord. He had no power to rein Ivan in. Ironically, it was Ivan’s recklessness that had finally created an opportunity to reach the priestess.
“I just don’t think we’ll get another chance like this.”
None of the agents the imperial family had sent to the temple had ever reached Amelia. Non-priest men hardly left the temple and couldn’t approach the secluded priestess. Women fared no better—restricted to menial labor in the kitchens or stables. Except for her maid Louie, the only other servant close to Amelia was mute and illiterate—unable to repeat or record anything she heard.
“Do as you wish.”
Rodan sighed and gave his answer. It was an insolent attitude, but Ivan let it slide. In fact, he looked rather pleased.
“Stand aside. I’ll open it.”
They had arrived at the audience chamber. Ivan stopped the guards from moving and opened the door himself.
“Duke Russell.”
“I greet the sun of Escliff.”
Duke Russell, seated on the sofa inside, stood and bowed. Ivan neither returned the greeting nor granted permission for the duke to rise; he merely stared at the back of Russell’s bald head.
“I’ve recently hurt my back, Your Majesty. Please forgive me for raising my head without permission.”
After a brief moment, Duke Russell straightened up and smiled, locking eyes with Ivan. Of course, the emperor hadn’t given permission. And clearly, the duke didn’t look like a man in pain.
“Of course, I understand, Duke.”
Arrogant bastard, Ivan thought.
“Thank you for your understanding.”
Duke Russell responded smoothly, offering thanks while subtly mocking imperial authority.
“Perhaps it’s time you considered passing your title to your son.”
Ivan continued, unable to tolerate such insolence. A faint twitch appeared at the corners of the duke’s previously smiling mouth.
Impudent brat, thought Duke Russell.
Ivan read the thought clearly—and smiled.
