Chapter 4.2

Chapter 4.2

Contempt for such behavior was evident in Ivan’s reply. Amelia naturally realized that Ivan didn’t like getting drunk.

“I’ve never tasted it before, so I was curious. I wondered if it really makes you feel good.”

Amelia changed the subject, as if savoring a taste.

“What do people talk about when they gather?”

Amelia leaned closer to Ivan.

“They just talk about life. They say, ‘It’s a good harvest this year,’ or ‘It’s a bad harvest.’ Someone’s neighbor had a baby. Sometimes they even talk about a dog having puppies.”

Ivan replied casually.

“They often get into fights too. Usually after losing money playing cards.”

“Wow… Isn’t that bad?”

“There’s nothing bad about seeking a little fun.”

Ivan’s reply was indifferent. Amelia, already convinced that Ivan was a wayward priest, didn’t bother trying to reform him.

“Sometimes they even make bets over a woman.”

“Bets?”

“On who can seduce a woman first.”

At Ivan’s words, Amelia’s mouth parted slightly, and she blinked.

“Because they want to be lovers?”

“Usually, it’s hard to say that’s because they want to be lovers.”

Ivan gave a short laugh at her innocent question. It was as if he was dealing with a young lady who knew nothing of the world.

“Just a night’s pleasure, perhaps?”

“That’s, that’s truly bad.”

Amelia furrowed her brows.

“They’re not valuing the other person’s feelings, are they? No matter what kind of pain they cause…”

“Don’t trouble yourself over it. It has nothing to do with you, anyway.”

Ivan cut Amelia off, saying there was no need for her to concern herself with unrelated matters. In truth, more than half of the stories heard in taverns were trivial chatter that didn’t warrant close attention, so it was natural. Yet, his words sounded somehow cold and chilling. It was as if they revealed his true nature, hidden deep within him.

“They also talk about you sometimes.”

Amelia paused at Ivan’s words, which seemed meant to change the subject. Her eyes, which had slowly rolled as if searching the air, turned back to Ivan.

“What do they say about me?”

“If you’re truly immortal. If you truly don’t age. If you’re truly God’s representative.”

Ivan answered Amelia’s question nonchalantly.

“Is that truly so?”

It wasn’t a particularly profound question. Yet, Amelia strangely felt her heart plummet.

“Hmm…”

Amelia offered an awkward smile. She could easily reveal to Aaron that she wasn’t a Priestess, but it was difficult to do so with Ivan. Amelia knew her usefulness lay in that very role. That was why, even if she asked people to call her by her name, she never claimed not to be the Priestess.

She didn’t want to die for having outlived her usefulness.

Perhaps it was her conscience that made Ivan’s innocent question feel like a sharp attack. Amelia lowered her eyes halfway to hide her trembling gaze.

“I asked a strange question.”

“…”

“It’s obvious, after all.”

Ivan added an excuse, as if he hadn’t meant to question Amelia’s existence. Her heart pounded. Amelia felt a fragile guilt towards him.

“You said you were curious about the taste of alcohol earlier, right? Shall I bring some?”

Watching her, Ivan naturally changed the subject. Amelia forgot the guilt she’d felt moments before, her eyes widening in surprise.

“You can bring it into the temple?”

“If you hide it well enough, anything can be brought in.”

Ivan replied brazenly. Considering he had snuck into the temple himself, hiding his very presence, a little alcohol was hardly a big deal.

“No. What if you get in trouble for it?”

However, Amelia shook her head, deeming it too risky a problem. Bringing in a forbidden item, especially alcohol, was different from simply having a secret conversation. Amelia knew very well what kind of punishments those who broke the rules received.

“Instead of that, just…”

Amelia opened her mouth hesitantly. To be honest, she didn’t yet trust Ivan enough to confide all her truths and ask for help. This was only their second meeting.

Still, she liked Ivan, the only one who treated her comfortably in this temple-turned-prison. He could tell her stories of a world she didn’t know, a world everyone else hid from her.

“Next time too.”

Amelia gripped Ivan’s sleeve and whispered. It was more of a plea than a suggestion. Ivan gazed down at the priest’s robe sleeve, precariously held in Amelia’s grasp. Her slender fingers trembled slightly, as if fearing rejection.

“…Anytime.”

Clouds drifted over the stained glass in the ceiling. The light dimmed. The faint smile at the corner of Ivan’s mouth was hidden in the gathering darkness.