With a blunt voice, he answered:

“Yes. I am ever grateful for the count’s grace.”

“Oh, my mistake—pardon me, Count.”

Cassian hastily corrected his mistake. After all, Lucrezia Cardini was no longer just the late Count’s daughter or the acting regent of the domain. Cassian himself had seen to it that the Pope excommunicated the former regent, Paolo Cardini, and had delivered bribes to persuade the hesitant king to affix his seal.

Even when insulted, Lucrezia smiled with the gentleness of spring.

“No, call me as you wish. After all, we are all brothers, are we not?”

Her beautiful mask sometimes held more power than the Cardini silver mines. Cassian grinned like a fool. Whether or not the rumors that she had murdered her own father were true was irrelevant.

Lucrezia then began to question him, mostly about the state of the central dioceses. There was no room for empty talk of blessings or divine favor. Ignorant of how he was being used, the puppet revealed everything he knew.

Lucrezia played the part of an innocent young lady who was curious about life in the city. When Cassian relayed gossip about a certain bishop’s venereal disease, she gasped and exclaimed, ‘Oh my!’ in feigned shock. But Serpino knew the truth. Even then, she was already plotting her next move. Every careless word that Cassian let slip would soon be forged into Lucrezia’s weapons.

The exchange of chatter came to an end. Cassian rose to his feet, his purpose already accomplished. Yet Lucrezia held him back with a gentle voice.

“I’ve had a room prepared for you. Stay a few days before you leave.”

“I can remain at the church instead, if you prefer…”

“This is my castle.”

“In that case…”

Cassian could not suppress the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. Offers and refusals like these were just a formality. Refusing was just an excuse for petty pride. Whenever he came, Cassian did not stay at the church, but here in the lord’s castle. There was no reason to decline the wine, food, or gifts — they were what had lured him there in the first place.

Once Cassian had left, only two people remained in the audience chamber: Serpino immediately sank to his knees before Lucrezia, drew a white handkerchief from his br*ast pocket, and wiped her hand as though cleansing it. Nothing had stained it, yet he could not rid himself of the disgust.

“That swine talks far too much.”

“Indeed. He’ll have to be used up and discarded.”

Lucrezia’s voice was cold, a far cry from the softness she had displayed only moments earlier. Despite her languid tone, there was no gentleness in the way she spoke about ‘discarding’ Cassian.

Serpino found her lack of attachment to even her own confidants strangely relieving. No matter how useful someone was, she cast them aside without hesitation once they were no longer valuable to her. And that, paradoxically, eased his heart. Only he would remain — her lamb, her chosen disciple.

If Serpino were to name the presence that disturbed him the most, it would undoubtedly be Dante Barvaro. Even after their engagement had been formally dissolved, Serpino could find no peace. Although he was no longer her fiancé, Dante continued to come and go from the castle as he pleased. Serpino knew this was connected to Lucrezia’s ascension to the position of countess, but it did nothing to ease his unease.

Then, at last, that winter, news came of her formal succession. It arrived in the midst of developing the fourth silver mine. Serpino threw himself at her feet, begging her to cast Dante Barvaro aside. Her reply was this:

“Poison and blades won’t suffice. His men are always close by, so it would be far too difficult to carry out such methods.”

The next day, Dante Barvaro fell to his death while inspecting the newly developed mine. Perhaps the height had been too treacherous. Even with his skull shattered, he did not die instantly. A messenger of the divine stood in silence, watching until the final breath left his body.

Afterward, Lucrezia, as lord, paid compensation to his family and ensured they inherited his share of the silver mine. Unfortunately, the new contract for ownership he had signed the day before was somehow lost.

And to the disciple who had received revelation well, a special sacrament was bestowed. Even now, whenever Serpino recalled it, his body grew fevered. Every strand of his hair, every drop of blood running through his veins, pulled him ever closer to his god.

Like a child seeking comfort, Serpino pressed his cheek against Lucrezia’s knee. She gently stroked the side of his face, kneaded his soft earlobe, then caressed the back of his neck. Serpino let out a heated sigh.

“Haah… Lady Lucrezia…”

He shifted his hips restlessly, a futile attempt to rouse his lower body, until he shamelessly rubbed himself against the floor. Lucrezia’s voice carried a note of laughter.

“Your patience dwindles by the day.”

“My apologies.”

“It can’t be helped.”

There was no rebuke in her tone. Lucrezia was the leader and Serpino merely followed her. She graciously overlooked his weakness.

Lifting the hem of her skirt slightly, Lucrezia invited Serpino to crawl beneath it. The narrow space was filled with her warm, comforting scent. He buried his nose in her groin and took a deep breath.

Veronica, who had hanged herself the previous autumn, Dante Barbaro, who had fallen from the cliff, and Bishop Cassian, who would soon become nothing more than mangled flesh, had never received such grace. Then, as now, Serpino was the chosen disciple alone. By the side of the living god, he would do anything to keep his place.

Her scent enveloped him, permeating the thin fabric. Serpino licked her through the cloth. He pressed his face deep into it, tasting faint traces of the sacred elixir. Lucrezia pushed his head firmly down through the skirt above him.

“Mmm…”

The zealous disciple worked his mouth all the harder. His nose was crushed and his breath was cut off, but he took pleasure in that, too. His tongue burned as he lapped upwards from below like a dog.

Lucrezia leaned her head back, relishing the sensation. For a moment, her gaze met that of a maid passing the audience chamber. Yet the woman walked on as though she had seen nothing. Those whom Lucrezia had chosen and chosen again possessed such unfailing discretion.

Her thighs tightened and a sudden rush spilled forth. Serpino gratefully drank down the sacrament, sucking the soaked fabric until not a drop remained. Finally freeing himself from his regret, he crawled out from beneath her skirts.

“Thank you.”

With unfocused, hazy eyes, Lucrezia gazed down at him. His face, refined ever closer to her tastes, was now smeared with her transparent fl*id.

She glanced at his groin. Though he writhed like a restless hound, his loins were rather subdued. Lucrezia struck him between the legs with the tip of her shoe. A dull sound rang out as the hard leather met flesh.

“Show me.”

At her command, Serpino shot upright. Without hesitation, he lifted the long hem of his cassock and pulled his trousers down. The fitted undergarment she had given him was revealed beneath them.