Chapter 6 – Second Sin

After the first night, I visited her room almost every day.

Sometimes, worried her lovely body might wear out, I simply held her as we slept. But the red flesh, always swollen, never had a day to recover.

The nightly visits that began with the budding of spring flowers soon greeted early summer. By then, even our sleeping patterns had become a kind of routine.

When I opened the door, she greeted me with her beautiful, sleeping face. I washed my hands in the silver basin the maid had brought, and asked about her day. Even without an answer, her complexion showed how hard her day had been. She was not receiving the treatment she deserved.

That pained me, so I kissed her lips, bruised from biting, to comfort her after a hard day. I would whisper passionate vows for her to wait for me just a little longer.

It was no longer difficult to remove her cumbersome nightgown. Her familiar white body welcomed me, and I would stroke her in greeting, whispering the longing built up during the day. After caressing every part of her, dew would gather at her folds.

When I opened the red flower blooming for me, her ivory cheeks would blush faintly with the color of Lucdia. Her silver lashes would flutter like butterfly wings.

Enjoying the sensation of her warm, loosened insides and her sweet scent melted away all my fatigue.

Sucking and stimulating her peak with care became an essential pleasure. When my jaw ached from sucking, her tip would emerge.

I would tease the tender fruit with my fingers until it was ripe with pleasure. The beautiful color and soft texture were wonderful, but the greatest satisfaction was touching flesh that no one else, not even its owner, had ever touched.

Rolling her n*pple in my mouth while thrusting into her would bend her slender waist as if it might break, stiffening tightly. Her already narrow insides would squeeze me as if grasping with a hand.

I didn’t bother holding back, pushing my hips in as deeply as possible. Even asleep, she would shiver adorably when accepting my seed.

After the first climax, I would hold her and recount the day’s events. Whispering funny stories sometimes made it feel as if I heard her laughter. When the mood struck, I would spread her legs and enter her again.

Repeating this several times, the cruel dawn sun would rise before I knew it. Sleeping with her was always satisfying, but like drinking saltwater, my thirst only grew.

Leaving her room at dawn, the dew on the grass would wet my trouser hems. Even as I moved swiftly like a thief, I would glance back at her room’s terrace. I missed the woman who would be on the other side. From the moment the sun rose, I eagerly waited for night to fall again.

That was the kind of summer it was. As the weather grew hotter each day, the pleasure only deepened.

It seemed that, like a knight’s training, repeated coupling over time only made the pleasure greater. The happy thing was that she seemed to feel the same.

Her expression, once close to pain, gradually changed to one of sweet pleasure. It was the happiest change in the world. More than my own pleasure, I was prouder that her body was becoming accustomed.

That led me to a certain goal.

Saintess, did you know that a woman’s body has three spots that bring pleasure? Two are on the br*asts, and the other is inside the folds. Usually, two protrude from the skin, and one is half-buried within. Hers, however, were all shyly hidden beneath the flesh. That, too, was truly like her.

If she were to remain pure all her life, that would have suited her as well. But that is no longer her fate. He intended to give her every worldly happiness. Whatever he saw or heard, his first thought was to offer it to her, which was a problem in itself.

He wanted her to live surrounded by the sweetest things—not bland, bitter food or coarse, simple cloth, but the most noble, radiant, and joyful things. Of course, pleasure as a woman would be a significant part of that.

Another base plan, that is, his second sin, began with this.

* * *

“…Unexpected.”

The commander wiped his palm along his thigh for a long moment. Ariena absentmindedly watched the gesture, then belatedly turned her gaze away. His body, hard as steel without a trace of softness, stuck in her mind’s eye. She blinked to erase the lingering image.

“I was prepared to be slapped at least once by now, Your Holiness.”

“……Is there any limit to confessing one’s sins to a Priest? Please, do not hold anything back.”

Karil was right. Even if she was now an empty shell of a Saintess, Ariena’s proud dignity had not crumbled. She might not slap him, but it was typical of Ria not to let rudeness pass unpunished.

Yet… Ariena bit her lip.

Yet, Karil’s confession was too detailed and strangely passionate to be considered a mere admission of guilt. As if… as if he was trying to provoke the listener—Ariena.

Ariena narrowed her eyes, studying Karil. His blue eyes glittered with a gloomy light, silently watching Ria. The feeling of being scrutinized sent a chill down her spine.

“You’re not acting like yourself, Saintess.”

“…….”

It sounded like he was provoking her, asking why she was holding back, as if he wanted Ria to lose her composure.

What stopped Ariena was a dangerous sense of anxiety. It was the instinct of a prey animal facing a predator, the dizzying feeling just before tumbling down the stairs.

Ariena forced herself to control her actions and expression. Even a small movement felt like it would set something in motion—something Ria couldn’t stop or undo.

A silence fell, so heavy that even the sound of a pin dropping could be heard.

Karil broke it.

“You’re hosting the charity event again this harvest festival, aren’t you?”

“…Yes. It’s an annual event.”

“The Imperial Palace holds a festival too. There’s plenty of delicacies and all kinds of sights—it’s quite enjoyable. I think you’d like it, Saintess.”

His tone was calm, with no hint of hidden meaning. He sat up straight and met her eyes directly. Yet the intent behind his words was tangled, hard to discern. Ria remained silent.

“They say a maiden who becomes a bride on harvest night receives the Goddess’s blessing and lives in comfort all her life.”

Karil turned to look out the window. His sharply cut jaw was flushed as if burning. Had he been drinking? It was common for people to confess sins under the influence. If so, his erratic conversation made sense. Ariena swallowed her rising fatigue and replied without enthusiasm.

“I’ve heard so… Are you planning to marry this woman?”

The tension that had covered his sculpted profile melted away. Like a beast, he slowly turned to face Ria directly. On his previously marble-like, emotionless face appeared a smile that seemed pleased, though somehow unsettling. Ria skillfully hid her unease and continued.

“In that case, you should confess your sin and seek forgiveness from her first.”

“That is my intention.”

“…She’ll probably forgive you. You are, after all, Lord Karil.”

It wasn’t flattery for the prince’s sake. The beginning may not have been gentle, but that young lady would likely accept Karil. There was no better groom in the Empire than him.

Even aside from his noble blood and great achievements, his coexistence of dignity and wildness, and his knightly, restrained manner easily melted any woman’s heart. Even young Ariena had felt that way once, her heart fluttering at the naive justice of a fledgling knight.

What she didn’t understand was his actions. Even without using the Lucdia flower for such a purpose, most young ladies would have given their hearts for a single blossom. Why, then? It wasn’t as if she had taken a vow of chastity.

But it was a meaningless curiosity. Finishing the confession and sending away this dangerous guest was urgent. Ariena offered a learned social phrase.

“My blessings on your happy occasion.”

“Blessings, you say.”

Karil laughed quietly. Feeling she’d revealed her humble position, Ariena added an explanation.

“I’m a Priestess short on time and money, so I apologize.”

“No, that sentiment is enough.”

Though his lips still held a trace of a smile, his sapphire eyes shone with rare seriousness. Karil clasped his hands on his bent knee, leaning his upper body toward Ria.

“The heart of God’s most beloved is all I could wish for.”

God’s most beloved. In the past, perhaps, but now it was a name too grand for her. People used the faded title to mock Ariena, now an empty shell. But the man before her seemed to truly believe Ria was still the radiant daughter of God.

His blue eyes, narrowed as if gazing at something dazzling, met hers piercingly. Why did he look at her that way? Ria held her breath.

Noticing her tension, he lazily leaned back. Yet his persistent gaze remained, like a predator watching captured prey.

“I’ll continue my confession.”