Chapter 3 (Part 1)

“Ah!”  

Ian woke up with a start, his eyes snapping open. He sat up and turned on the light in the dark room, the flickering glow illuminating his face. Despite the beads of sweat dripping from him, his appearance remained clean and pure.  

As the nightmare that had tormented him moments ago resurfaced in his mind, Ian’s face twisted with anguish.  

The content of the dream was horrifying. A giant hand appeared and swallowed him whole. Then, another hand emerged and stimulated his lower body.  

Ian hated the strange sensations, but he couldn’t escape the enormous hand. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get away. It felt like an inescapable shackle, something he would never break free from.  

Having woken up after such torment, it was no wonder he still felt unsettled. As he let out a long groan, covering his face with both hands, Ian noticed something unusual.  

It wasn’t just his discomfort; an unexplainable irritation was welling up inside him.  

With a sense of dread, he lifted his blanket. The moment he saw the dampness below, he cursed under his breath.  

“Damn it!”  

Since being ordained as a priest, this was the first time he had experienced a wet dream. Confused and shaken, Ian ran his hands through his hair.  

“What is wrong with me?”  

Ian was aware that his body was undergoing subtle changes. This all started after ‘that day’. The day he slept soundly, free from insomnia—a day when his long-suppressed desires stirred back to life.  

For the next two days after that, he had slept deeply. But on the third day, his insomnia returned.  

Although he was sleeping more than before, he began to suffer from strange nightmares. And now, he had reached the point of experiencing wet dreams like this.  

“Why is this happening to me? Am I being punished for coveting something I shouldn’t have?”  

Ian muttered bitterly, covering his face with his hands.  

Since that day, Ian had developed a fierce longing for the first time. If he could sleep deeply once more, he felt like he would do anything.  

Until then, Ian had lived a life of detachment, free from greed. But now, for the first time, he found himself wanting something. The sweetness of restful sleep had become an obsession, and he had tried everything to achieve it again.  

He ate the same food he had at the Bucklew estate, wore the same pajamas he had worn there, and even purchased curtains identical to those in the Bucklew estate to recreate the atmosphere. Yet, he still couldn’t sleep at night.  

In fact, the more he tried to replicate the conditions of the Bucklew estate, the more dormant sensations began to awaken within him.  

The most shocking of these was that his previously unresponsive lower body now moved on its own.  

Whenever the sensations from that day resurfaced in his mind, his previously inert body would suddenly spring to life.  

Of course, it didn’t happen often. Most of the time, he forgot about it, but every now and then, it would stand er*ect. Thankfully, it only happened when he was alone. If someone else had been present, it would have been incredibly embarrassing.  

At first, Ian tried to suppress it with prayer, and for the first two or three times, it worked. But after that, prayer alone wasn’t enough, and he had to resort to punishing his own body to subdue it.  

Had the ecstasy I felt at the Bucklew estate, combined with the sweet rest I had experienced after so long, created a crack in the firm beliefs I had upheld all his life?  

This was something Ian had never experienced before, and it came as a massive shock to him. He could only believe that God was severely reprimanding him for his sinful actions.  

In his current situation, all Ian could do was endure the trials that had come upon him.  

“Sigh.”  

Letting out a deep sigh, Ian rose from his bed and headed to the bathroom. He needed to wash away the impure sensations that were creeping up on him.  

After thoroughly cleansing himself, Ian made his way to the chapel to pray. On the way, he noticed that the priests around him seemed unusually busy.  

Recalling that the 100th-anniversary celebration of the Atheon Temple was approaching, Ian redirected his steps toward Priest Gilbert, who was standing nearby. When Ian approached, Priest Gilbert’s face lit up.  

“Priest Ian, I was just about to come find you. This is perfect timing. The list of participants for the 100th-anniversary event has been finalized. Would you like to check it?”  

“Yes.”  

Since Ian was also scheduled to participate in the event, it was necessary for him to review the list of attendees. With a polite demeanor, he accepted the list Priest Gilbert handed him.  

As he scanned the names without much thought, his eyes widened when he saw a particular name.  

Cecilia Bucklew? Could it be the young lady who snuck into my room that day?  

He couldn’t remember the woman’s name clearly. But if she was a young lady from the Bucklew Viscount family, it had to be her. After all, the young lady who had been discussed as a potential bride for Earl Beaufort was Rasilia Bucklew.  

Could she have applied just to see me again?  

It wasn’t arrogance that made Ian think the young lady had come to see him. The temple had deliberately recruited more participants than necessary for the 100th-anniversary event in order to collect substantial donations.  

For the 100th anniversary, the temple needed 20 participants to stay inside the temple for 100 days, praying all day. However, they had actually recruited 100 participants.  

The 20 would remain in the temple and devote themselves to prayer, while the remaining 80 would visit the temple briefly during the day to pray. The temple had schemed to fill the 80 spots with nobles who could afford to make large donations.  

To ensure enough participants, the temple had offered an enticing benefit: they would reveal the days Ian would be in the confessional booth in advance, allowing participants to reserve a session with him.  

As a result, the 80 spots were filled quickly, while the 20 remaining spots had to be filled with young ladies from lower-ranking noble families in remote areas, with the royal family’s help.  

Cecilia Bucklew’s name was on the list of 20 participants. However, Ian couldn’t shake the suspicion that she had applied with impure intentions.  

It had been less than a week since the incident between them, and now they were being brought together again. It was too much of a coincidence to be explained away.  

Was it a lie when she said she had entered my room to seduce my brother?  

This made Ian wonder if her claim that she had tried to steal her younger sister’s fiancé was also a lie meant to escape the situation.  

Was she truly a villainess who hated her sister, or was there another reason behind her actions?  

Though the question crossed his mind briefly, Ian soon dismissed such thoughts. It didn’t matter what kind of person she was.  

What mattered was that Cecilia was the one he needed to be most cautious of. She was the first woman to ever cause him such great turmoil.  

The movement of that hand was also quite… What am I even thinking!  

As Ian thought of Cecilia, he shook his head. She was a young lady he didn’t even need to remember. If they met again, he could simply ignore her. Even if she came to the confessional booth, he would only give obligatory responses.  

So, he immediately erased the troublesome woman from his mind.  

* * *

“Take care, Rasilia.”  

As the time to leave for the temple approached, Cecilia bid farewell to Rasilia, who had come to see her off.  

“Big Sister….”  

Unlike Cecilia, who wore a smile on her lips, Rasilia’s face was stiff with worry.  

“I’ll write to you. If we exchange letters, the 100 days will pass quickly.”  

“….”  

Rasilia, biting her lips and trying hard to hold back her tears, grabbed Cecilia’s sleeve.  

“…I want to go too. I can’t let you go alone.”  

“You know very well that all the participant slots for the event are already filled, so you can’t come with me. It’s just a temporary separation. I’ll be back soon, so don’t worry.”  

Even as Cecilia reassured her, Rasilia showed no intention of letting go of her tightly held sleeve, clearly expressing her reluctance to let her leave.  

Seeing her like this, Cecilia smiled bitterly.  

‘You’re sending my sister to the temple? Please let me go with her.’  

When Rasilia found out belatedly that Cecilia was going to the temple, she protested to Viscount Bucklew. Knowing that her father was trying to blame Cecilia for the broken marriage arrangement, she wanted to help her sister in any way she could.  

But no matter how much Rasilia insisted, it was futile. Viscount Bucklew’s decision was firm, so Cecilia had to be the one to console Rasilia.