When the Holy Flame Day arrived, the streets were filled with a festive atmosphere. It was the day the goddess gave fire to mankind.

To celebrate, everyone brought out silver candlesticks and lit candles in their homes, sharing warmth and delicious food with their families.

Hymns echoed through the streets, and even the begging children were given bread. Poets and musicians came out to sing praises to the goddess Vallinea.

Although the Empire was filled with joy and a cheerful atmosphere, Tilda did not share it. She went to the chapel of the Papal Palace and spent a silent, solitary time there.

Kneeling before the statue of the Goddess, she clasped her hands to her chest. As sunlight streamed in through the stained glass on the ceiling, a wound on the back of her hand became visible.

It was a holy and sacred day when everyone gave thanks to the Goddess, but Tilda, who had a treacherous intention to take advantage of the day, confessed her sin to the Goddess in advance.

Furthermore…

Tilda still carried guilt that she had yet to resolve. Even though she had knew the truth because of Aklaire, it didn’t mean that all her sins had disappeared.

Bang!

At that moment, a man burst through the door, breaking the silence.

“There you are, as I expected.”

It was Calles, who had been assigned to guard Tilda that day.

“You’ll have plenty of time for prayers during the formal ritual later.”

“The prayer I offer now is different.”

“Oh? How so?”

“…”

Tilda couldn’t bring herself to answer. It was a story too old, too worn with time—and yet, it was also a long-buried source of shame she had never fully escaped.

As Calles walked towards the statue, the sound of his footsteps echoed under the high ceiling.

“For what we’re trying to do together, we know far too little about each other.”

“…”

“If you find it hard to speak, how about we each share a secret instead?”

“…”

“We took an oath together, so that much should be acceptable, right?”

Tilda didn’t agree, but Calles continued as he pleased.

“I’ll go first.”

He said, looking up at the statue of the goddess Vallinea.

“I hate the woman who gave me this fate so much that I could die.”

Tilda gasped in shock at such a blasphemous remark in front of the statue.

“Calles Moin!”

“Someone like you, who’s been given so much by her, might like her. But not me.”

His voice was calm, but even with the sunlight streaming through the stained glass, there was a shadow in his eyes.

“When I was a child, I was an orphan with nowhere to go. I wandered from place to place and in the end… I abandoned my sister.”

“…”

“I told myself it was the only way to survive… even in this damned world.”

The weight of his confession overwhelmed Tilda. She couldn’t even bring herself to scold him for speaking such blasphemy in front of the statue.

Abandoning his own sister just to survive… that was a pain she couldn’t even begin to imagine.

Though he appeared composed on the outside, the act must have haunted him with guilt for the rest of his life.

Perhaps it was his raw honesty that moved her.

Tilda suddenly felt a strong urge to open the box of old secrets she had never shared with anyone.

She lowered her hands, which had been neatly clasped together. Then her tightly sealed lips parted.

“…When I was a child, I suffered from divine fever due to an excess of divine power.”

“…”

“My mother died trying to absorb that power from me.”

Even now, the memory made her chest ache.

“And yet… I couldn’t really mourn her death. All I could think about was how scared I was… that there would be no one left to take the fever from me.”

No matter how deeply Aklaire had been involved behind the scenes, it didn’t change the fact of her feelings.

The feelings she had that day remained a scar—one she believed she would have to atone for all her life.

“Do you know what reduces a person to their most primal self?”

Tilda slowly lifted her gaze to meet his.

“Pain.”

“…”

“I don’t think it was wrong of you to put your pain first back then. If a child your age hadn’t feared pain, you’d probably have already ascended to the heavens and become one of the archangels.”

It was a light, offhanded attempt at comfort. And yet, that casual comfort sank deep into her and stirred something strange within her. Perhaps it was because no one had ever said such words to her before.

Tilda opened her tightly clenched throat and forced her voice out.

“I think you must have had your reasons too—if it came to the point where you abandoned your sister.”

Calles let out a small laugh.
“Our dear Saint is rather clumsy at comforting people.”

With those words, he reached out his hand.

“Shall we get moving now? We’ve got the Holy Flame Festival to prepare for, don’t we?”

Still kneeling on the floor, Tilda slowly raised her hand and placed it atop his outstretched palm.

Calles firmly pulled Tilda to her feet.

* * *

There weren’t many people in the papal palace. Most of the important people had gone out with her grandfather. That’s why Tilda felt uncomfortable in this room – it was much quieter than Calles’ residence.

“Wow, there’s a big pond!”

“Komli, don’t get distracted. Stay close.”

At least it had been quiet – until the Edzel siblings arrived.

It seemed that Calles had brought them with him when he came to the palace today, just as he had said he would.

Stella walked briskly, holding her younger brother Komli’s hand. Tilda felt a natural smile form on her lips. As she approached, Stella bowed politely.

“Hello, Your Grace.”

“I’m only the Pope’s successor for now, so you don’t have to call me that.”

“Ah… shall I call you Lady Tilda then?”

“Yes, that’s fine.”

Stella gave a small nod.

“Is the party here tonight?”

“It is. Although technically it’s a bit further away from here.”

The grounds of the Papal Palace were quite large – so large that you needed a carriage just to get around.

“As the host, you’d better hurry and get ready, Lady Tilda.”

Stella said as she rolled up her sleeves. At that moment Calles commented dryly, arms crossed.

“Sure, you work for Tilda now, but are you really going to pretend I don’t exist?”

“Oh! Lord Calles!”

Stella finally recognised him, surprised.

“Hello, Lord Calles.”

Komli also said, clasping his hands over his stomach and bowing at the waist.

“Great. A greeting dragged out of you.”

Calles muttered with mock annoyance.

“Oh, yes! Come to think of it, Lord Lizard was looking for you.”

Calles’ brow furrowed slightly.

“Honestly… they can’t do anything without me.”

Murmuring under his breath, he slipped on the gloves he had taken off and prepared to leave.

“I’ll be back tonight then.”

He said, planting a polite kiss on the back of Tilda’s hand. To Tilda, the gesture was nothing more than disingenuous theatrics – but Stella gasped, “Oh my!” and blushed bright red.

Seeing Stella so upset made Tilda feel a little confused. She must’ve seen him behave like that more than once or twice.

Come to think of it, as Calles had said, Tilda didn’t really know much about him. Even sharing a few hidden secrets hadn’t changed that much.

Most of what she knew about him was just common knowledge – things everyone knew. That he had been the most trusted High Priest under her grandfather, that he had been largely responsible for the subjugation of the Sea Beasts and was therefore very popular with the people, and that, despite all this, his bad manners in everyday life had earned him a number of disapproving looks within the temple.

Finally, as Stella helped Tilda to dress, the curiosity that had been quietly building inside her slipped out.

“What sort of person is Calles, normally?”

Stella paused as she gently stroked Tilda’s long hair and fell into thought.

‘Lord Calles…?’

Hmm… her silence stretched.

“He’s a good man. To the Turin, Lord Calles is like a god.”

That made sense, considering he looked after many powerless members of the Turin people, often acting as a priest on their behalf to right the wrongs they had suffered.

“But not for everyone else. He can be quite ruthless.”

Ruthless…

“For example?”

Stella’s eyes darted around before she let out an embarrassed laugh.

“Sorry, I can’t give you the details. I don’t want to be a traitor.”

‘I must have asked something too sensitive.’

Not wanting to put Stella in an awkward position, she didn’t press further.

As she gathered Tilda’s neatly brushed hair and laid it gently down her back, Stella added.

“Lord Calles is merciless to bad people, but he’s never cruel to the weak or to someone who tells the truth. I can swear to that.”

Tilda fully acknowledged that Calles was probably that kind of person. But whether he was someone who never lied… she wasn’t so sure.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve never brought a woman here before.”

Judging by his casual behaviour, she couldn’t tell where sincerity ended and deceit began. The way he acted and the way he treated women, it was hard to believe.

Still, she couldn’t ask a girl as pure as Stella if Calles had really never brought a woman into his home.

Tilda furrowed her brow without noticing, but quickly recovered her composure when Stella pointed it out. Only then did she realise how strange it was to dwell on such thoughts.

Why should she care how promiscuous he was?

“I’ll fetch the dress you’ll be wearing, Lady Tilda.”

Stella said, before stepping out for a moment and returning soon after with the dress in her arms.

“Isn’t it beautiful? I hear Lord Calles personally chose it with great care.”

It was a dazzling white and elegant gown. Though not overly extravagant, the intricate details made it look refined and graceful.

“I’ll take care of the dress myself.”