4.6

After explaining in detail, Johann alternated glances between Helena and Isaac before dragging Fred out of the treatment room.  

“Well then, we’ll be off. We should be back by this evening, but if it rains, we might return tomorrow. Isaac, take care of the chapel while we’re gone.”  

“Yes. Don’t worry and have a safe trip.”  

“But we still have time left—!”  

Despite Fred’s protests about having time to spare, Johann forcibly dragged him away. Left alone in the treatment room, Helena and Isaac found themselves in an awkward silence.  

Helena took a seat on one of the empty beds, feeling uneasy. This was her first time facing him since the confessional, and for some reason, she found it difficult to deal with him. Perhaps it was because she had come to realize that she was in love with him.  

Tap, tap, tap—  

The sound of heavy raindrops hitting the windows filled the room. The weather had been humid and overcast all day, and now the rain had finally begun to fall. Helena sat quietly, gazing at the rainy scenery. Her senses gradually dulled. The smell of rain, the sound of the downpour, and the thick humidity in the air all seemed to wrap around her like chains, binding her in place.  

“That man… who is he?”  

Isaac suddenly broke the silence, bringing up the topic that had been bothering him endlessly. Helena, still staring out the window, opened her mouth to reply.  

“Does it matter to you?”  

Her voice, made sharp by the rain and her frayed nerves, was low and subdued. Isaac’s reflection in the rain-streaked window grew larger and larger. She truly wanted to ask him: why did he care about her? Was it lust? Or was it love?  

If only the answer could come as easily as in old fairy tales, where a prince’s kiss of true love could break a curse.  

By now, she could no longer claim that she wanted his love simply because of their bet. But when she thought of that ‘Uncle,’ she knew she had to end this quickly.  

“I am still… a priest.”  

“Still, huh….”  

Desperate and frustrated, Helena finally took the risk of releasing her pheromones into the treatment room. The scent of rain-soaked roses tickled Isaac’s nose.  

“Revered Priest, would you… hear my confession?”  

Remembering the words he had spoken last time—about washing away her sins—Isaac closed the distance between them. Close enough to touch if he extended his hand. She still had her back to him, watching his reflection in the rain-speckled window.  

“Yes. I will cleanse your sins with my lips.”  

There were no prayers to the Goddess. Isaac no longer wished to sully the Goddess’s name. Standing still, he carefully lifted Helena’s crimson hair and pressed a kiss upon it. He wanted to erase the gentle touch of another man he had seen two days ago with this kiss.  

“For my own safety, I kissed someone I do not love.”  

Her confession flowed like a sweet melody. Isaac froze mid-action and turned to face the window. Heavy raindrops struck the glass, blurring her reflection. The rain poured harder, to the point where it seemed unlikely anyone would visit the chapel.  

‘Merciful Goddess, forgive me for my vile sins.’  

Isaac recalled the prayer he had been muttering to himself for two days.  

The scene had haunted him ever since the day he visited Helena’s house, after hearing that a suspicious man had come to see her.  

A woman sitting on a man’s thigh, holding onto his shoulders as they kissed. It was a sight he felt he shouldn’t be witnessing, yet Isaac couldn’t tear his eyes away. The man’s hand gently stroked her crimson hair with utmost tenderness—so different from how Isaac had handled her. His chest burned with a searing pain, as if something was boiling and stabbing him at the same time.  

From the moment he saw her kissing another man, Isaac’s mind had been plagued by images of fleshly indulgence.  

Helena, offering her chest to another man and moaning softly. Helena, spreading her legs wantonly for another man, just as she had done for him. Helena, taking another man inside her and letting out sweet, pretty sounds. Helena, beneath another man, her body flushed and crying out in ecstasy.  

These thoughts consumed him. In the end, he had to grasp his own arousal, and after a long session of self-release, he was left drowning in guilt for his sinful thoughts.  

“Would the Goddess see me as a lewd woman and punish me?”  

Helena’s voice, speaking of lewdness, snapped Isaac out of his recollections. If punishment were to be dealt, it was he who deserved it, not her.  

Isaac turned Helena around to face him. Her eyes, which seemed different from usual, filled him with an inexplicable sadness. Without answering, he kissed her forehead, then each of her cheeks in turn, just as he had done before. Finally, he carefully pulled her into an embrace.  

“…I need time.”  

Although he had already come to terms with his feelings, Isaac didn’t know how to explain everything to High Priest Francis, the priest who had raised him. Surely, Francis would be pleased, but Isaac couldn’t help feeling uneasy. After this, he would need the approval of the local diocese, and finally, the Pope’s blessing. The process was complicated, and it wouldn’t be resolved in a single day. Until then, he would have no choice but to remain in his position as a priest.  

Moreover, his deep-rooted faith in the Goddess continued to weigh on him. Even as he loved Helena, he was consumed by endless guilt.  

“…You asked me who he was. He’s a friend… my only friend.”  

Who would ever kiss a friend? Yet Isaac believed her words. He could trust everything Helena said—except for her claim that she didn’t love him.  

“…I don’t have much time left, Isaac.”  

“I promise it won’t take long.”  

He pulled her into a tighter embrace, burying his face in the pale curve of her neck. With every moment he spent near her, the scent of roses grew stronger. The fresh, sweet fragrance, tinged with a faint hint of grass, filled his lungs and pounded against his heart.  

“Isaac. Do you… love me?”  

He dared to love her. But the weight of confessing such a sin in words was too heavy. He couldn’t bring himself to burden her with the same guilt, so Isaac responded with silence.  

At that moment, he felt the soft touch of her lips against his neck. It stung briefly, as if she had bared her teeth, but the sensation quickly turned into a pleasant pressure, as though she were leaving a mark. Isaac stayed still, entranced by the increasingly heady scent of roses. He felt so drowsy that he wanted to fall asleep just like this.  

Creak—thud, thud, thud.  

The groan of an old wooden door and the sound of hurried footsteps down the hallway jolted Isaac back to reality. The sweet scent shattered, scattered by the smell of rain.  

Helena, startled, pulled her lips away from Isaac’s neck and licked her now-reddened lips.  

“Let’s talk again later. The two of us.”  

Leaving behind those cryptic words, Helena disappeared from the treatment room.  

Isaac tried to follow her, but he suddenly felt a stinging pain in his neck. He reached up to touch it, and his fingers came away slick. Bringing his hand before his eyes, he saw crimson liquid staining his fingertips.  

* * *

Whoosh— 

Rain poured so heavily that Helena could barely see a step ahead of her. It lashed against her body relentlessly. She sharpened her senses, trying to track down the rat, but all she could feel were raindrops.  

“Damn it!”  

She cursed, but her words were swallowed by the rain and drowned out. In her desperation, she had only intended to taste him lightly, just enough to confirm his love.  

The sight of blood trickling vividly from Isaac’s neck, and her drinking it—  

How could that rat have seen such a scene? 

She had assumed that since Fred had left for the neighboring village, he wouldn’t return to the treatment room. She had let her guard down. That rat, Fred, must have been sent by the Goddess to interfere with her.  

The Goddess, who tormented her to the very end. The rain, Fred—she hated it all.  

Helena steadied herself, recalling the sweet taste lingering on her tongue.  

*Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.*  

Through the sound of the rain, she heard the uneven rhythm of a panicked heartbeat and burst into laughter. Strength surged through Helena’s body, amplified by the love-infused blood she had consumed. Without hesitation, she began running toward the sound of the heartbeat.  

At the end of the increasingly loud thumping, she found a small rat trembling like an aspen leaf, crouched beneath a tree.  

“Found you.”  

“You, you monster! Get out of our village at once! I, I call upon the Goddess who created us! Under Her name, banish the darkness and bring forth the light—”  

Fred, clutching the Goddess’s Wing tightly in his hands, recited a prayer. Helena laughed mockingly at the sight. Raindrops slid off the dense leaves above them.  

“Do you really think something like that can kill me?”  

With every step she took closer, Fred turned paler and tried to back away. But he was cornered by the tree, with nowhere left to run or hide. Screaming, he threw holy water toward Helena.  

“H-hiiiick—!”  

Sizzle—  

The holy water evaporated the instant it touched her skin, leaving no scars. Another vampire might have been severely injured, but for Helena, it was little more than a minor sting. The reaction was different from when she had drunk holy water, and Fred shrank further into himself, trembling even more.  

Helena looked down at the pitiful rat, her thoughts swirling.  

‘Ah, Mila… What should I do with the son who so resembles you?’  

If Mila learned that her son had been killed by a vampire, she would undoubtedly be devastated and heartbroken. Helena vividly remembered Mila handing her a bouquet of pale pink roses, telling her to find happiness with the one she loved.  

“Foolish child.”  

At her gentle words, Fred continued to tremble but raised his eyes to meet hers.  

“You saw something you weren’t supposed to, but you’ve been spared because of your mother.”  

“Hic!”  

“So live quietly, as you always have. Pretend you don’t know anything.”  

Helena knelt down, lowering herself to meet the frightened boy’s gaze. His eyes, unfortunately, resembled his mother’s, and they unsettled her. Fear lingered in those eyes, which had witnessed Helena drinking blood.  

“I don’t want to kill you. So, wouldn’t it be better if no rumors spread?”  

At her words, Fred seemed to gain a fleeting sense of courage. He stammered and blurted out, as if vomiting the words:  

“A-are you going to… k-kill Priest Isaac?”  

Even in his fear, he worried about someone else rather than himself. It reminded Helena once again of his mother, and she let out a dry laugh.  

‘Mila, so many traces of you make me weak.’  

“No.”  

“Why…?”  

She didn’t answer his question. Instead, Helena stood up. Her rain-soaked body felt unbearably heavy. The strength she had gained from the blood she drank was already fading.  

“I’ll be leaving this place soon. Doesn’t that put your mind at ease?”  

“A-are you really not going to harm the village?”  

“You’re the one who dug into what happened twenty years ago, aren’t you? …So don’t worry and go on your way.”  

A mix of threats and reassurances. Helena thought she had shown plenty of mercy to Mila’s son. With that, she turned and began walking back to her home.  

The sweet taste of blood lingered on her tongue, signaling the end of the game. 

Just a little longer now