Volume 2

Chapter 10 : Requiem Mass (1)

The long-awaited day of the Ritual Mass had finally arrived. The towering walls of the imperial palace stretched so high that the top seemed unreachable, disappearing into the sky.

The palace gates creaked open with a sound like the groan of an ancient b*ast, swallowing the line of priests who had gathered for the Emperor’s Ritual Mass.

“Is Father Marco’s health worsening?”

Father Revencio spotted me among the priests clad in their pure white vestments.

“He’s unable to move easily, so climbing the palace steps is beyond his strength.”

Father Edwin replied on my behalf.

Father Revencio sneered, lifting one corner of his mouth.

“Well, having an old man on the brink of death perform the Ritual Mass would only bring bad luck… Tsk tsk.”

Not wanting to stir up unnecessary trouble, I tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible. I cautiously moved behind Father Edwin, hoping to avoid attention, but Father Revencio addressed me directly.

“Now that I see you, aren’t you the nun who came to the Central Temple to receive the office of lector the other day?”

I was anxious, fearing that Father Revencio might bring up the stolen scripture incident and use it against me.

“…Yes, Father.”

“Good, you’ve brought her just in time.”

To my surprise, Father Revencio’s words were not a dismissal but a sort of praise. Even though his response was positive, I couldn’t afford to relax.

“You’re perfect for the menial tasks. These days, my mouth gets dry when I read the scriptures aloud. When I signal, you’ll bring me tea to wet my throat.”

During the Ritual Mass, only clergy were allowed in, and civilians were strictly prohibited. Naturally, the servants who usually handled such tasks were also barred from entering, so it seemed Father Revencio intended for me to take on the role of a servant, attending to his needs.

“And during the Mass, make sure to stand at the very back. A woman’s touch could bring impurity.”

I bit back the anger that surged within me at his blatant insult.

“Yes, Father.”

I answered, forcing myself to remain composed despite the shame that passed through me like a heavy shadow.

When I lifted my head, I found Father Edwin looking down at me.

Father Edwin’s face remained as stoic as ever, but the worry in his golden eyes was unmistakable.

I wanted to reassure him, to tell him that I was truly fine. No matter how unjustly I was treated, nothing Father Revencio did could surpass the wrongs he had committed in the past.

I had become numb to it all. Nothing he said or did could leave a mark on me anymore.

* * *

“You’ve come diligently from the early morning for my sake, but I’m afraid I cannot rise to greet you.”

The Emperor looked far more lively than the last time I had seen him. His lips, though dry and cracked, were tinged with a faint pallor, but the sharpness in his eyes remained.

“Please, Your Majesty, rest comfortably today. If our fervent prayers reach the heavens, I am certain you will regain your health as before.”

Father Revencio’s wrinkled hand gently grasped the Emperor’s hand as he lay upon the bed.

“With you saying so, I feel reassured.”

Your Majesty, how do you not see it? The very hand that grasps yours so gently is the same one slowly tightening around your throat. You must not be deceived by the mask of kindness worn by this old man.

“Then, let us begin the preparations for the Mass,”

I moved my feet busily, bringing the censer closer to the bed and lighting the candles.

After completing the preparations for the Mass, I followed Father Revencio’s instructions and moved far enough away from the bed that the Emperor wouldn’t notice me.

Father Edwin then joined me, positioning himself in a corner of the room.

“Father, I’m fine on my own,” I whispered.

He responded in a low murmur.

“…It’ll be at least five tedious hours, so I figured I’d distract myself a bit by coming back here.”

Despite his somewhat irritable nature, Father Edwin always maintained the demeanor of a devout priest during Mass. It was clear that he was lying, as his excuse was rather clumsy—it was hard to imagine him thinking about anything else during such a solemn occasion.

The tightly closed doors of the Emperor’s chamber opened, and Abigail, dressed in a pure white gown, stepped inside.

“Welcome, Saintess. We’ve just finished the preparations,” Father Revencio greeted her.

She was barely recognizable from the woman I had seen at the sanctification ceremony a fortnight ago. The once radiant blue eyes had lost all their luster, and her limbs were so emaciated that her bones protruded sharply beneath the fabric of her dress.

“…What should I do?”

Abigail mumbled like an obedient doll, to which Father Revencio responded with a sinister smile.

“Everything else will be taken care of by us. All you need to do, Saintess, is hold the Emperor’s hand throughout the Mass.”

She nodded silently. Just as I had done in the past, Abigail took the Emperor’s hand, and the Ritual Mass began.

“Oh God, who blooms even in the harshest winter, cleanse the sins of these wretched humans with Your blood!” Father Revencio intoned in a booming voice.

“We beseech You to erase original sin, offering the flesh of the priest as a cry of devotion.”

Time passed as the Mass continued, with Father Revencio reciting the scriptures. His voice gradually became raspy, as if clogged with phlegm, and rough, like sand grating between teeth.

“Ugh, ugh!” 

At that moment, Father Revencio raised his left hand slightly, signaling for assistance. I quickly poured water into a cup and handed it to him, and he greedily gulped it down.

Perhaps due to the commotion, Abigail seemed to notice me for the first time, her eyes finally meeting mine. Her face showed a mix of confusion, longing, and relief.

‘Abigail…’

Though she continued to hold the Emperor’s hand, her gaze was now fixed on me. Her face, although gaunt and tired, was filled with emotion as our eyes met.

She looked as though she wanted to say something, her expression wavering between the desire to speak and the verge of tears.

Poor Abigail, it was I who pushed you into the abyss, yet you gaze at me with the tenderness of a lost child who has found their parents.

“The Lord says, ahem, ahem…”

As the Mass dragged on, Father Revencio seemed to grow thirsty and raised his hand again. As I went to fetch more water, I passed close by Abigail.

In that brief moment, as our fingers brushed, I discreetly slipped the note I had prepared into her hand.

I had planned to give it to her after the Mass, but thanks to Father Revencio, an unexpected opportunity arose. I handed the water to him as if nothing had happened and returned to my place. Abigail subtly nodded, signaling that she had received the note.

The note contained a location where we could safely converse.

As the sun began to set, the lengthy Ritual Mass finally seemed to be drawing to a close. While Father Revencio was engaged in conversation with the Emperor, Abigail had already quietly left.

“It’s time. Go now.”

Father Edwin, who had been watching the surroundings, gave me a gentle push. Carrying the water bottle and cup that had been on the table, I naturally exited the chamber.

I hurried to the small storage room opposite the imperial library.

The space had been created during the expansion of the library, but all theological texts had since been moved to the Central Temple.

The space had become useless, a neglected area that had fallen into disrepair.

After Victor ascended to the throne as Emperor, he had the windows enlarged and a rest area created in an attempt to repurpose the space, but now it was little more than a forgotten, dusty room.

When I opened the door and entered, I found Abigail, dressed in her pure white gown, standing there like a ghost in the musty, abandoned storeroom.

“Alicia…”

As soon as she recognized me, she burst into tears like a child.

“Abigail, are you alright?”

“Huuh…”

“Are you hurt? Did someone hit you?”

As tears streamed down Abigail’s face, memories of merciless abuse flashed through my mind.

“Let me see.”

Worried that she might be injured, I impulsively lifted the hem of her dress to check.

“…I’m not hurt. I just… I’m just so happy to see you.”

Despite her reassurance that she wasn’t injured, I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease.

“What brings you here, Alicia? Among the clergy, you were the only nun present.”

“One of the priests from the Archelio Monastery is having difficulty moving, so I came in his place.”

“…Does that mean I’ll be able to see you from now on?”

“You’ll be able to see me throughout the duration of the Ritual Mass.”

Hearing that she would be able to see me, Abigail’s small frame shook with emotion. I gently patted her back, and she managed to speak through her tears, her voice weak and filled with sorrow.

“…I’m so happy.”

Watching her cry filled me with an overwhelming sense of guilt, so intense that it felt like I couldn’t breathe.

“I thought I would never see you again after becoming a Saintess…”

“Abigail, don’t cry. I’m here now, aren’t I?”

To protect you, to ensure that you wouldn’t be tied to the stake.

“…I have no idea what’s going on. At first, they said I only needed to attend meetings, but a few days ago, they suddenly told me I had to become the Crown Princess, and I couldn’t bear it on my own.”

“…Did they really tell you to become the Crown Princess, Abigail?”

“Yes… According to the oracle, the Saintess is supposed to live as the Emperor’s supporter, isn’t she? There’s nothing that says I should become the Crown Princess or the Empress… Huuuh.”

Abigail poured out her tumultuous feelings. How did I react in the past? When they told me to become the Crown Princess, not a trace of hesitation crossed my mind…

Without any resistance, I simply went along with it, believing it to be the natural course of events.

“Abigail, what is it that you truly want to do?”

“…Right now, just staying in the palace as the Saintess is overwhelming enough. If I have to marry someone, that should be my choice alone.”

She, like me, had no desire to become the Crown Princess.

“So, you’re saying you don’t want to become the Crown Princess?”

That’s right, Abigail. You must not become the Crown Princess. If you do, Victor will soon leverage the Saintess’s influence to claim the throne as Emperor. I couldn’t stand by and watch history repeat itself.

“…But even if I don’t want to, they’ll force me to become the Crown Princess without ever letting me voice my opinion.”

The words that finally escaped her dry lips were ones that should never have been spoken according to the divine script.

“…There is a way.”

Abigail’s head, which had been hanging low in despair, slowly lifted.

“A way? What do you mean?”

“We will make a deal with the Emperor.”