Chapter 10 : Requiem Mass (3)

“…Vic.”

When I opened my eyes, I found myself on a rooftop bathed in moonlight. At my feet was a pile of laundry stacked like a mountain.

Of course, I must have fallen asleep while gathering the laundry. I crawled on my knees and picked up the laundry basket.

Suddenly, my gaze fell on the red handkerchief inside the laundry basket. Unwillingly, Victor’s eyes came to mind.

“Get a grip. It was all just a dream.”

I needed to get back to my room, but my legs were stiff and wouldn’t move. Sitting down, I spread my palms and covered my face. After silently sobbing for a while, I sensed someone approaching from the rooftop stairs.

“…I thought I heard a little sparrow crying. What on earth is going on at such a late hour?”

The moment I caught sight of the disheveled silver hair, relief surged over me.

I avoided his gaze to hide the tears glistening on my cheeks, but he hurriedly approached, helping me to my feet.

“Alicia, are you feeling unwell?” 

His voice, low and concerned, asked gently.

“You don’t seem to have a fever…”

His hand rested gently on my forehead. As I bit my lip, trying to stifle my sobs, a tear rolled down my cheek.

“I had a nightmare.”

As I wiped away my foolish tears, he calmly continued speaking.

“If it’s just a dream, then that’s a relief.”

He said it was just a dream. His indifferent consolation stirred up my emotions.

Did he perhaps notice the storm of feelings behind the forced smile? Edwin, with a sorrowful look, whispered softly.

“As a priest, I can’t even offer proper comfort… I’m sorry.”

Though he had done nothing wrong, he apologized instead. His hand, hovering awkwardly in the air, seemed pitiful.

“…In exchange, I’ll lend you my back.”

I looked at the back he offered. His pristine robe, free of any dust, and his slightly disheveled silver hair stood out clearly.

“Hnnng…”

As I sobbed quietly, tears stained his robe. He said nothing, staying silent until my tears finally ceased.

[Deverenbaum, Chapter 4, Verse 1:

A priest must not touch or take a woman’s body carelessly. However, if a woman has fallen on a steep path and cannot move forward, he may offer his back without fear of judgment.]

* * *

Three days later, the long-awaited day of the ritual arrived.

I tucked the small note securely inside my sleeve.

My steps toward the palace felt heavy, but I gave a determined nod in response to Father Edwin’s concerned gaze.

“Father, don’t worry.”

Today, I had to tell Abigail the method to improve the Emperor’s health. With the Emperor’s condition worsening by the day, there was no time to waste.

“Your Majesty, I hope you’ve been well.”

Upon arriving at the Emperor’s chamber, Father Revencio greeted the Emperor with utmost respect. A brief glance revealed that the Emperor’s face had become noticeably gaunt.

I hurriedly carried the censer and lit the altar candles. I also made sure to prepare the tea that Father Revencio would drink during the mass.

Though the preparations for the mass had been completed for some time, the most important person, the saintess, had not yet arrived.

“Let’s wait a little longer.”

Father Revencio’s lips curled into a leisurely smile. However, the benevolent smile of the clergyman quickly faded.

“The saintess has sent word that she is unwell today and will not be able to attend this ritual.”

A servant bowed his head and delivered the message, causing a vein to bulge on Father Revencio’s neck.

“Let me go and check on the saintess’s condition myself.”

Father Revencio donned the mask of a benevolent old man as he feigned concern. He left the Emperor’s chamber with heavy steps and returned in less than thirty minutes.

Following him, a figure appeared, walking unsteadily.

“…Abigail.”

She shuffled in like a broken doll, her hands clasped together as she took her place.

“Well, now that the saintess has kindly brought herself here despite her illness, let us begin the mass, though it’s a bit late.”

It was unclear whether she had come to the ritual of her own accord or if she had been forcibly dragged here by rough hands.

Her head was bowed, and her golden hair spilled forward, obscuring her face. It was impossible to discern what expression she wore.

As Abigail’s pale hand clasped the Emperor’s, the ritual began.

Her crumpled white dress, the way her head drooped like someone who had lost their mind, and the lifeless pallor of her hands… It was clear that something had happened to her, far more than just being unwell.

“The broken bone healed, and new flesh grew upon it; this was known as the miracle of Seretia,” he chanted.

As Father Revencio read from the scriptures, he seemed to grow thirsty, signaling with his left hand. I quickly brought him a cup of tea, which he drank greedily. As I moved to place the empty teacup back on the tray, I slipped a note from my sleeve. Passing by Abigail, I discreetly placed the note in her hand. The note, barely hanging from her fingertips, looked as if it might fall at any moment.

After the prayer mass concluded, Abigail once again left early. I prayed she had read the note I had given her, and with my legs still numb, I made my way to the designated meeting place.

The new location I had scouted was a terrace along the corridor leading to the guest palace. Below were stables and livestock pens, making it a place rarely visited. Being close to the guest palace, I thought it would be perfect for her to evade her attendants.

I stood at the corner of the terrace, waiting for Abigail. Even after a long time, she did not appear. Had she not seen the note? Or had she forgotten our appointment?

“Abigail, what has happened to you?”

I decided it was time to leave and stepped out of the terrace with a bitter expression, only to find Abigail standing quietly in a blind spot next to the terrace door.

“Abigail, when did you get here? I’ve been waiting inside all this time…”

“Alicia, I’m okay now. I waited to tell you this.”

As she spoke, the face hidden beneath the golden threads of her hair was revealed. Despite her words, her appearance was far from okay.

Her condition was far from good.

Had she spent the night in tears without getting a wink of sleep? I looked at her swollen eyelids, feeling pity for her.

What could have made her so anxious? Her lips, once vibrant and red, were now pale, cracked, and covered in scabs.

“Abigail, let’s talk, okay?”

I grabbed her wrist and led her to the terrace.

“What happened over the past few days?”

What could have happened in just three days that left her in such a devastated state? I gently touched her tear-streaked cheek, but she shook her head.

“…I’ve decided to become the Crown Princess.”

With just one sentence from her, it felt like my heart shattered into pieces.

“But just three days ago…”

Just three days ago, she was adamant that she didn’t want to be the Crown Princess.

“I was naive. The Crown Prince… seems like a better person than I thought. We’re not children; a marriage doesn’t have to be based on love, right?”

She spoke with resignation, her face looking as if she could collapse at any moment.

“…Abigail, are you sure this is truly your decision? You’re not being forced by Father Revencio or the Crown Prince, are you?”

“It’s entirely my decision. Maybe the Crown Prince could be like a refreshing rain in the desolate life of the palace. So, I’ll pretend I never heard about that deal you mentioned.”

Perhaps what she needed right now wasn’t the comfort of a mere nun, but someone who could hold her and share in her sorrow. Someone like the Crown Prince, who wished to make her his wife.

“Even if there’s no feeling now, maybe in time, I’ll come to love him.”

There was a bitter undertone in her voice. I didn’t know what to say to her. Even the most common words of comfort and advice felt too heavy to utter.

“Abigail, I just want you to be happy.”

I gently stroked her pale hand. For Victor to be utterly destroyed, she must not become the Crown Princess. But I couldn’t ignore her loneliness just to fulfill my own desires.

“You’re such a strange person. A nun who doesn’t even attend her consecration, who sheds tears for someone she’s only met a few times…”

A wistful smile spread across Abigail’s lips.

“I’ve written down a method that could help improve His Majesty’s condition. For me to continue helping you, His Majesty’s health needs to improve.”

“……”

“Promise me just one thing. You’ll tell His Majesty about this method. But you must never let the Empress or Father Revencio know.”

I carefully pulled out a lengthy note from my robe and placed it in her hand. It detailed the Emperor’s illness and listed herbs that might help alleviate his symptoms.

“…And whether you use this to strike a deal with the Emperor or offer it as a gesture of goodwill, that’s for you to decide, Abigail.”

***

I sat alone in the empty cathedral. The intricately crafted stained glass windows on the ceiling cast an eerie yet awe-inspiring atmosphere.

‘O Lord, why did You not embrace me in Your arms but instead sent me back to this earth?’

I asked fervently, but no answer came.

‘Did You send me to correct a mistake, or are You giving me a second trial?’

There cannot be two saints under the heavens, and in the end, one must suffer. Whether it’s Abigail, who became the saintess in my place, or Sua, who came from another world—one of them is destined to fall into ruin.

‘Did You truly send me back to this earth to dirty my hands with sin?’

If my plan succeeds, Sua, the true saintess chosen by God, will meet her death. I couldn’t fathom if this was truly what God desired when He brought me back to life.

‘Oh Lord, I don’t know what it is You want. Please grant me a revelation, show me the path I should take.’

Still, no answer came. How heartless. Very well. If You remain silent, I’ll take it that the conclusion I reach on my own is Your will.