Chapter 10 : Requiem Mass (7)

“Alicia!”

A large hand broke through the water, grabbing my wrist roughly. In an instant, I was pulled back to the surface.

“Alicia! Wake up!”

Edwin’s voice echoed in my ears, muffled by the water. Father, don’t worry. I just wanted to rest for a moment.

I wanted to tell him this, but my lips wouldn’t move. It wasn’t just my lips—my entire body felt disconnected, as if the nerves had been severed.

“…Oh God, have mercy on your child, and please forgive the sins I have committed.”

Father Edwin suddenly began to pray for forgiveness. It didn’t take long for me to understand the nature of his sin.

A foreign warmth touched my numb lips, and soon, I realized what that sensation was—it was his lips.

His long breath flowed down my throat. Again, another breath, reaching every corner deep within me.

Gradually, my breath returned. As the lost sensation came back, the first thing I noticed was the pounding of my heart, as if it would burst.

“Ugh, keck! Cough!”

Water kept pouring from my mouth, no matter how much I gagged and spit it out, it wouldn’t stop.

“Gah, ugh!”

“Sister Alicia, are you coming to your senses?”

Through my trembling eyelids, I saw the face of the silver-haired man. His large hand touched my cheek.

As if his touch was salvation itself, my entire body craved his warmth desperately.

But I couldn’t easily reach out to him, haunted by a verse from the scriptures that echoed in my mind.

“…As a priest, do not touch or take a woman’s body for your own.”

I recited the verse with a foggy mind, and Father Edwin’s eyes narrowed, his gaze intense.

“Yet if a woman falls on a steep path and cannot move forward, then you may offer your back willingly. No sin shall be accounted for,” his gentle voice resonated, causing my eyes to well up with tears.

“…Father, I’ve ruined everything,”

I confessed, like a child seeking comfort in his embrace. With a voice thick with sorrow, I began my confession.

“It’s all my fault.”

“…What could you have done wrong?”

“I knew there was a way to save everyone. I should have become the Saint again and willingly gone to the stake.”

It was the natural order set by God—a way that would harm no one, cause no suffering, an absolute path. I only needed to live, suppressing my emotions within this repeating fate.

“And yet, I tried to use innocent Abigail to selfishly extend my life…”

“Alicia.”

“If I become the Saint again, if I set things right before it’s too late…”

“Licia!”

Father Edwin gripped my chin firmly, forcing me to meet his gaze. He was so close that I could feel his breath on my face. His golden eyes were pure, without a trace of impurity.

“We cannot turn back now. If you lie here, as you said, all you’ll do is watch as she’s used and left to die miserably. Is that what you want?”

His words pierced me like a dagger, leaving an ache as if a hole had been carved in the center of my heart.

“…Father, then what should I do?”

I asked, my voice trembling with uncertainty.

“To protect the Saint, you may have to borrow her hands and her voice. You might have to commit some sins together.”

His words caused my eyes to widen in shock.

“…So, I will willingly share in your sin,” he declared.

To hear such words from a priest—words of sin—was beyond anything I could have imagined.

Father Edwin extended his hand toward me. I stared at it for a moment before gently placing my own in his. The warmth, the simple touch of our hands… It filled me with feelings that I knew were impure, yet I couldn’t pull away.

“…I will bear the burden of your sins,” he said, breaking his vow as a priest. In that moment, he fell from his position as one closest to God, descending into sin.

‘Derenbahm, Chapter 4, Verse 2:

Do not harbor sinful desires in your heart and take a woman’s body. If your hand causes you to sin, cut it off willingly and cast it away. If not, the body of the priest who commits this sin will burn as the wick in the fires of hell.‘

***

I glanced down at the potted plant on my desk. I had thought the flower would bloom by now, but it still seemed shy, its bud tightly closed. I carefully placed a kiss on the bud and prepared to leave.

“…If you’re ready, we should head out soon,” said Father Edwin, standing at the door with Father Daniel.

“Yes, Father. I’m coming right now,”

Just as Father Edwin had said, in order to protect the Saint, I would have to use her. It was a necessary evil. The burning guilt still lingered, but I had decided to grow accustomed to it, little by little.

The emperor’s condition seemed to be improving. His once dull complexion now showed signs of vitality. Yet, not everyone was pleased with this development. Father Revencio, in particular, looked displeased as he watched the emperor.

“Your Majesty looks much better than he did just three days ago,” Father Revencio commented, though his face betrayed his true feelings. 

It was clear that the emperor’s recovery did not align with his plans. He had likely hoped to see the old emperor deteriorate swiftly so he could install the puppet crown prince on the throne and manipulate the empire from behind the scenes.

“This is all thanks to the Saint.”

As soon as the emperor finished speaking, the door to his chamber opened, and Saint Abigail entered with a regal stride.

“To think that a disease the royal physicians couldn’t cure is now being treated by the Saint’s divine power! How could I not be moved?”

The emperor’s voice was filled with awe and gratitude.

Father Revencio’s eyebrows twitched at the emperor’s words. He had personally chosen Abigail as the Saint, solely based on her appearance. The idea that she possessed any genuine divine power was highly suspect to him.

“…You flatter me, Your Majesty. I am merely a vessel for conveying the will of the gods,”

Abigail responded calmly, as if her contributions were of little consequence.

“This was an incurable disease, one that no remedy could heal, and yet, under the Saint’s care, I finally feel as though I am healing,” the emperor continued.

It was clear that Abigail couldn’t completely cure the emperor’s illness overnight, but the signs of recovery were undeniable, however slight.

“…It is indeed a sacred and mysterious event,”

Father Revencio remarked, his lips curling into a faint, almost sinister smile.

Throughout the mass, Abigail didn’t spare a single glance in my direction. Her resolute demeanor seemed to communicate that she had no intention of meeting with me again. 

Yet, despite her cold demeanor, I couldn’t shake the hope that she might be waiting for me. Driven by that hope, I made my way to our agreed meeting place.

I stood alone on the terrace, waiting for Abigail, staring endlessly at the stubbornly closed door.

“…How foolish,” I muttered to myself.

After causing her so much pain without hesitation, what good would it do to wait for her now? Yes, it’s time to leave. I should return to the monastery and regroup with Father Edwin to plan our next steps.

Just as I placed my hand on the door handle, the door on the opposite side of the terrace slowly opened.

“Weren’t you waiting to talk to me? Why are you leaving so soon?” Abigail’s voice reached me.

“…Abigail, I thought after my mistake, you’d never come to see me again.”

“I came because I have something I need to ask you,” she replied.

She had something to ask me? I looked up at her face. The cool breeze played with her golden hair, making it dance softly.

“Alicia Sossillion,” she said, and my name felt unfamiliar on her lips.

“Why did the daughter of a duke become a nun and come to the palace?” 

The carefully built sandcastle crumbled. I tried to gather the shattered pieces of my heart as I responded.

“…Where did you hear that I’m the daughter of a duke?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly.

“You’re not denying it, I see,” Abigail responded with a bitter smile.

“I wrote to my father,”

“I told him how moved I was by the nun who shed tears on my behalf.”

Of course. I recalled meeting Count Miller not too long ago. He must have told her about me.

“In his reply, he mentioned you. He said that you and I are cousins and that you became a nun to avoid being called by the oracle. After reading that letter, I couldn’t stop thinking…”

“Abigail…”

“You comforted me on the terrace at the ball and gave me hope at the central temple. I wanted to believe that the tears you shed were genuine, so I searched for every nun named Alicia over the past two days.”

A short sigh escaped her lips as she finished speaking.

“…But there’s only one nun named Alicia. Now, tell me the truth. You knew who I was from the beginning, didn’t you?”

Abigail… What should I say to you? Should I admit that I knew you all along? Or should I reveal the painful truth of my past?

“Lady, I’m not as naive as you think. So please, tell me the truth.”

Abigail addressed me as “Lady,” and with that single word, it felt as though my nun’s habit had been stripped away, leaving me bare.

Finally, I parted my tightly sealed lips.

“I knew.”

I knew who would take my place as the sacrificial Saint. I knew whose neck I would have to place the blade against to protect the Saint. I knew what words I needed to use to manipulate you for that purpose.

“I knew everything.”