The One Who Stays by Your Side in the Hardest Times #3
It had already been a little over a month since Emil had taken on the role of Leni’s priest.
Emil had asked Pidea several times whether there was any way to cure Leni’s curse, and each time she had answered with the same indifferent tone.
“That’s the same answer I heard before. It’s already been a month. I’m sick of your damn word games.”
Today the words had slipped out harsher than he intended.
Pidea answered as if the whole thing bored her.
“What? If a complete cure is impossible, then what exactly is this ‘treatment’ of yours supposed to fix?”
Pidea ran her tongue across her lips before speaking.
“All of them? The more you talk, the less sense you make. You just said a complete cure is impossible.”
Pidea laughed mockingly.
Emil did not answer.
Not because the words stung, but because they were true.
Right now, for some reason, he felt sympathy for Leni and wanted to help her, but that was only because becoming her exclusive priest would advance his position. If his own safety ever clashed with caring for her… there was no question. Emil would choose himself.
“Anyway, there is a method. Just tell me. The rest isn’t your concern.”
Pidea explained the method of treating the curse step by step. Some parts made him frown, but overall it was simpler than he had expected.
“It’s simpler than I thought.”
When he spoke his honest impression, Pidea snorted.
“What?”
When he opened the firmly locked door, he found a girl standing there shivering, wearing nothing but a single white chemise.
“My lady… how long have you been here?”
“Since an hour ago. I knocked, but there was no answer, so I kept waiting.”
An hour ago, Emil had definitely been… spending intimate time inside Cately’s bedchamber.
Damn it. Who would have thought she would come at this hour? It was the middle of the night.
Emil sighed.
“Good heavens, you should have gone to sleep and come back tomorrow.”
Leni shook her head.
“I don’t want to sleep. I have dreams if I do. So I just waited.”
“…I see.”
It was exactly as Pidea had said.
The twisted demonic energy brought headaches and nightmares with it.
Now that she could no longer pour the curse onto a new priest, her symptoms must have grown even worse.
When he glanced at Leni after hearing that, he could see the faint traces of tears around her eyes.
‘Nightmares bad enough to make her afraid of sleep.’
He knew that kind of dream all too well.
That was why the girl looked even more pitiable.
“Truly…”
Leni hesitated.
“Can you really make me better, Father?”
What should he say?
Pidea had told him he could not completely cure the curse. The bloodline curse was overwhelmingly powerful, she had said.
Raising her hopes only to disappoint her would be cruel.
But.
“Yes, I can.”
In this moment, he simply could not bring himself to tell this child that he could not.
The moment those words left his lips, it would feel as if he were proving himself a worthless human being.
“Trust me, my lady.”
So he had no choice but to say it.
Leni nodded as though she had made up her mind, then slowly opened her mouth.
“I’ll trust you, Father. What do I have to do?”
What did she have to do, indeed.
“Are you willing to do anything?”
“I’ll do anything.”
The girl’s small eyes stared straight into his. Damn it, please don’t look at me with those eyes.
“It will be difficult.”
“I don’t care. I’m not scared.”
Leni nodded.
It was an awkward, clumsy nod that looked less determined than heartbreaking, yet Emil accepted it.
“Very well. Please come inside first. And from now on, if I am not here, curse at me once and then return to your room to rest. The cold air in the corridor is harsh enough to trouble you.”
Although Iredain lay in the warm southern part of the continent, now that November had arrived the chill had begun to seep even into the holy building.
Emil added more firewood to the hearth and stirred the embers with a poker.
The dying flames roared back to life.
“Are you a little warmer now?”
“…Yes.”
“Good. Then let us begin at once.”
Emil held out a small cup.
Leni took it without thinking.
“This is…”
“It is holy water. Water blessed with salt and made sacred. Salt symbolizes the unchanging covenant between God and man, so it has the power to drive out curses.”
Leni’s face darkened.
She shook her head.
“Father. Holy water is useless. This…”
“—You have already tried it, I take it? It is the first solution the priests would have attempted. It must have felt as though you were burning alive, yet brought no improvement.”
Leni pressed her lips tightly together and looked at him.
Emil nodded.
“Yes, it will be extremely painful. And you will have to endure that pain each time. If you cannot bear it, tell me so. But if you still wish to be cured… then trust me.”
He gave her a gentle smile.
“Do you trust me, my lady?”
“…I trust you.”
Leni nodded slowly.
“I will trust you.”
She took the cup from his hand and drank it down in one gulp.
“Ugh…!”
A groan of pain escaped her as she tilted the cup.
He had to admire her endurance.
Even though the curse would be washed away in an instant, the sensation would still feel like burning alive.
When she had emptied the cup, Emil stroked her hair and praised her.
“Well done.”
“You don’t have to praise me for every little thing…”
Though Leni answered grumpily, she now sat quietly with a docile attitude.
“Then please lift your skirt.”
The moment he said it, her expressionless face flushed crimson.
“Father…”
“It is necessary. Please do as I ask.”
Leni glared at him for a moment.
But soon she hesitantly lifted the hem of her skirt.
He could not tell whether she was ashamed of showing her legs or ashamed of showing the curse. Perhaps both.
When the skirt rose, what lay beneath was revealed.
The scar on her ankle—the mark of the curse—pulsed as though alive, the black color repeatedly darkening and fading, flaunting its presence.
“Good. The curse is reacting clearly. Please sit on the bed.”
Leni perched on the edge of the bed.
Somewhere, the sound of someone swallowing could be heard.
“The holy water should have broken down the condensed curse. Now all that remains is to draw out this demonic energy. So, my lady… forgive me.”
The reason he explained so carefully was because he knew the act he was about to perform would embarrass her.
Emil knelt and gently lifted Leni’s foot. Then he pressed his lips to the scarred ankle.
“Ah…!”
When he looked up, she was staring down at him with her lips bitten tightly. He had worried she might kick him, but fortunately she did not.
It could not be helped. This was part of the treatment.
“Mmm…”
A sweet taste rose from Leni’s ankle.
It was a strange sentence, yet it was true. From the place his lips touched, the demonic energy began to flow into him.
“Ugh, ah… Father?”
Pidea had said that inside Emil was a vast, empty space.
The body that should have been filled with the enormous power of the demon named Pidea was now vacant, its owner lost.
Therefore, if even a weak power such as a curse connected to Emil, it would immediately drain away through the great hole that was him.
That was the treatment method Pidea had proposed.
‘It’s so sweet it makes my head ache.’
Something like sweet honey flowed across his tongue. The intensity was so strong he wanted to taste it again and again.
So he kept tasting it, licking it with his tongue, kissing it, unable to stop.
“Ugh… ugh, Father. Stop, stop it!”
In the end Leni, unable to endure any longer, pushed Emil away.
When he looked at her ankle in his dazed state, the scar had almost completely faded.
Leni came to her senses and stammered in embarrassment, struggling for an excuse.
“Ah, I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Father. But something surged up inside me… I just couldn’t bear it.”
“No, it’s all right… my lady.”
He was a little flustered, but this too was within the range of events Pidea had warned him about.
She had said there could be a rejection response while drawing out the curse, so they should proceed slowly.
The sweet, rich taste still lingered in his mouth. Emil savored the sensation.
“Let us stop here for today. This alone should have removed your stench. Isn’t that right?”
“I don’t know… I can’t smell my own scent very well.”
Emil shrugged.
“Since my nose no longer detects any sweet fragrance, I believe it must be gone. Go and sleep now. You will not have nightmares tonight.”
“All right…”
Though Leni looked half-doubtful, she soon bowed her head in greeting and left the room.
“Then I wish you a pleasant night, my lovely Lady Leni.”
At his farewell, Leni whipped her head around and returned to her room without answering.
Emil chuckled softly and closed the door.
He idly prodded the firewood with the poker once more before lying down on the bed.
“Yeah…”
Exhaustion had piled up as usual, so he answered half-heartedly, lay down, and sleep claimed him at once.
Just before he fell asleep, it seemed Pidea muttered something, but he could not hear it clearly.
“Ugh…”
Emil woke with a groan.
His eyes were open, yet he could see nothing.
It seemed a sack had been pulled over his head.
Sensation gradually returned to his body.
He was tied to what felt like a chair, his legs bound as well.
In front of him he could sense the presence of people.
Multiple—at least three or more?
In this incomprehensible situation, he was not surprised.
Rather, he felt utterly calm.
Because this was a development he had already anticipated.
‘A little late, though…’
“Good evening.”
When Emil greeted them calmly from inside the sack, he felt the person before him flinch.
‘They’re surprised. My reaction has thrown them off.’
Emil had predicted their reaction.
They had not predicted his.
Though his limbs were bound and a sack covered his head, he was certain he held the upper hand in this conversation.
“I must apologize for being unable to rise and greet you properly. Lord Alon. What brings you here today? Does it concern Princess Leni?”
There was a sudden scraping sound as the other party shot to their feet.
Agitation seemed to spread to those around him as well. Emil felt a small satisfaction at that.
‘That makes two steps—no, three.’