The Mask Slips
Seong Yu-da headed to his study, leaving only Seong Ha-yeon and Do Seon-woo in the drawing room. Seong Ha-yeon took a sip of the tea she hadn't been able to touch while gauging the mood between the two men. Even though it had cooled, the exceptional quality kept the flavor and aroma intact.
Glancing at Do Seon-woo as she drank, Seong Ha-yeon noticed him lost in thought.
"You speak more eloquently than I expected."
It wasn't just idle chatter to break the silence. Even she often found herself tongue-tied in front of Seong Yu-da. Yet Do Seon-woo hadn't faltered at all, speaking fluidly without a hint of intimidation. It had genuinely surprised her.
Do Seon-woo didn't respond for a long moment after her question. He simply stared at her with vacant eyes. A chill ran down Seong Ha-yeon's spine at the coldness in his gaze.
He finally lowered his eyes and spoke.
"I've prepared a lot."
"...What kind of preparation?"
"Wrote a script, practiced in front of a doll, mumbling to myself."
Do Seon-woo said with a faint smile. Seong Ha-yeon listened seriously at first, then realized it was a joke. Imagining him chattering away to a doll made her want to dismiss it as absurd, but she couldn't help laughing.
"Pfft, you have a doll at home too?"
"Yeah. A bunny one about your size."
"That sounds cute."
"Yeah, that's why I hug it when I sleep."
Seong Ha-yeon burst out laughing, unable to hold back.
"Ah, stop saying ridiculous things."
"It's true, though?"
"Then I can spread the rumor? 'Do Seon-woo hugs a bunny doll to sleep.' Like that."
"Huh? No, that's not okay."
Watching him pretend to panic, Seong Ha-yeon laughed again. He delivered nonsense with such a straight face that even unfunny lines cracked her up. He'd always seemed prickly and aloof, so this sudden lightness felt absurdly amusing.
Still smiling, she spoke up.
"Come to think of it, we had that bet on our exam scores, right?"
"Yeah."
"I'm curious about the results. I think I won, though."
"Where's that confidence coming from?"
"I did pretty well on the practicals. How about you?"
"I did pretty... well, decently."
"Not confident?"
"...I did well. Better than you."
Do Seon-woo replied a bit curtly, as if his pride was wounded. Seong Ha-yeon laughed again at the sight.
As she laughed, she suddenly realized how comfortable she felt. She'd never had anyone she could chat with this easily before. Kim Ra-hee from her class had been the closest, but even that felt awkward now. She didn't want to bother talking to the others—they just irritated her with their obvious posturing and pretense.
"If—and I mean if—you actually win, what wish would you ask for?"
"Didn't you just say you think you'll win?"
"That's why I said 'if.'"
"Hm..."
Do Seon-woo was different from the others. He had a bit of bravado, sure, but no pretense, which made conversations with him pleasant. Still, her feeling this ease was probably because he bore the Purifying Blood. His clean looks, his oddly quirky yet appealing personality, his intellect that had lightly claimed first place in diagnostics—all secondary to the simple fact of his bloodline drawing her in.
If he didn't have the Purifying Blood, I wouldn't even glance at someone like Do Seon-woo, she told herself firmly.
"I'd probably just ask you to buy me a meal."
"Aw, just one meal?"
"It's not 'just' anything. With something like this, who you eat it with matters most."
"Huh? What do you...?"
"You? What would you ask for if you win?"
"...Ah. M-me?"
Seong Ha-yeon stammered, flustered by his words. "Who you eat it with matters" carried loaded implications open to interpretation. Her cheeks burned, but the moment to ask what he meant had passed.
Rubbing her palms against her flushed cheeks to cool them, she replied.
"...I haven't thought about it yet. I'll decide if I win."
"Can't give you money or anything like that."
"Why not? You said you'd grant any wish."
"No money. But I could pay with my body."
"...What kind of talk is that? I wouldn't even ask for something like that!"
Seong Ha-yeon snapped, her mind jumping to weird places. Do Seon-woo just shrugged innocently.
"What do you mean by 'something like that'?"
"Never mind. Really..."
She sighed deeply. The heat she'd just quelled flared up again.
A brief silence fell. Seong Ha-yeon waited for him to speak first, but he just sat quietly, deep in thought.
"Seong Ha-yeon."
He suddenly lifted his head, breaking the quiet. Before she could respond, he continued.
"After I leave, your father might say something strange."
"...Pardon?"
"No matter what he says, don't believe him."
His face was deadly serious as he spoke. The clear, innocent gaze he fixed on her seemed incapable of deceit.
Caught off guard by the abrupt statement and intense eye contact, Seong Ha-yeon bit her lip and hurriedly looked away.
"What... does that mean?"
Blinking, she pressed him. Do Seon-woo's eyes grew slightly moist, tinged with sadness.
"Your father doesn't seem to like me much."
"Pardon? That can't be... From what I saw—"
Click.
The door opened then. Seong Yu-da entered the drawing room, arms full of books and a stack of documents.
Thud.
He set them on the table. Selecting one book, he flipped it open, skimmed it quickly, and handed it to Do Seon-woo. Seong Ha-yeon recognized it—she'd tried reading it once, but the foreign languages and archaic terms made it tough, and its thickness had defeated her.
"A history of the Romanica Church. It should help you understand the church as it stands today."
"I've never seen a book like this in the school library... Is it a forbidden text too?"
Seong Yu-da's expression hardened slightly at Do Seon-woo's words.
"Not forbidden. Just not available through normal channels. I'll lend it to you."
"Thank you. You didn't have to go this far..."
"The other books and documents—I can explain them directly as we discuss. Put that one aside for now and look at this document—"
Seong Yu-da began explaining. Do Seon-woo leaned forward attentively, listening closely. But Seong Ha-yeon couldn't follow their conversation at all.
Not because she didn't understand—it was challenging, but focusable. The problem was Seong Yu-da's advice mostly applied to holy knights, holding little relevance for her priestly aspirations.
More than that, Do Seon-woo's parting words echoed relentlessly in her mind.
'No matter what he says, don't believe him.'
She pondered its meaning, unable to concentrate.
"...That should suffice for now. More would keep us up all night."
"Understood. Thank you—it was a great help."
"Any more questions?"
"Nothing else on what you've covered. So, next—I'd like to ask about the Conclave..."
Do Seon-woo paused, falling silent. That silence finally pulled Seong Ha-yeon, lost in her thoughts, back to the conversation.
He dropped his gaze briefly, then fixed Seong Yu-da with a sharp look.
"I want to know the purpose of the Conclave. Specifically, its political role."
"..."
Seong Yu-da's face stiffened instantly. The warm atmosphere froze over.
He stared at Do Seon-woo silently, then closed and opened his eyes before speaking.
"That's difficult to answer. As a student, you know the Conclave is the 'secret' meeting for papal elections."
"Yes, I know."
"I've been out of the cardinal position for some time. I don't know the details myself."
"I understand the Purification Clan can participate in the Conclave regardless of church politics. By the 'Covenant.'"
"...No, I can't discuss it. Even if I knew."
Seong Yu-da stated firmly. His jaw clenched visibly.
He glared at Do Seon-woo with intense eyes. Soon, those eyes wavered. Do Seon-woo, however, stared back without a flicker of unease.
Seong Ha-yeon glanced between them. Both wore grave expressions. For some reason, the mood had turned hostile in an instant.
With a trembling finger, Seong Yu-da pointed at Do Seon-woo's left hand.
"Where did you get that ring?"
"This one?"
Do Seon-woo casually raised his left hand, showing the ring, and continued nonchalantly.
"Bought it from a peddler recently. I wear it sometimes because it's pretty."
"...Be cautious with items of unclear origin. They could be heretic goods."
Seong Yu-da's voice trembled slightly.
Do Seon-woo chuckled softly.
"Then I shouldn't have worn it today."
As he said it, he lifted his teacup for a sip.
Crash!
His hand slipped as he set it down, and the cup shattered on the floor with a loud clang. Shards scattered everywhere.
Seong Ha-yeon flinched in surprise. But Do Seon-woo remained calm—he should have been the startled one.
He glanced at the debris, then slowly bowed his head.
"Sorry. I must've been nervous—my hand slipped. I'll clean it up."
"No! ...No, it's fine. I'll call a servant later."
"Ah, then... I'm really sorry. I'll compensate you."
"No need. We have plenty of teacups. It's not valuable."
Seong Yu-da smiled as he spoke. Seong Ha-yeon found it odd. The cup Do Seon-woo broke wasn't cheap—by her knowledge, it cost hundreds or thousands.
Strange. Do Seon-woo was brazen when he should apologize profusely, and Seong Yu-da unnaturally indulgent when anger seemed warranted. Their reactions defied common sense.
Do Seon-woo gazed at Seong Yu-da with hollow, lifeless eyes.
"One last question?"
Without waiting for a reply, he pressed on.
"Who is your preferred candidate, Cardinal Seong Yu-da?"
"...It's late. You should head back."
Do Seon-woo smiled and nodded instead of answering.
Seong Ha-yeon initially meant to see him to the gate, but Seong Yu-da stopped her. He summoned a servant to escort Do Seon-woo out.
Through the window, they watched him leave the mansion. Only when he was fully gone...
"Hah, huff... heuk...!"
Seong Yu-da leaned on the table, breathing raggedly. Cold sweat poured from his brow like rain.
He rose and gripped Seong Ha-yeon's shoulders roughly. She trembled at her father's sudden behavior, bewildered.
"Ha-yeon, listen carefully. You must listen."
No—terrified.
Seong Yu-da's smile had been a facade for the guest. The moment Do Seon-woo left, it vanished like a shed mask, replaced by icy impassivity.
But even that wasn't his true face. Layers of masks, donned, doffed, swapped as needed—facing him always felt impossible.
"That boy isn't Purification Blood. Never get close, never talk to him—stay away if possible."
"..."
"I can't explain why right now, but absolutely... don't get near him. Remember that, Ha-yeon. Ha-yeon..."
Yet this was an expression she'd never seen on her father's face. A mask fully stripped away, his raw visage.
It was uglier than she'd imagined, filling her with dread.
'Your father doesn't seem to like me much.'
Do Seon-woo's words suddenly resurfaced.
(To be continued in the next chapter)