The High Priest dropped a bomb in his gentle voice.
“What… what are you saying? That I wasn’t the one who healed him?”
“I’ve already explained it to you. With our power, there’s no way to cure the Duke’s curse. All we can do is suppress it.”
Diana’s face drained of color. The other priests had long since fallen silent, their eyes darting anxiously. From the shock on their faces, it was clear this was the first they were hearing of it.
Ries listened intently. The High Priest’s choice of the word “absolutely” snagged in his mind…
“……!”
Before he could process it, his eyes met the High Priest’s.
The man’s gaze was warm and free of malice. Yet paradoxically, that made it even more unnerving. Ries felt as if his thoughts had been laid completely bare.
And in that instant, he understood.
He knows.
He’d already found Diana’s words strange. Polite on the surface, yes, but constantly skirting the edge of recklessness.
The High Priest had heard everything and hadn’t lifted a finger to stop her. Ries had thought it indulgence, a sign of favoritism—but now he saw the truth.
He’d simply been watching. Like an audience member at a play, observing Diana’s claims, observing Justyn’s reactions…
And now he had realized exactly who had lifted the Duke’s curse.
Fortunately, their eye contact was brief, broken by Justyn stepping forward and Diana’s sudden outburst.
“No! That may be true for you, High Priest, but I’m different! Only I can do it! If not me, then who—!”
Her voice cracked, sharp with agitation.
“Enough.”
“……!”
At the faint sternness in the High Priest’s tone, she froze like a doll with broken strings.
“Diana. Do you realize how many times you’ve been discourteous here?”
“…High Priest, I…”
“If you truly want me to take back every chance I’ve given you, then by all means—continue. I won’t stop you.”
The words weren’t sharp so much as blunt, but that alone was enough. Diana, who moments ago had looked ready to argue endlessly, went dead quiet.
Ries watched in puzzlement.
The relationship between Diana and the High Priest was clearly complicated. He didn’t dote on her, yet…
That was hostility, wasn’t it?
He remembered her eyes blazing as she shouted— “I’m different,” “I can do it.” There had been an undercurrent of defiance toward the High Priest himself.
And yet, at the mention of “opportunity,” she hadn’t dared move. The leash was firmly in his hand.
But confusion quickly gave way to irritation.
If you were going to stop her, you should’ve done it sooner.
Why let such worthless words reach his master’s ears? It was infuriating.
So what if the High Priest had been waiting to assess the situation? Ries didn’t care.
The cat’s resentful glare bore into the High Priest. Feeling it, the man turned his head—and their eyes met again.
This time, the balance was different. From Ries’s keen feline eyes came a storm of complaints and reproach. The High Priest swallowed hard.
After a short pause, he offered Justyn an apology.
“My apologies, Your Grace. For allowing the banquet you prepared to be ruined.”
“It’s fine.”
Justyn brushed it off, indifferent as ever. His voice was calm, showing not a shred of annoyance.
He’d probably pay more attention to a pebble on the roadside than to this.
The High Priest gave a bitter smile. Justyn’s indifference hadn’t changed at all.
But one thing had.
His gaze shifted again to the cat nestled safely in the Duke’s arms. Unlike before, when he survived by cutting himself off from everything, now Justyn seemed to have found something worth protecting.
“No… I’m equally at fault for not stopping her. I’ll deliver my stance officially once I return to the temple.”
The High Priest bowed deeply. The priests on either side audibly gasped.
But then came the true purpose.
“And… forgive me, but I have a request. Might you grant this old man a bit of your time after the banquet?”
“……”
Justyn blinked several times, caught off guard. The High Priest added—
“You may bring the cat as well. I’ve never seen such a clever and adorable creature; my eyes keep being drawn to him.”
“Very well.”
The answer came far too quickly.
From below, Ries’s ears twitched in disbelief.
Slowly, suspicious eyes turned on his master. Justyn’s gaze had softened, noticeably so.
Don’t tell me… you gave in just because he praised your pet?
…Surely not.
Regardless of Ries’s doubts, the conversation between Justyn and the High Priest ended smoothly.
But the air afterward was anything but.
Justyn rarely spoke. The High Priest, given his age, seldom initiated conversation.
The three nervous priests looked on the verge of collapse. Diana, once the most vocal, hadn’t uttered a word since being rebuked by both Justyn and the High Priest.
“……”
Her clenched fists trembled. Her nails dug into her palms until blood welled beneath them, and still she pressed harder.
At last, the blood broke skin and traced a slow line down.
The suffocating silence, the accusing stares weighing on her face—it was as though they mocked her failure again and again.
This was her nightmare.
***
The banquet ended in an unbearably awkward atmosphere.
If not for the cat, I’d have run.
To dine in such a place? Impossible.
Ries thought of the three others who must have felt the same. By the end, their faces had gone so pale they could’ve been mistaken for ghosts. Surely, they were all miserably indigested.
And naturally, Diana’s face came to mind as well.
Her expression had been just as lifeless. Ries still didn’t know her true motives, but whatever they were, she had failed spectacularly.
A shame I couldn’t swat her at least once…
But with the atmosphere as it was, there had been no chance to raise a paw. Next time, he vowed, he would.
That, however, was for later. For now, his focus had to be on the High Priest.
Justyn had kept his word, bringing Greus to his office after the banquet.
“Thank you.”
He pushed a teacup toward him, already prepared by a servant. Steam curled softly from the pale brew.
The night sky outside was as silent as the banquet hall they had left behind. The High Priest gazed out for a moment, as if counting the stars scattered across the heavens.
He’d heard the weather here was fickle, but tonight the sky was flawless, without a single cloud.
…What struck him more, however—
His aged eyes swept the office. The stately desk, the neatly stacked documents, the shelves crammed with books—all fitting for a workspace.
But alongside them were countless things that didn’t fit.
Boxes full of colorful toys, a glittering fishing rod propped in a corner, cushions and blankets embroidered with cute patterns, even a fish-shaped plush sprawled across the bed.
The High Priest took in each one before murmuring—
“It’s a warm place.”
“……”
Justyn didn’t answer, but his eyes softened again. Clearly, the compliment pleased him.
The High Priest went on.
“I must apologize once more.”
“I’ve already accepted your apology.”
“No. This is for the offense Priestess Diana committed. She is under my charge, and so her mistake is also mine.”
Both Justyn and Ries looked at him. His expression grew distant, as if recalling the past.
“Diana is a gifted priestess with divine power nearly equal to mine. But deep inside, she carries a wound. Before she was taken in by the temple, she suffered great deprivation as a child—and she’s never let it go.”
“……”
“I’m not trying to excuse her. But considering her years of dedication to healing, I ask only that you not hate her too deeply.”
He paused to sip the tea. The silence that followed was as bitter as its faint aroma.
“…This is also why the seat of High Priest isn’t given simply to whoever has the most divine power. The amount one holds is no proof of the god’s love. I too am the same. Though I wield great power, I am neither wholly virtuous nor perfect…”
His voice carried the weight of regret.
Then his eyes shifted, fixing directly on Justyn.
“Do you remember when we first met?”
His gloved hand traced the rim of his teacup. Justyn dredged up memories of a childhood he preferred to forget.
He vaguely recalled a younger, less wrinkled face. That was all.
“…I don’t remember.”
He couldn’t recall how old he’d been, why they’d met, or what they’d spoken of. Not even the look in the High Priest’s eyes.
Greus smiled faintly, as if expecting that.
“Your Grace, I’m glad to see you finally have something precious to you.”
Their gazes fell together toward Justyn’s lap. Ries jolted.
He had been listening quietly, and suddenly all eyes were on him. Should he bolt? He’d sat on Justyn’s lap long enough that it wouldn’t be ungrateful to leave now.
He was judging the distance to the bed when—
“If it’s not an imposition… may I examine your hand, Duke?”
Ah—he meant the bare hand. The High Priest added calmly.
It wasn’t something that could be ignored. Ries tucked away his urge to flee and settled back down firmly on Justyn’s thigh.
