Episode 53

The chapel was silent after the evening service had ended.

Kyle sat in the front pew, waiting for Rosanna. Her letter hadn’t explained why they needed to meet at this time and place, nor what she wanted to discuss. The uncertainty made him nervous. Every minute stretched unbearably long.

At last, the chapel doors opened, and Rosanna entered. Kyle turned at the sound of footsteps and rose to his feet.

“Am I late?”

“No, I was already here since I attended the service.”

She approached him with light, almost soundless steps, like something out of a dream. The effect was heightened by the dress she wore—a chiffon and linen ensemble that reflected the season. It draped over her like layered, translucent wings, its airy fabric shifting with her movements. It was delicate to the point of being tantalizing, as if it might reveal too much at any moment.

A woman who arrived with summer itself—Rosanna took Kyle’s hands in hers.

“Sit down.”

As soon as she settled onto the pew, she pulled him down beside her. True to her nature, she wasted no time getting to the point.

“Aren’t you curious about why I called you here?”

Kyle nodded slightly.

“Before that, I have something to say as well.”

His ash-gray eyes, brimming with both shyness and excitement, gleamed even in the dim light.

“I’ve been approved for ordination as a deacon. I still feel unworthy… but I can’t deny that I’m happy. I guess I must have been looking forward to it more than I realized.”

“…What?”

Rosanna’s pupils dilated as she snapped back in a tone sharper than usual. Her irises, already an unnatural shade of blue, seemed to burn even brighter. But Kyle didn’t notice the change.

“You said you were going to quit. Why would you be excited?”

“This is the result of years of training at the seminary. Even if I don’t take this path, it’s still an achievement worth celebrating.”

“But you’re quitting in the end, right?”

Something felt… wrong.

The way she was looking at him—it wasn’t the usual affectionate gaze she had always given him.

Since morning, Kyle had been anticipating this moment. He had been eager to share his good news, thinking about how to tell her. After all, this was the greatest accomplishment of his life—he had hoped Rosanna would be happy for him, that she would celebrate with him.

But Rosanna didn’t care. Not even a little.

With a single dismissive remark, she erased everything Kyle had worked for. To her, his years of dedication, his struggles, his sacrifices—none of it held any value.

Kyle loved Ingdberry Parish. Every person, every institution, every memory connected to it was precious to him. And more than anything, he had always craved recognition. Being ordained meant that his beloved parish had chosen him—that he was worthy.

So he had wanted Rosanna to understand what this meant to him. To realize what he was giving up.

“I will quit, but… what do you think? About me qualifying for ordination?”

“I don’t like it. It makes you second-guess yourself. That’s just how people are, right? Even when they throw something away, they regret it later. Once you let go, it should be final. I don’t get why you’d feel otherwise.”

Kyle clenched his hands together on his lap. His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“No one knows what the future holds. I might return to the clergy one day. Bishop Johann even said he’d welcome me back as an administrative staff member if I ever reconsider. He’s a truly kind man.”

Rosanna’s face hardened.

He still wanted a way back? And that old fool was encouraging him?

Bishop Johann. She had warned him once already. And yet, here he was, getting in the way again. Should she have him reassigned to another diocese? Far away, somewhere he wouldn’t be a nuisance?

Kyle needed to understand something—there was no going back. He was hers. There would be no escaping from her side.

“There won’t be a ‘returning.’ That’s what I brought you here to say.”

Their eyes met.

“After your graduation, you’re going to live at my townhouse. I’ll have workers move your belongings from the dormitory, so you only need to bring yourself.”

“We already talked about this before. I told you I—”

“No, no, no. All you ever say is ‘no,’ Kyle.”

The weight in Rosanna’s voice carried through the air, thick and low from her irritation.

She had waited long enough. She had been patient, gentle—trying not to scare off the big, soft-hearted fool. But that was over. For the sake of an ideal relationship, sometimes a firm hand was necessary. And now was that time.

A passage from a book she had recently read surfaced in her mind.

Control is necessary, so long as it does not cross the line.

In this moment, she was the one in control. And Kyle was the one to be subdued.

“I’ve indulged you for too long. I’ve held back and treated you with care. But how much longer am I supposed to wait?”

“…What do you mean—”

“You say you like me. Then why do you keep pushing me away? What are you struggling so hard to resist?”

She shifted toward him, curling a finger around his Roman collar and tugging. A choked sound escaped his lips as he was pulled downward. His eyes, wide with alarm, were now looking up at her.

“Be honest with yourself. Act on your desires. What do you want most right now?”

Her fingers slid beneath his collar, brushing against his skin, teasing. Their lips hovered just shy of touching as she whispered,

“You want me.”

Kyle froze.

“At the very least, your body does.”

He shut his eyes, refusing to acknowledge the heat in her words. Instead, he grabbed her wrist, stopping her fingers before they could do more damage. Just a moment later, and his body might have betrayed him.

“This is a chapel. This is wrong.”

“There it is again—‘no.’ You know, I’ve never been rejected before. And yet, you’ve denied me over and over again. I’ve been so patient.”

“This isn’t rejection, it’s—”

“I’m done waiting.”

With that, Rosanna seized his shoulders and pushed him down.

Kyle resisted, trying to keep himself upright, but in the end, he was no match for her. Overwhelmed by the sudden force of her body pressing against him, he was overpowered in an instant.

Rosanna straddled him, one long leg draped over the pew as she pinned him down. For a moment, she simply looked down at him. Ah, the thrill of the hunt—she had almost forgotten what it felt like. A shiver ran through her, the intoxicating pleasure of cornering her prey.

Kyle, lying beneath her, was beautiful. His flushed face, the tension in his muscles, the way his breath hitched—it made her want to lick him all over, to sink her teeth into his neck and leave a mark. To brand him as hers, so that no one else would dare lay claim.

The need to hide her true nature had faded entirely. If anything, it was the secrecy that had stalled their relationship. If he had known from the start—if he had realized what she was, how superior she was—then they wouldn’t have been stuck in this slow, tedious dance. He would have felt honored to be chosen, to be claimed. He would have offered himself willingly.

“I can’t see that handsome face of yours clearly.”

With a snap of her fingers, the candles on the altar and along the chapel’s recesses flickered to life.

Kyle’s eyes went wide. It wasn’t just the sudden burst of flames that shocked him—it was Rosanna’s eyes.

Those crimson irises.

A deep, flickering red, like blood swirling in candlelight.

The same eyes he had seen in that dream. That dream. The one that had haunted him since that night of his first nocturnal release.

His nape prickled with a cold shudder.

Was this… fear?

Before he could react, Rosanna leaned in, pressing one hand against his chest and cupping his cheek with the other.

“You’re distracted. When I’m right in front of you.”

“Y-Your eyes… they’re red. It could be an illness—you need to see a doctor right away.”

Rosanna’s hand slid from his cheek to his throat. The moment Kyle tried to rise, she pressed down, holding him in place with just a single hand.

His head, which had barely lifted, hit the wooden pew with a dull thud. A soft groan escaped him.

“There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m perfectly fine.”

She smiled.

Before his eyes, her irises shimmered—fluctuating between colors, shifting like a gemstone under different angles of light. One moment, they gleamed like rubies. Then, they softened into the violet of amethyst, before slowly cooling back to their original aquamarine hue.

Kyle couldn’t blink. He stared, mesmerized by the impossible sight before him.

“Am I seeing things? How can a person’s eyes…?”

Rosanna tilted her head slightly.

“Do you think I’m beautiful?”

Kyle couldn’t answer. He was overwhelmed, trapped between reality and illusion.

“You need to answer me.”

Rosanna lifted her knee, pressing it firmly against his groin.

“T-That’s… ngh… not in the chapel….”

“It’s quiet. That’s what makes it nice.”

“This place is… sacred….”

Kyle’s breath came in uneven bursts as he squirmed. Rosanna leaned in further, her body pressing against his, shifting so that she lay slightly to the side, her ear resting near his heart.

“It’s beating so fast. You’re not going to drop dead, are you? Humans are fragile.”

“What… are you saying…? Just—please stop, okay?”

“The way you beg is adorable. Say more.”

Her hand trailed downward, fingers tugging at his Roman collar, then lower still. She fumbled at the hidden buttons beneath the layers of his cassock, attempting to undo them one by one.

“Ugh, this is annoying.”

Frustrated by the third button, she simply tore the front open. The sound of fabric ripping was sharp in the silence, exposing the layers underneath—now just as tattered, the pale skin beneath left vulnerable.

Kyle’s breath hitched as he met those crimson eyes again.

Was this a dream?

Had he fallen asleep on the pew while waiting for her? Was this some kind of nightmare? A hallucination so vivid it felt real?

His thoughts splintered apart as Rosanna moved. His cock swelled, the pressure unbearable. Every shift of her body made the friction sharper, the layers of fabric rubbing against his sensitive flesh, trapping him in growing heat.

“Haah…”

“Kyle, you look like you’re suffering. Want me to help?”

He didn’t know what she meant by help, but he bit his lower lip and nodded. His mind flickered unsteadily, like a gaslamp struggling for air. Rational thought was slipping from his grasp.

All he could see was the perfect smile of the woman above him.

Like a serpent offering the forbidden fruit, she whispered sweetly,

“This is what you wanted.”