“…You don’t know anything about the curse of the Turin tribe.”
“That’s right. People only care about the stories that say the Turins bathe in human blood, eat flesh, and offer their souls to demons.”
Tilda frowned at his sarcastic tone.
“Are you saying that’s not true?”
“No.”
His voice was sharp. Tilda was taken aback by his serious demeanor.
“…Are you trying to say the Turin tribe has been persecuted for no reason all this time?”
“Not without reason. People naturally fear and resent those who are superior to them.”
“That’s it? That’s the reason?”
“There are more complicated politics involved. It’s also about control. It’s easier to rule when you create a common enemy for people to fear.”
Tilda couldn’t believe what Kales was saying. It was like he was overturning the entire history of the Empire in one sentence. If he was right, then the temple had been inciting people to persecute the Turin tribe for no reason.
“…The temple isn’t that corrupt.”
“Not anymore. But it used to be. The prejudice and fear against the Turin still haven’t disappeared.”
Tilda unconsciously relaxed her tense body. If what he said was true, then her grandfather wasn’t guilty of anything. She was oddly relieved by that thought, which surprised her.
At some point, she had started believing his smooth lies as if they were the truth.
“This is unbelievable.”
“Whether you believe it or not is up to you. But just like the candelabra of the goddess symbolizes equality and balance, you do know you owe me for what happened yesterday, right?”
“…You did that on your own.”
“For something I did on my own, you sure took advantage of me, didn’t you?”
Kales laughed softly, his body shaking slightly. The robe that had been draped over his shoulders slipped down, revealing his neck. Even from a distance, the marks from nails and teeth on his shoulder were visible.
Tilda ignored the heat rising to her face.
“I don’t have the power to help you meet the goddess.”
“But you’re the heir to the pope, aren’t you?”
Tilda found it laughable that Kales would say such a thing, considering how well he knew the temple’s inner workings. He surely understood how she was treated there and the way people looked at her. Yet he spoke so casually.
Tilda gritted her teeth, finally forcing out a response.
“It’s just for show.”
“But by the law, you’re still the rightful heir. Do you really think your grandfather will replace you?”
“You never know.”
In truth, she was certain her grandfather intended to replace her as his successor, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit it. It was the last shred of her pride.
Kales stared at her and continued.
“If he wants to break the law and appoint someone else, the process will be incredibly complicated.”
“My grandfather wouldn’t hesitate to go through that trouble.”
“So you’re just going to stand by and let it happen?”
There was a playful tone in his voice.
Tilda hated how easily he spoke as if it meant nothing. She refused to believe that the man who had soothed her with tender touches and affection last night was the same person standing in front of her now.
His intentions were clear, and they put her in a difficult position.
“Just as I can’t understand your tribe, there are things about my family that you won’t ever understand.”
“Still, you don’t have a choice. You have to help me meet the goddess.”
He was being stubborn.
Even if she somehow became pope, it would be impossible for her to grant him an audience with the goddess. Any high priest would know that the goddess hadn’t responded to anyone for years.
“Why do you want to meet the goddess so badly?”
“I told you earlier, it’s because of the curse.”
What curse? Tilda squinted at him, waiting for an explanation.
Kales spoke with a calm expression.
“My people have short lives.”
“…Short lives?”
“We live about half as long as regular humans. It’s an ancient curse on our tribe. So, I need to meet the goddess to find out why we were cursed and how to break it.”
Tilda’s mind was spinning. The fact that the Turin had short lives was a truth that had never been revealed. Looking into Kales’s serious eyes, she couldn’t believe he was lying just to manipulate her. It was difficult to think of him as a cunning demon and yet trust his sincerity at the same time.
She stared at him for a moment before turning away.
“…I’m sorry, but that has nothing to do with me.”
What happened to her yesterday was already more than she could handle.
Aclea.
Had she ever felt such raw anger towards someone in her life? Her mind had gone blank, her blood boiling, and she had been ready to die just to end it. But this man had pulled her back into a world of chaos.
She had no choice in this.
“I’m sure you want revenge on the one who put you through all this, don’t you?”
Kales asked suddenly.
“……”
“On Aclea Belmont, who tormented you, and on Windson Nockilla, that bastard planning to remarry her.”
Tilda’s eyes widened as she looked at him. How did he know about that?
“Surely you didn’t think it was just a coincidence that I found you in that dark sea?”
Now that she thought about it, there was no way he’d just happened to find her drowning in the endless waves.
“Get revenge.”
Kales stood up and moved closer to her.
“I’ll help you.”
He leaned down, his face nearing hers as he placed his hand on the bed.
“In return, you help me.”
The robe slipping from his shoulders brought back the tantalizing scent from last night, the one that had filled the room. The lazy, seductive gaze that had melted her then was tempting her again now.
The anger festering inside her, urged her to take his offer.
But she quickly blocked out the temptation.
“This isn’t something you can just casually talk about.”
Just thinking about Aclea’s smile as she lied, and how Windson must’ve secretly mocked her with Aclea, filled Tilda with a fresh wave of fury.
But when Tilda asked herself if she really wanted revenge, she couldn’t say for sure. Even if she went through with it, it wouldn’t bring her mom or dad back. All she’d end up with was a shallow sense of satisfaction from punishing the wrongdoer and the emptiness of looking down on someone she had beaten. The Goddess Valinea, as mentioned in the scriptures, said that one should never seek revenge. The temporary thrill of getting payback only leads to a deeper sense of emptiness.
“You’re not seriously thinking about religious doctrine at a time like this, are you?” Kales said, as if he had read her mind, gently tucking her limp hair behind her ear.
Tilda’s gaze toward him was icy. She didn’t react to his tender whispering like she had last night. She now knew that his affectionate touch and words of comfort were just a means to open her up. In the end, Kales had gotten everything he wanted: his desire and his goal.
Tilda slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”
Kales laughed lightly. “Even if I wanted to, the treatment isn’t fully finished yet.”
“…What?”
People often whispered that Tilda was like a porcelain doll, cold and expressionless. But Tilda wasn’t aware of how her face always seemed to twist in front of Kales.
“That woman fed you a pretty nasty poison. One session of purification wasn’t enough.”
Tilda was sure it was just another one of his tricks—to fulfill his perverse and vulgar desires…
But as soon as she thought that, her vision suddenly darkened, like a shadow had fallen over her eyes. She swallowed dryly, trying not to let him see her discomfort, and quickly lowered her gaze.
“Oh dear.” But Kales noticed first. He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up. “You’re losing your vision again, aren’t you?”
Her unfocused eyes were exposed to his view, and Tilda glared in the direction where she knew he stood.
“You didn’t purify it all on purpose, did you?”
“How low do you think I am?”
“You tricked me from the start.”
Kales clicked his tongue. “I swear by the Goddess’s candlestick, I did my best to save you and help you recover.”
The candlestick of the Goddess was the most sacred relic in the Magorie Empire. The Goddess had gifted fire to humanity in ancient times, using her holy flame to build civilization. It was a symbol of her great gift and mercy. That’s why the candlestick was invoked when making solemn oaths. Especially for priests and clerics, lying under such an oath was said to bring illness or accidents as punishment. Even though Kales was Turin, as a high priest, he wasn’t exempt from this rule, so his oath couldn’t be false.
“That’s…”
“So, you see, if I don’t finish healing you, you’ll lose your sight again someday.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Of course not.”
His response was sly, like a cunning demon… Kales brushed Tilda’s lips slowly.
“If it hurts again, you can use me like you did yesterday.”
“That’s never going to happen.”
“We’ll see.”
With that, Kalles pressed his lips against hers. His tongue slipped between her lips without warning, teasing and exploring. Before she even realized it, Tilda’s hand had instinctively grabbed onto his clothes.
This kiss was different from last night. Now that the weight of pain had lifted, everything felt clearer—his breath, his scent, the warmth of his body. And beneath her,
Just as Tilda was about to cry out in shock at his obvious desire, a strange force, just like the one from the night before, surged from her throat and spread through her entire body.
“Ugh!”
With the pain overwhelming her, Tilda had no choice but to cling to him in desperation.
