Asrahan’s hand, gripping Lariette’s waist, tightened subtly. Without realizing it, he stared fixedly at her face.
Droplets of water slowly rolled down her plump cheeks and chin, and her rose-red lips were slightly parted.
Her dress was soaked, faintly revealing the pale skin beneath, and the violet eyes he had thought only cheerful sparkled more seductively than anyone’s in the world.
Thick veins rose of their own accord on Asrahan’s arm. He frowned and pulled her waist closer.
“Hic!”
Lariette looked up at the face of the man who had lifted her into his arms, her pupils trembling wildly. She was so startled that her hiccups started again.
“You seem determined to catch a cold.”
Asrahan set Lariette down outside the fountain, then immediately took off his coat and draped it over her. Once the thick coat wrapped around her body, the chill eased considerably.
“You said you didn’t want to. You were determined to make me fall for you, weren’t you! Hic!”
“Let us not talk.”
He shook his head at Lariette, who flirted regardless of the situation. Then he whispered a brief excuse me and lifted her into his arms again.
“I am only trying to return quickly. There is no other meaning, so please do not misunderstand.”
“I’m going to misunderstand plenty. More importantly, what if you catch a cold, Asrahan? I really am someone who doesn’t catch colds, so put this back on. If you catch a cold, I’ll be so guilty I won’t be able to sleep…”
“Enough.”
Asrahan cut her off as he strode forward quickly on his long legs. The soft voice tickling his ear was far too distracting.
Of course, Lariette was not the sort of person who stopped just because she was told to.
Without pause, she went on about how this date had been far too short, how it didn’t count, and how she truly did not catch colds.
Her tireless chatter only came to an end after he set her down on the bed as if tossing her onto it.
And the next day, Lariette caught a cold. A very severe one at that.
***
“…38.5 degrees. Her fever is far too high.”
Halstein said in a worried voice after checking the thermometer the maid had brought. And the moment he finished speaking, Asrahan’s icy gaze landed on Lariette.
“Someone who doesn’t catch colds, was it…”
Lariette, lying in bed under that gaze as cold as ice, was busy turning her head away to avoid his eyes. But his sharp stare kept pricking at her face.
“You’re witnessing the first cold of my life. Congratulations!”
“…”
“I’m sorryyy…”
She had attempted to brush it off cheerfully, but it did not work in the slightest. She coughed for no reason and turned her body away.
Asrahan let out a small sigh as he looked at her, pitiful if one were to call her pitiful. She was someone who simply never fell within the range of his expectations.
“…I must go to the imperial castle today. I will call a priest, so do not do anything foolish and receive treatment.”
“Mhm, all right.”
Lariette answered obediently. Asrahan, who had thought she would whine for him to stay with her because she was sick, subtly raised an eyebrow.
For her, it was only natural.
Throughout her life, the only person who had ever nursed her when she was ill was Anne. When Anne was busy, all she could do was lie alone.
And so, for Lariette, being cared for while sick was something she did not even expect. Asrahan, who had assumed from her innocent demeanor that she had only ever grown up loved, could not have guessed that.
“Then, rest.”
“See you tomorrow, Asrahan.”
Lariette waved her hand vigorously at his brief farewell. Asrahan, who had intended to stop by once after returning home, fell silent for a moment before leaving.
As he returned to his room to prepare, he walked down the corridor and gave Halstein an order.
“Call a priest. It does not matter how much it costs—bring one as quickly as possible.”
“I thought you would say that, so I have already called one. They should be on their way by now.”
“…Yes.”
Halstein answered with a pleased smile on his wrinkled face. For some reason, Asrahan found that smile unpleasant and furrowed his brow.
Back in his room, Asrahan hurriedly changed into formal attire. Since the summons had been sudden, he unusually allowed Halstein to attend him.
Ordinarily, Asrahan kept servants as far from him as possible, and for that reason, the number of people in the household of Duke Candel was noticeably smaller than that of other noble families. He did not want to face expressions that twisted because of him.
Having changed in an instant, he finally put on a black overcoat embroidered with gold thread and left the ducal residence.
From the moment he descended the stairs, passed through the main gate, and climbed into the carriage, his mind was filled solely with thoughts of Lariette.
‘Her reaction was not like usual.’
The sight of her smiling weakly kept bothering him. It had been a face too shadowed to be explained simply by illness.
‘…Come to think of it, how did she leave the Blanche ducal house?’
It was a question so belated that it was strange it had only now occurred to him. Though Blanche’s financial situation had apparently worsened greatly of late, it was still one of only three ducal houses in the empire, and a family of founding meritorious retainers.
For the daughter of such an illustrious house to stay for months in another duke’s residence? It was absurd.
In his joy at having found a purification mage who could lift his curse, and in his confusion that this very mage was courting him so passionately, whether in jest or otherwise, he had failed to think of it.
‘I will have to look into it.’
Asrahan tapped the window frame with his finger and fixed his gaze outside.
Before he knew it, the carriage had departed and was traveling down the road. Soon, a carriage coming from the opposite direction entered his view. It was a pure white carriage that contrasted sharply with the black carriage of Duke Candel’s house.
A carriage from the Temple of Alteon. Asrahan fixed his indifferent gaze on the approaching carriage.
The two carriages crossed paths, and their windows faced each other for a moment. He quietly glanced over the interior of the white carriage.
In that brief instant, what Asrahan confirmed was the back of someone who was undoubtedly the priest Halstein had called. Long silver hair like threads spun from moonlight remained in his afterimage.
“A priestess…?”
One corner of Asrahan’s mouth lifted ever so slightly. And then he was startled by the fact that he had smiled.
Why did I smile? He asked himself, but naturally, no answer came. He pressed one hand to his forehead and tried to shake off thoughts of her.
***
After seeing Asrahan off, Lariette had fallen into a light sleep. Her body felt far too heavy and far too hot. What woke her as she groaned was the maid’s voice announcing the priest’s visit.
“My lady. The priest has arrived.”
“Mhm, just a moment… Tell them to come in.”
Lariette breathed out hot, ragged breaths as she pushed herself upright, then hurriedly straightened her appearance.
With her permission, the door soon opened, and a priest with long silver hair walked in.
“Excuse me. Are you my patient, my lady?”
“…Hic!”
Lariette gave no answer, only let out a clear hiccup. At that, the priest smiled leisurely and continued.
“Judging by your appearance, it seems you are.”
She stared intently at the priest approaching her as she leaned against the bed, her face flushed with fever.
It was a situation in which she could not help but hiccup. He was a man so dazzlingly handsome that one could call him a god rather than a priest.
The priest, with silver hair that sparkled like stars and the golden eyes of a beast of prey, was so beautiful that if not for the bold lines of his features, one might have believed him a woman.
His wickedly curved eyes were especially captivating, and his sharp nose and distinct jawline were alluring. The body beneath his white priestly robes was as lithe as a jaguar’s, with well-shaped muscles firm beneath them.
‘Thank you, God…’
To let her see such a handsome man before she died—and one who was even a different type of beauty from Asrahan. There could be no god more benevolent than this. Lariette briefly resolved to become a devout believer from that day onward.
“I am Doha, a servant of Alteon. And you, my lady?”
“I’m Lariette.”
“It is a pleasure, Lariette.”
Before she knew it, the priest, Doha, had taken a seat in the chair beside her bed and was smiling as he offered his hand.
As Lariette shook his hand, she barely held back the tears of emotion she wanted to shed.
“Now then, shall we begin the treatment?”
Without hesitation, Doha reached out and cupped her cheek, lifting it slightly.
Lariette was flustered by the unexpected posture, but when she saw golden light spreading, she obediently entrusted herself to him.
“…Your condition is not good, so it seems this may take some time. Shall we talk for a bit?”
“Ah, yes.”
“Lady Lariette, how did you come to be staying in a place like this?”
The question he asked so smoothly was sharper than expected. Lariette smiled and avoided answering.
“Ah, if it is difficult to answer, you need not. I was a bit rude. Because of this personality of mine, I cannot avoid being bullied even at the temple.”
“Bullied?”
“Yes. The temple has a clear hierarchy as well, so a mere low-ranking priest like myself is often disregarded.”
“Oh no…”
When a bitter smile spread across that pretty face, Lariette looked at Doha with sympathy. Only after hearing his words did she notice the small wound on his forehead.
‘I heard that poor low-ranking priests are usually the ones sent out for house calls… I guess it’s really true. Still, even so, with a wound on such a pretty face, his seniors should have healed him!’
Anger toward priests she had never even seen welled up inside her. Thinking that his circumstances must not be good enough for him to call a healing mage made her feel even more sorry for him.
“There, it is done.”
Doha smiled brightly again and removed his hand from her. Thanks to the divine power, her body felt light as if it had never been heavy, and her fever seemed to have nearly subsided as well.
Though he had healed her in exchange for payment, gratitude toward him surged up now that she had so easily regained her health. And so, Lariette decided to show a small bit of kindness.
“Um, could you come a little closer for a moment?”
“Of course, my lady.”
Doha leaned closer to her without the slightest hesitation. At the face that came far too close, Lariette felt needlessly embarrassed and pulled back, stretching her hand toward his forehead.
“…!”
White light spread and began to seep into his forehead. It was only the healing of a single small wound, so she had expected it to end quickly, but contrary to her expectations, it consumed a fair amount of mana.
Soon, the small wound on Doha’s forehead vanished without a trace. Lariette smiled faintly and withdrew her hand.
“There, it is done.”
“…How astonishing.”
At the sight of her playfully imitating his words, Doha’s smile suddenly deepened. The corners of his already curved eyes bent even more, and his golden gaze gleamed subtly.
“Are you a healing mage?”
“Mm, well, yes.”
There was no need to proclaim that she was a purification mage and add to the rumors surrounding Asrahan, so Lariette nodded. Doha idly brushed his finger along the edge of the bed as he continued.
“Would you, by any chance, consider working as my healing mage? I would pay you generously.”
It seemed she had been mistaken in thinking he was a penniless priest. Either that, or he was exaggerating for no reason.
Lariette pondered for a moment, but soon shook her head. It would be a serious problem if she wasted her mana elsewhere and then failed to purify Asrahan’s curse.
“I’m busy right now, so that would be a bit difficult.”
“Then, later? Any time when you have the leisure would be fine.”
“Uh… Later, well, it might be possible.”
“Excellent. Then it is a promise. As a token of my gratitude, I will continue to treat you for free as well. Of course, whenever you treat me, my lady, I will always pay you accordingly.”
At the unexpected proposal, her round eyes opened wide. From her perspective, there was nothing bad about the arrangement.
She had already felt embarrassed about making Asrahan bear the cost of her treatment! Delighted at having discovered a means of earning money that she could use even after she one day left the Candel ducal residence, Lariette smiled brightly.
“Sounds good!”
“Since we have formed such a fine connection, how would you feel about becoming friends?”
“Friends…?”
“It would be a waste to remain in such a dry employer-employee relationship, when I find you quite to my liking, Lady Lariette.”
Doha brought his face closer to Lariette’s and smiled seductively.
It was a word she had not heard in a very long time. Friend. Her life, spent pretending to be an excellent ducal lady, had been so stifling that she had never been able to make a true friend.
‘That’s right. Before I die, I should experience friendship at least once.’
At the sudden thought, Lariette nodded gravely, as if she had made up her mind. At that, Doha laughed and offered his first greeting as a friend.
“Good. I’ll be counting on you, miss.”
He had dropped formalities in no time. Though she was a little flustered, she soon smiled and answered.
“Mm, Doha.”
***
The holiest and noblest place in the Harshan Empire, the Temple of Alteon.
Before the beautiful white building that soared high toward the heavens, a shabby carriage came to a stop.
A man with long silver hair, Doha, stepped down from the carriage, his white priestly robes fluttering.
His stride toward the main gate was endlessly confident, and his face had gone cold and hard, as if he had never been smiling at all.
The temple’s massive front doors, which looked as though they would not open even if several grown men put their strength to it, began to swing open smoothly at a single gesture from Doha.
As he walked down the corridor laid with an elegant navy carpet, another priest approached from behind with his head bowed.
“You have returned.”
“Ah, yes.”
“……If you will excuse me, where did you go without saying a word?”
The priest asked as he scurried after Doha, who had given only a brief reply and kept walking. Because of the difference in the length of their legs, Doha walked leisurely, while the priest practically had to run.
“The Kandel ducal residence.”
“Pardon? Why would you go to that monster duke……?”
“A house call for treatment.”
“Pardooon?!”
Why would you go personally for that? The priest asked back with a dumbfounded look, but Doha gave no answer and instead bent down, bringing his face close to him.
“Why are you suddenly putting your face— Gasp! The wound……?”
“A healing mage there did it.”
“A mere healing mage?”
The priest’s mouth fell open as he stared at the bright, exposed forehead. The skin was perfectly clean, without a single blemish left.
That should be impossible. The priest stared at Doha and muttered blankly.
“Yes, it should be impossible.”
It was something impossible even for the most extraordinary archmages, and even for the high priests who sent him looks of jealousy.
Divine power and the power of healing differed subtly in nature, so it was possible for a healing mage to treat a priest stronger than themselves.
But that was only when the difference in power was not great. If the gap was overwhelming, it was something that could never happen.
“How could a mere healing mage heal Lord Mikhail’s wound?!”
The priest raised his voice, unable to believe it. Doha grinned at him and replied.
“That is what we shall find out from now on.”
Mikhail Dohabellion.
The high priest hailed as the next pope of Alteon, the empire’s state religion, thought of the adorable new prey he had discovered, and the golden eyes of a predator flashed savagely.