Chapter 100

The prince and the priest strolled through the palace gardens. The prince
asked, “Should I thank you for stepping in?”

“No need,” replied the priest. “I’d have been glad if Enoch
hadn’t attacked with me.”

The prince scoffed, “Does my embarrassment amuse you?”

The priest smiled and said, “You’re finally showing some
self-awareness.”

The palace gardens were maze-like, with tall green walls of trees engulfing
them. The prince, cane in hand, said without disdain, “Eugene, you’re a
monster.”

“To you, perhaps.”

“To most, I’d wager.”

The prince calmly stated, “Your heart is like that of a devil.”

“So to a devil, I must seem ordinary. And who decides what’s God and
what’s devil?”

The prince pondered the priest’s elusive thoughts for a moment. “So you
were born this way?”

The priest, feeling he spoke not just as Eugene, but with a natural pride,
replied, “Certainly.”

The prince stopped by a birdcage-like pavilion amid the tree walls and sat
on one of its seats.

The priest stopped as well, turning to face the prince.

The weather in the capital was fine, the sky blue, and the priest’s cardinal
robe bright as a rose against the green walls.

“Please, sit,” the prince gestured.

The priest hesitated, then extended his hand. The prince took it, and they
sat together on a narrow chair entwined with vines, like something from a fairy
tale.

“Eugene, I want to understand you,” said the prince.

The priest considered. “You already understand me quite well.”

“Should I feel honored by that?”

“It’s a fact. Whether it honors you is up to you.”

“Earlier, you lied, didn’t you?” the prince asked. “You’ve
never had an intimate relationship with anyone else like you have with
me.”

“That wasn’t a lie.”

The prince gripped the priest’s hand tighter, coldly asking, “So why
did you part ways with those people?”

“They died.”

The prince suddenly felt unusually relieved. He’d always thought of himself
as broad-minded, unbothered by the priest’s past intimacy with others. But now,
hearing they were dead, he felt unexpectedly at ease. Suppressing his inner
joy, he calmly said, “So it seems you weren’t as promiscuous as you
described. You remained loyal until death separated you.”

“If that comforts you, then yes.”

The priest smirked slightly. “But I must remind you, two of those were
brothers.”

The prince’s face stiffened, but knowing they were dead eased him somewhat.
“Oh, really?” he feigned nonchalance. “So, did you start with
the younger brother or the elder?”

“We started together.”

The prince struggled to find words, his eyes fixed intensely on the priest,
trying to discern if this was a terrible joke.

The priest’s expression remained ordinary, as if discussing having had both
tea and coffee that day.

The prince took several deep breaths, his chest heaving, face reddening.
Through gritted teeth, he said, “Let me remind you, you’re only
eighteen.”

“The clergy isn’t concerned with that. You should know.”

The prince’s expression changed. “Were they monks too?”

“No.”

“Then who were they?”

“It doesn’t matter,” said the priest. “Peasants.”

The prince’s vision darkened momentarily. Peasants? He knew he shouldn’t
imagine, but images of the young priest and sturdy peasant brothers rolling in
fields immediately filled his mind.

The prince regretted bringing up the topic. He shook his head, bluntly
saying, “My father has passed away.”

“Ah.”

“He left one word behind,” the prince said slowly. “He said,
‘Forgive’.”

“Beautiful words.”

“I don’t know what he wanted me to forgive, or perhaps he forgave me,
forgave my disability.”

“He probably wanted you to forgive Sharman for setting that fire.”
The priest said lightly.

The prince’s pupils contracted, gripping the priest’s hand tightly and
raising his voice, “Sharman?!”

“Yes, didn’t you know? No need to thank me, Sharman will receive a
profound lesson from the revolutionaries.”

The prince’s lips parted and closed again, his eyes staring intensely at the
priest. “How do you know about this?”

“The king confessed to me,” the priest smirked mysteriously,
“he probably didn’t expect me, a priest who never keeps secrets from his
followers, to know.”

Oh, the prince remembered, and the priest also knew the secret of how he
executed Hebrew from the king.

The prince’s chest heaved. “So you intentionally let Sharman be
abducted by the revolutionaries because of this?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the priest said, “of course not, what
does it have to do with me? He just set a fire that burned your face, Randes. I
am blind; even if your whole face were burned, it wouldn’t affect me.”

The prince was almost speechless. He realized that the priest was extremely,
even dangerously, self-centered in his words. Hoping that the priest would seek
justice for him was purely wishful thinking, just like the passionate debate
earlier was merely because Enoch offended the priest.

He truly was a monster, utterly selfish and lacking in empathy.

The prince looked down at the priest’s fair hand in his palm. “Have you
ever thought about finding your birth parents?”

“No.”

“Don’t you even have curiosity?”

The priest fell silent, offering no reply.

“I used to think I didn’t care. My relationship with my father wasn’t
that close, but when he left, I felt deeply troubled, Eugene,” the prince
said softly. “You wouldn’t understand, would you?”

Again, the priest remained silent. Suddenly, he thought of his own parents,
his real parents. He was born an orphan and had never been curious about the
specifics of who brought him into the world. Natural human emotions were faint;
reproduction was merely the continuation of civilization, nothing more.

“Eugene, I still love you.”

There was a hint of sadness in the prince’s voice, yet also a hint of
happiness. “I don’t regret giving my love.”

“This isn’t about defying you. The existence of love is something we
cannot resist. I don’t want to deceive myself, and I don’t think falling in
love with you is a sin, even though it’s tormenting. But the love that is
easily given up isn’t love at all. No matter how much you mock, ridicule,
provoke, or threaten, I won’t back down.”

The prince spoke to the priest, but more to himself. He doubted whether the
priest could understand what he was saying.

The prince kissed the priest’s lips. “I love you, without considering
it a sin.”

*

In the darkness, two bodies intertwined and rolled over.

The priest’s hand traced the rough scars on the prince’s body, feeling a
sense of confusion.

He remembered the brothers from the first world, who persisted despite their
imminent collapse, all because they still loved him.

If emotions had such power, why were they discarded in evolution?

The priest’s eyes were slightly unfocused. The prince kissed his eyelashes.
“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking about those brothers.”

The prince’s chest tightened. “Right now, I’m with you.”

“I know,” the priest’s finger traced the scar on the prince’s
face, “you two are quite alike.”

The prince muttered, “Are you trying to make me jealous?”

The prince grew fierce. The priest’s fingertips trembled on his face. They
kissed face-to-face, embracing tightly, their sweaty skin sticking together.

The priest suddenly let go of his fingers, arms around the prince’s neck,
and nose against the prince’s neck, breathing rapidly.

After a burst of passion, the two hugged and slowly breathed together. Their
bodies pressed together, rising and falling with each breath. After a moment,
four lips stuck together, and their breath became messy again.

They made love passionately like beasts in a secluded room all afternoon, on
the bed, the sofa, even standing up, the priest pulling the curtains, and the
prince constantly behind him.

“Never before had the priest felt such complete and ecstatic
satisfaction, almost intoxicated by it. He abandoned all thoughts and immersed
himself in the primal joy.

As darkness fell and candles were needed, the naked priest lay on the sofa,
covered in kisses. His thighs and buttocks were flushed red from the vigorous
encounter, his chest slightly swollen from the passion that had engulfed him.
Every part of his body was hot, and his most sensitive areas tingled with
sensation, flowing with love’s fluids, reaching the pinnacle of desire.

The prince lifted the priest onto his lap, kissing him. At that moment, the
priest seemed to return his kisses as if in love, each one sweet and moist.

“Marry me,” the prince kissed him, “Eugene, marry me, be my
wife…”

The priest shook his head, his lower lip wetly brushing the prince’s mouth.
“Don’t talk nonsense, that’s impossible.”

“Then stay by my side, until I die.”

The priest lifted the prince’s chin with a finger, lightly biting the
prince’s pointed chin. “That’s equally nonsensical. Alright, Your
Highness, please stop being playful. This afternoon was delightful; I hope we
can have such enjoyable times more often in the future.”

The priest got up from the prince, casually picked up a nearby blanket to
cover himself, and turned back. “See you at the king’s funeral.”

The late king’s funeral was held at the cathedral. After a series of
investigations, Bishop Enoch expressed his apologies to Bishop Eugene,
recognizing his noble character and unsullied reputation, and requested his
participation in the king’s funeral, which Eugene agreed to.

The funeral was extremely solemn, witnessed by various nobles and landed
gentry at Fort Shoisburg, bidding farewell to the king.

The king’s body was buried in the crypt of the Ersburg Cathedral,
symbolizing Lecy’s restoration of religious power.

After everything was over, Enoch also apologized to the prince.

The prince remained noncommittal because he had indeed killed Bishop Hebrew.

The priest asked what sin Bishop Hebrew had committed that warranted his
execution.

The prince looked at the priest. “Do you think Hebrew committed a sin,
and not I?”

The priest thought to himself, of course, how could the protagonist commit a
crime?

The priest’s silence brought a faint smile to the prince’s face. “I
can’t tell you. I can only tell you that he was a beast who deserved to go to
hell. Killing him didn’t trouble my conscience in the slightest.”

“What about messing around with the monk?” the priest asked.

A deeper smile flickered in the prince’s eyes. “That seems to be the
first time you’ve joked with me.”

Again, the priest fell silent.

“Firstly, we’re not messing around. I proposed to you, remember?”
The prince smiled. “Secondly, being with you genuinely makes me happy.
Before I met you, my life was devoid of much joy. You’ve shown me experiences I
never knew existed, Eugene…” The prince paused, looking at the priest
with the tall spires behind him. “Eugene, I sincerely wish you all the
happiness, and hope that one day you’ll understand how I feel right now.”