Chapter 98

“The priest indeed fell asleep, entering a rather pleasant state as he
gradually drifted into slumber. However, the moment the prince pushed open the
door, he woke up. Pretending to still be asleep, he speculated on what the
prince would do next.

The priest opened his eyes, using his beautiful green eyes to signal to the
prince that he was awake.

The prince’s expression was solemn, unseen by the priest, but his tense
spirit and suppressed emotions were palpable in his breath.

“Your Highness.”

The priest’s voice was soft, with a hint of amusement, almost flirting,
“I thought you would prefer me to be asleep, so you could manipulate me as
you please.”

“Sharman has been taken away,” the prince said.

“Is that so?” The priest curled his long legs, leaning against the
bed as he slowly sat up. His golden hair was disheveled, and the pinned rose on
his head made his scalp tense. He deftly removed the decorative hairpin, his
fingers skillfully unraveling his hair. “I would like to console you, but
it seems the whereabouts of the crown prince are not so important to you after
all,” the priest said, toying with the jewel hairpin in his hand.
“Well, shall we get to bed?”

The prince stood at the foot of the bed, his left hand gripping the copper
headboard. He did not accept the priest’s rare invitation, his tone somewhat
harsh. “Can I understand that you are trying to change the subject?”

The priest’s hollow green eyes shot toward the prince in the dim light. In
that moment, the prince almost thought he could see them, like two bewitching
will-o’-the-wisps, both alluring and frightening.

The priest’s hair fell loose. His golden hair was not long, just
shoulder-length, a length that made him resemble a divine figure in a painting,
perfectly complementing his soft facial features, appearing harmless and pure.

Because of the mask, the priest did not embellish his face much, merely
playfully applying a bit of lipstick to his lips.

The face without the mask clearly indicated his gender: a handsome young
face, blond hair, green eyes, lips slightly pursed lips, appearing proud yet
cold.

The dancing skirt did not lend him any softness; instead, it outlined his
slender figure too distinctly, like a coiled python in the darkness, quietly
lying in wait to strangle all his enemies.

Was he an enemy too? The prince thought calmly yet with tumultuous emotions.
His calmness was his reason, his surge of emotion was his passion.

“Change the subject?” The priest floated lightly, bending one leg.
The smooth satin skirt spread from his legs, and stockings piled beautifully in
between his thighs, tempting whether to remove them or not, the most wonderful
temptation.

“I’m just not interested in other people’s affairs,” the priest
said, “I just want to do something interesting with you, Your
Highness.”

“That revolutionary party infiltrated the ranks of monks.” The
prince ignored the temptation in front of him, even a little annoyed. Did he
really think he could get away with this? Did he think he was such a useless
man who could be tempted by beauty? Or is the body used as an exchange tool?
This is an insult to both of them!

Suppressing his anger, “Infiltrated thirty monks, Eugene——” the
prince’s tone was very severe, different from the arrogance when they first
met. This severity contained the pain, disappointment, and anger of being
offended… “Do you think I’m a fool?”

The priest remained silent, his eyelashes gently covering his big eyes, his
bent legs put down, and his back leaning back, looking guilty.

“Why?”

The prince slammed the copper bed tail heavily, and the entire bed shook
with a “buzz.”

The prince threw his hand away and walked back and forth in place, looking
very ugly, “Are you colluding with the revolutionary party?!”

The priest still avoided speaking silently, his fingers fiddling with the
gem hairpin, looking like a child who inadvertently broke the vase and had to
face the mistake.

Isn’t it a child?

The priest’s strong ambition made the prince forget that he was only
eighteen years old.

“I really can’t believe,” the prince’s hands clasped the copper
tail of the bed, his tall figure curled up at the tail of the bed like an angry
beast, “you chose to cooperate with me and collude with the revolutionary
party!”

“Colby District… let me think about it…”

The prince’s mind was extremely sharp, otherwise, he would not be able to do
an excellent lord, Staring at his eyes, everything was clear, “That day in
the small wooden shed, I mean the day I went to find you, damn it,” he
remembered. He bought flowers and apples and wanted to go to the priest’s love,
the prince breathed quickly, his face flushed, “Hiding in the wooden shed
is not a poor patient at all, that is the revolutionary party, am I right?!
Eugene Priest!”

“The prince grew increasingly angry, a wicked fire seizing his heart.
He shook the bed forcefully, causing the priest to sway like a flower falling
on a pond.

‘Speak, say something, defend yourself, and use your eloquence to convince
me,’ the prince shouted, walking to the bedside. He gripped the priest’s
shoulders, chest heaving, eyes fixed on the priest’s beautiful face. ‘Tell me,
from beginning to end, tell me everything truthfully. Do not dare to hide or
deceive me again!’

The priest’s expression seemed fearful, a man usually composed now showed a
trace of vulnerability. The prince refused to acknowledge it, yet his heart
softened.

‘He is someone I knew before, a friend. I couldn’t refuse him,’ the priest
murmured.

The prince’s brow furrowed tightly. ‘A friend?’ he exclaimed mockingly. ‘So,
it’s for friendship?’

The priest pursed his red lips. Under the prince’s intense gaze, he timidly
raised his eyelids and smiled.

This smile pierced the prince like a soft heart suddenly struck by a thorn.

‘How could that be?’ the prince demanded.

The priest’s tender demeanor changed with this smile, and his laughter is
now sly. ‘I have no friends, no friendships. A poor revolutionary, how could he
be worthy of my friendship?’

The priest pushed the prince forcefully. Caught off guard, the prince
stumbled back.

The priest stood up on the bed, looking pleased. ‘Randes, you’re clever. I
enjoy playing with clever people.’

‘Playing?’ Randes looked up at the priest from below.

The ceiling seemed to press down. The priest grinned. ‘Yes, Randes, haven’t
we always played well together?’

‘From the moment you pushed open the door, every word and action of yours
has been entertaining,’ the priest laughed recklessly. ‘Did you just soften
because I looked pitiful? You softened immediately, didn’t you?’

Randes felt a boiling flame in his mind. His eyes almost emitted fire as he
clenched his fists tightly. ‘You’re toying with me.’

‘That’s obvious.’

‘Do you hate me?’

‘Of course not.’

‘Then why do this?!’

‘Because I enjoy it.’

Rarely did the priest choose honesty. Since he had no intention of crushing
the protagonist’s spirit entirely, he saw no need to conceal further. He simply
reveled in the pleasure of manipulating the protagonist, a delightful pastime.

The priest lifted his skirt, walking towards the edge of the bed. ‘I enjoy
your anger, sadness, despair, anger, and collapse… Your pain brings me
pleasure,’ he spread his arms like a bird, descending towards Randes. In
despair, Randes involuntarily opened his arms and caught the descending figure.
The priest’s black skirt fluttered as he embraced the prince’s neck, whispering
affectionately in his ear, ‘Randes, I truly wish I could see it. Then I would
see you crying for me.’

Randes held the soft, beautiful body in his arms, feeling like he embraced a
devil, a born villain.

In this world, there were people who found joy in others’ pain.

Yet he didn’t even hate him. He purely derived pleasure from it, like a
child savoring sweetness from candy.

The prince no longer harbored illusions about the priest. He knew him as
greedy, hypocritical, selfish, and cruel. His character lacked nobility
compared to God, but the priest’s confession still surpassed his imagination.

Amidst a whirlwind of emotions, astonishment ultimately prevailed, even
overwhelming anger. With astonishing willpower, the prince calmed himself,
lifting his arm and bringing the priest down from the bed.

The priest raised his legs, hooking them around the prince’s waist.

‘Release Sharman,’ Randes said coldly. ‘Apart from duty, he means nothing to
me.’

‘Can’t do that,’ the priest’s tone remained affectionate. ‘If I let him go,
he’ll come back and blabber everywhere. The whole palace will know I brought
the revolutionary party here.’

‘What can a fool like him possibly know?’ Randes sneered.”

“He knew what I told him.”

Incredulously, Randes looked at the priest.

“Otherwise, how could he have been taken hostage so easily?”

Randes thought he should be furious, raging, but that storm had passed, and
now he was growing calmer. “Oh, not content with conspiring with the
revolutionaries, now you’re in cahoots with scum like Sharman too? Eugene, your
appetite is quite something.”

“Allow me to correct you. It’s not collusion, just utilization.”

Randes chuckled bitterly, too angry to speak. “I’m sorry, but even if
Sharman were taken a thousand times, I wouldn’t be as sad as you’d like me to
be.”

“It’s not about him being taken, it’s about your crimes being
exposed.”

The prince felt himself getting angry again. He threw the man onto the bed,
covering him, gripping the priest’s wrists. “It was you. It was you—”

“Of course it was me.”

The prince felt like a toy being manipulated by the priest. He knew the
priest was intentionally alternating between weakness and provocation, taking
pleasure in it, but he couldn’t remain calm. “Are you seeking vengeance
for Hebrew?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t care about his life or death.”

“I thought as much…” The prince suppressed his words. “So
you’re purely doing this to embarrass me?”

The priest countered, “Does it embarrass you?”

The prince squeezed the priest’s wrists, almost crushing them. “No, I
feel proud.” He released the priest, straightened up, and turned to leave,
feeling he might soon lose control of his emotions.

Slowly, the priest sat up from the bed. He twitched his nose as if sniffing
the remnants of the prince’s anger.

The prince saw it clearly as he glanced back at the door.

Achill through the prince’s heart. The figure sitting on the bed wasn’t a
beautiful youth; it was a strange, wild beast.

*

The morning brought a series of bad news, one after another to the prince.

He had already discarded the ridiculous outfit. Yes, he found his efforts
last night to dress up laughable. He looked disheveled, with tousled hair and a
wrinkled shirt. He listened coldly as the captain of the guards reported that
the crown prince had not been found.

The prince already had a rough idea of the truth.

For the revolutionaries, the prince alive was more useful than dead.
Therefore, he wasn’t worried about Sharman now. He didn’t care if Sharman died
outside.

Next, the nobility were discussing Randes’s crimes. The royal court and city
court seemed to be stirring. There were many branches of the Hackett family,
and with the crown prince abducted, the guilty prince, and the two waste
princes, the rest of the palace nobles saw the current opportunity and began to
be restless.

The worst news was that the seriously ill King Yarlin knew all about it.

“Randes, save Sharman…”

Yarlin held the prince’s hand tightly. His weak body was further stimulated
by the successive bad news, and his face was somewhat fierce. “I must
admit to you that what you did to the Hebrew I only confessed to one
person…” Yarlin pulled the prince’s hand down and gestured for him to
lean in to listen.

In fact, this was unnecessary, but the prince still pretended to know
nothing and bowed down to hear Yarlin say the name he expected.

“Randes, calling you this way is really bad. There is no evidence in
this matter. It doesn’t matter if you don’t admit it. Just to quell the rumors,
you have to endure humiliation and make sacrifices.”

Yarlin spoke slowly and painfully. “Let the new bishop crown you to
break those discussions.”

Randes’s pupils contracted slightly.

“Don’t take revenge for this,” Yarlin urged. “At least until
you sit firmly on the throne, don’t hit the apostolic palace again.”

Randes looked silently at the king, his face pale. Yarlin barely smiled at Randes
and said, “Randes, you are right, and the people in the apostolic palace
are really the devil.”

“Randes left the king’s bedchamber.

The king’s humiliating words echoed in his ears, while the priest’s earlier
proclamation also surfaced in his mind.

— “I wish to baptize you first, and then crown you.”

The religious tradition lost for a century throughout the Auston continent
is about to be revived in Lecy.

Under the priest’s conspiracy.

Randes’ steps slowed more and more until he stopped, looking out the window.

The imposing and beautiful statue of the goddess loomed large.

The Cardinal stood beside the statue, head bowed in what seemed like prayer.

“Are you doing all this not just to embarrass me, but to force me to
accept your coronation against my will?” the prince asked in a lowered
voice before the statue.

The priest lowered his head. “You understand it’s not too late.”

“But I’ve already promised you.”

“You made a promise, but I don’t believe in promises.”

“…”

“I never place my hopes in others,” the priest turned his face,
“Prince, you’d better learn that too.”

“We will be partners in cooperation, lovers in bed, adversaries in the
field of power, and at the same time, you also serve as my plaything, for which
you should consider yourself honored,” the priest made the sign of the
cross over his chest with his fingers, “so please don’t ever speak any
words of love to me again, as they simply cannot exist between us.”