“It seems to perfectly complement the white dress your daughter is wearing today,” Jeha remarked, his tone appreciative.
There was no falsehood in his words. Miss Fanucci was a girl of painterly beauty, and the tiara would undoubtedly suit her white dress.
“To bestow such an extravagant gift upon us…. Ainel, hurry and express your gratitude.”
Mrs. Fanucci, momentarily lost in admiration, quickly composed herself.
“Thank you for this beautiful and generous gift, Your Grace, Marquis Belgarga.”
Ainel bowed a little deeper than her initial greeting. Still a young girl unaccustomed to concealing her emotions, her voice trembled slightly.
“Go on, put on the tiara and come back out. Marquis Belgarga has gone to such trouble to present you with this gift; wouldn’t it be wonderful to show it off to the other guests?”
Mrs. Fanucci urged her, speaking a little louder as if to ensure everyone overheard. Ainel departed with a maid who had taken the box.
Mrs. Fanucci made no effort to hide her flushed excitement. Her face glowed with a profound sense of pride and joy at having been acknowledged by the royal family.
Jeha realized he had been truly wise to follow Paimon’s suggestion.
Mrs. Fanucci overtly attached herself to Jeha, moving about and introducing Marquis Belgarga to various people.
As the Pope’s mistress and queen of society, her enthusiastic introductions ensured that no one concealed their favor.
Jeha felt his face might cramp from the incessant smiling. It was, quite literally, an inferno of introductions and greetings.
Fortunately, it did not last much longer. With a murmur from the crowd, all eyes shifted to one side.
At the top of the grand staircase leading to the central lobby, a girl in a white dress stood. The tiara Jeha had gifted her scattered brilliant light from atop her head.
As she sensed the gaze of the onlookers, the girl’s face seemed to flush slightly, before she proudly lifted her chin. She then began to descend slowly, her white-gloved hand gracefully sliding along the stair railing.
It was as if a young queen had made her grand entrance. Jeha glanced at Mrs. Fanucci beside him.
On her face, as she watched her daughter’s splendid re-entry adorned with the tiara, pride and delight intertwined.
“The tiara truly suits your daughter beautifully,” Jeha complimented Mrs. Fanucci.
Her eyes sparkling with excitement, Mrs. Fanucci nodded.
As the girl reached the bottom of the stairs, a throng of young people converged around her. All were captivated by her striking beauty and influential background.
Jeha inwardly tutted at the sight. While she might be of marriageable age in this society, to him, anyone under twenty was unequivocally a minor.
Just as Mrs. Fanucci was about to drag Jeha around for more introductions, the main doors suddenly swung open.
The doorman’s booming voice rang out: “Archbishop Hereis and Bishop Peressio have arrived!”
At the announcement, all eyes in the room collectively turned towards the entrance. Jeha’s head instinctively snapped around at the mention of Hereis’s name.
Despite the private nature of the gathering, both men were clad in splendid priestly vestments.
Their pristine white robes, adorned with purple stoles and cinctures intricately embroidered with gold thread, presented a truly beautiful and sacred sight.
Jeha found himself unconsciously smiling at the large, brilliant blue sapphire pendant resting on Hereis’s chest. Seeing his gift worn brought an indescribable flutter of satisfaction to his heart.
Mrs. Fanucci navigated through the crowd, leading Jeha in her wake. Soon, they stood before Hereis and Bishop Peressio.
“Mrs. Fanucci.”
“Mother.”
The two men bowed their heads slightly in greeting. Mrs. Fanucci beamed, clearly finding it a great honor to be acknowledged by such high-ranking clerics.
“Thank you for gracing us with your esteemed presence, Archbishop,” Mrs. Fanucci greeted in a gentle, almost lilting voice.
“Archbishop Hereis, Bishop Peressio.”
Jeha offered his greetings to Hereis and Bishop Peressio, striving to maintain a composed expression.
As Hereis and Jeha, the very center of the scandal, stood facing each other, the intensity of the gazes and murmurs directed at them was immense.
“The two of you must have things to discuss, so let us withdraw, Peressio.”
Mrs. Fanucci stated, drawing Bishop Peressio away. Bishop Peressio gave Jeha another polite nod, as if in farewell, before disappearing into the crowd with Mrs. Fanucci.
The two men stood rooted, their eyes locked, natural smiles gracing their faces.
Mistress, lover, paramour.
Such words pierced through the murmurs of the crowd, yet Jeha paid them no mind. His heart was utterly captivated by Hereis, who stood alone beneath the dazzling lights, exuding an ascetic and pristine aura.
‘Ah, I must really like this person.’
Jeha suddenly realized, gazing at Hereis. Up until now, he had been busy calculating the demon world’s mating festival and Hereis’s true intentions.
But at this moment, he couldn’t deny it. Jeha was considerably—no, utterly—smitten with Hereis.
However beautiful Hereis might be, he was not an ideal partner for love.
He was a priest who had betrayed God, a murderer, and Jeha’s contractor. Yet, despite all this, Jeha genuinely liked him.
He liked Hereis’s incomparably ascetic and pristine beauty, the burning rage and hatred within him, and even his occasionally extreme personality. Every aspect that might be considered a flaw only endeared him further to Jeha.
‘Perhaps this is the power of infatuation,’ Jeha mused inwardly.
He then took Hereis’s hand, lifting it to plant a deep kiss on the back of his palm. It was unmistakably not a kiss of reverence for a clergyman, but an ardent, profound kiss befitting lovers.
Gasps and exclamations of admiration erupted from the crowd. When Jeha finally lifted his head from the rather prolonged kiss, Hereis was smiling, his sapphire-blue eyes sparkling brilliantly.
“Are you not fatigued? I have missed you greatly these past few days.”
Hereis spoke tenderly, then unhesitatingly pressed his lips to Jeha’s cheek. It was a light kiss, yet its impact was monumental.
In an instant, Hereis and Jeha had become the undeniable center of the party.
Hereis and Jeha moved through the party, inseparable. Most of the attendees sought to cultivate a relationship with either Hereis or Jeha.
There were also many noblewomen eager to converse directly with the protagonists of the scandal.
The two of them openly displayed their relationship, neither explicitly stating it nor attempting to conceal it. This was both genuine and, in part, a performance.
Even knowing there was an element of acting, Jeha felt immense pride in being able to so boldly showcase their bond.
In Encarosha—no, throughout the Central Continent—there would now be no one unaware that Hereis belonged to Jeha. The exhilaration this fact brought was boundless.
Jeha glanced at Hereis, who was busy responding appropriately to others’ questions, and thought: ‘I wish Hereis felt the same way about me.’
It seemed almost everyone who was expected had arrived.
****
The party truly began to blossom with the first dance.
The first dance partner for Miss Fanucci, the birthday girl, was already decided: her brother, Bishop Peressio.
The siblings began to dance in the center of the hall. Each time Miss Fanucci twirled, the tiara on her head scattered brilliant light.
Watching this, Jeha suddenly felt a pang of regret. He wished he had spent the money on Hereis’s gift instead, a wave of disappointment washing over him.
“Are you not fatigued?” Hereis murmured, inclining his head slightly to whisper into Jeha’s ear.
The brush of his breath against his ear was ticklish, causing Jeha to subtly shrug his shoulder.
“It has only been a few days since the incident. Even if you don’t feel tired now, it would be wise to rest periodically.”
Hereis continued to whisper in a gentle, soothing tone.
Jeha inwardly tutted at those who were shamelessly straining to eavesdrop on their whispers. Outwardly, of course, he smiled and nodded.
“Please guide us to a quiet place where we might rest,” Hereis requested, beckoning to a passing attendant.
The attendant, seeing Hereis and Jeha standing so closely, nodded and began to lead the way. Sticky, knowing glances clung to the pair as they, still pressed together, vanished from sight.
They were led to a modest reception room.
Though called a reception room, it featured a large, long couch, seemingly ample enough for the kind of activities people might anticipate. Of course, for two individuals who had already engaged in intimate physical contact in a much narrower carriage, the size of the room held little significance.
“We have matters of importance to discuss, so please ensure we are not disturbed,” Hereis instructed the attendant before the door closed.
The attendant nodded, then shut the door behind them.