“Did he, by any chance, offend you, Jeha?” Hereis broke his silence, finally asking. The ‘he’ likely referred to Benato.
“Well, if you say so, then yes, and if not, then no,” Jeha replied vaguely, stroking Kkamangi. He added, “Thanks to your timely arrival, Hereis, I avoided an awkward situation. I quite like my current status, so I wasn’t keen on causing any trouble in this identity. I simply don’t want to deal with any unnecessary hassles.”
While it wouldn’t have escalated to something as drastic as outright killing everyone, tampering with Benato’s memories would inevitably create subtle discrepancies. To ensure perfection, he would have had to manipulate the memories of Benato’s entire entourage and anyone else involved in the incident. It would have been an utterly troublesome and vexing task. Of course, judging by Benato’s gaze from earlier, it was a matter that could just as easily be resolved with money.
“But why did you come all the way here?” Jeha asked, resting his elbow on the table and propping his chin in his hand, expressing his confusion without reservation. “If you’d simply waited patiently at the Grand Temple, as I wrote in my letter, I would have come to you. Wouldn’t that have been more advantageous for you, as Archbishop Hereis?” He had already paid the price Jeha demanded. It would have been perfectly acceptable for him to simply wait and receive the Marquis of Belgarga’s visit.
“It’s not that I didn’t consider that,” Hereis replied. “However, my body simply moved on its own out of sheer delight. I couldn’t bear to sit and wait; I yearned to see you even a moment sooner.”
For a moment, Jeha almost lost his balance, his arm nearly slipping from under his chin.
Hereis’s words always carried a strange potential for misunderstanding. Despite having met him numerous times, Jeha still couldn’t tell if he was deliberately flirting, or simply expressing his pure thoughts without any ulterior motive.
Come to think of it, it was the same when he was ordered to lick Jeha’s feet. Instead of merely licking the top of his foot, Hereis’s tongue had traced every inch of his foot, between his toes, and up to his ankle with a persistence and subtlety that bordered on the sexually suggestive.
‘Hey, are you flirting with me right now? Are you interested in me?’ Jeha’s mouth itched to ask outright. Yet, considering his dignity as a Demon King—no, as a man—he forcefully suppressed the urge. If, by some slim chance, Hereis’s words were truly innocent, how could he possibly endure the embarrassment?
“…Hmph.” Jeha idly tapped the teacup with his fingers, letting out a small snort.
“Are you not pleased to see me, Jeha?” Hereis inquired, having apparently interpreted Jeha’s snort in some way. Instead of answering, Jeha changed the subject.
“If people found out you rushed out to greet the Marquis of Belgarga, wouldn’t it tarnish the reputation for purity and integrity you’ve cultivated all this time?”
At Jeha’s words, Hereis offered a faint, wry smile. “The moment I summoned you, Jeha, I long ago cast aside any pretense of purity or asceticism as a clergyman. The person I am now is more worldly than anyone, willing to use any means necessary to achieve my goals. It was precisely through such means that I obtained the position of Archbishop.”
Despite his words, Hereis, seated before Jeha, still appeared like an angel or a saint from a painting. The abundant divine power residing within him had not diminished in the slightest.
Even though Hereis had completely turned his back on God, the divine love and favoritism directed towards him showed no signs of abating. For Hereis, this seemed to be one of the factors that fueled his anger and hatred for God’s sake. However, Jeha felt he could somewhat understand God’s sentiment. Hereis was indeed a man beautiful enough to be loved and favored by God—assuming, of course, that God also judged based on human appearance.
‘What good does that do, though? In the end, Hereis chose me over you,’ Jeha muttered inwardly to a God whose existence he still wasn’t sure of. Despite being a Demon King, the concept of God, which he had never truly considered before, suddenly piqued his interest.
“So, what can I do for you now? Tell me anything you desire from the Marquis of Belgarga.”
“Will you grant me everything I desire?”
‘Everything he desires’ was a remarkably comprehensive phrase. Jeha wondered what outlandish and significant demand he was about to make, prompting such a question.
Jeha paused for a moment, then recalled Hereis kneeling before him, unreservedly licking his feet, and nodded. At Jeha’s assent, a smile spread through Hereis’s eyes.
“You might regret that answer,” Hereis said, a warning veiled as a caution. Yet, for a man, his word was as weighty as a thousand pieces of gold.
“Just tell me what it is. Though I doubt there’s anything I can’t do.”
Jeha spoke with considerable confidence. Living as the Marquis of Belgarga, he had grown quite accustomed to his existence as the Demon King, and his self-assurance had consequently blossomed.
“I…” Hereis trailed off, slowly extending his hand across the table. He then gently placed his hand over Jeha’s, which rested near the teacup.
The moment the soft, warm hand made contact, a jolt of electricity surged through him. He couldn’t discern whether it was a repulsive force generated by touching powerful divine energy, or simply the sensation of physical contact with another person.
“I desire all of the Marquis of Belgarga.”
“…All of me?” Jeha asked, raising one eyebrow slightly at the unexpected declaration.
As expected, Hereis had a habit of speaking ambiguously.
“Are you saying you want to strip the Marquis of Belgarga bare?” Jeha asked, seeking clarification. Hereis nodded, then spoke again.
“A deep personal connection with the Marquis of Belgarga, full political and financial support from the Marquis of Belgarga, and…” What he had already listed was tantamount to stripping the Marquis bare. Yet, he still added “and.”
“And?” Jeha prompted, urging him to continue.
“I would like you to become my official lover.”
“……?!” This time, Jeha’s arm finally slipped from under his chin.
He had to struggle desperately to avoid making a foolish expression. His mind was already a chaotic tangle, like a ball of yarn hopelessly knotted.
Various pieces of information he had picked up from his previous world flashed through his mind. Priests who had dedicated themselves to God were supposed to maintain their purity. However, that was merely the story for the deeply devout. Many priests secretly indulged in homosexual relationships or kept mistresses outside the church. Hadn’t even a certain Pope kept a mistress and raised children with her? They didn’t even bother to conceal such things.
Human life, in all its forms, tended to be quite similar. It was likely that the priests here were no different. Many high-ranking clergymen probably used their ample wealth to purchase mansions outside the temple, establishing households with their mistresses. Homosexuality, too, could be expected to be rampant.
“Are you… are you asking me, the Marquis of Belgarga, to become your mistress?” Jeha asked, unable to conceal his bewildered expression. Hereis frowned slightly.
“A mistress? How could I possibly burden you with such a vulgar title, Jeha? I am simply asking you to become my lover.”
“It’s the same thing,” Jeha retorted immediately. Hereis’s expression subtly clouded.
“…You are right, Jeha. No matter how passionately we might claim to be lovers, in the eyes of others, we would simply be called ‘mistress’ and pointed at.”
‘Now, knowing that, are you still asking me to be your mistress?!’ Jeha felt a surge of annoyance, and his expression naturally soured.
After a brief silence, Hereis gently took Jeha’s hand again and began to speak. “Although I hold the position of Archbishop, your status, Jeha, is by no means inferior. And while my family is renowned for its wealth, it cannot compare to the Marquisate of Belgarga.”
“……”
“A mistress is a term used to describe someone who relies on a wealthy and high-ranking individual. So, might I suggest we think of it differently? Instead of you becoming my mistress, I would become yours. Anyone who sees me, Hereis, receiving the full support of the Marquisate of Belgarga, would surely perceive me as your mistress.”
His words were persuasive.
The Marquisate of Belgarga was indeed one of the wealthiest on the continent, and its long history made it a deeply established house. If the Marquis of Belgarga were to offer Hereis comprehensive support in various aspects, their private relationship would undoubtedly lead to Hereis being labeled the Marquis’s mistress.
Jeha, who had been inwardly nodding in agreement, suddenly snapped back to reality. He removed his hand from his chin and asked, “No, setting that aside, why do we even need to be lovers?”
“Because I need a lover.”
“So, why do you need one?”
At Jeha’s repeated question, Hereis cast his eyes down slightly. Jeha was rather susceptible to that sight, with Hereis’s beautiful silver eyelashes standing out. He couldn’t tell if Hereis knew this and did it on purpose, or if it was merely a habit.