PMEVBO 117

I really don’t understand why the Pope is offering me tea.

“No, thank you. I don’t want to impose on Your Holiness any further.”

The Pope wasn’t the sort of person who would drag someone along for tea against their will. After all, that sort of thing was only possible if you had genuine concern and affection for the other person.

But I was taken aback by his response.

“It’s not imposing; it’s helping.”

“……Helping?”

“I’m not allowed to make tea myself.”

At that moment, I remembered the snide remark I’d made to ​Read on​him in the visiting room a few days ago.

‘……If you want tea, ask someone else to make it. Don’t do it yourself.’

Could he have figured out it was me……?

“Is that too much to ask?”

The Pope looked up at me and smiled gently.

…I guess not.

If he’d figured it out, it would have shown in his expression or tone of voice.

It was creepy how his mouth was smiling while his eyes were empty. But I’d never even received a smile as bizarre as that before.

I can’t even begin to imagine how much he wants to look like a good person to others…

If it were up to me, I’d jump out the window whether the Pope stopped me or not. But if I did something like that here, it would look way too suspicious. Besides…… if I didn’t make it for him, he’d just chug that tasteless stuff he brewed himself again.

I pulled my hat down further over my eyes and replied.

“…Not at all.”

I’d been speaking informally the whole time, switching to formal speech made me feel like I was about to break out in hives. But I didn’t want the Pope to find out about my escape under any circumstances. I knew exactly how he would react.

I was so desperate not to get caught that I deliberately acted slow.

“Um, Your Holiness… which tea set should I use?”

“Do whatever you like.”

“Then what kind of tea would you like to drink?”

“Whatever you think is good.”

…Seriously, is it enough just to sound sweet?

Just order something decent to eat. He sounded like a stuck-in-the-past boss putting his subordinates to the test with comments like that.

If I weren’t the one sitting here, they would have a hard time making a choice. But I knew better. I knew that boss was more easygoing than he appeared.

I just started brewing tea with whatever was within reach. The Pope silently watched me make the tea from the sofa. I didn’t really have anything to say either, so his silence was actually a relief.

The sound of boiling water filled the spacious room.

The Pope was the first to speak.

“I see you like sweet things.”

…What are you talking about? You’re the one who likes sweet things.

That’s why you always put so much sugar in your tea…

Only then did I realize what I was doing. The teacup filled with lemongrass tea was piled high with sugar that hadn’t even dissolved yet.

The Pope enjoyed drinking tea with a heaping amount of sugar. So, out of habit, I’d gone and made him a sugary cup of tea.

It was suspicious that a priest he had just met today would know the Pope’s tea preferences.

After freezing like a statue for a moment, I pulled the problematic sugary tea toward me.

“…Yes, I do.”

It was wrong. I don’t like sweet things. Even if I did, this is way too hardcore.

And what kind of priest would immediately help himself to his own portion right in front of the Pope…?

But I forced myself to act nonchalant and asked,

“Would you like some in yours too, Your Holiness?”

Far from taking issue with my earlier action, the Pope replied gently.

“No, that’s fine. I don’t like sweet things.”

…What?

I almost blurted out the question aloud.

Come to think of it, it seems like he only added sugar when he was alone with me…….

There was a limit to how much hypocrisy one could put on. What kind of person ate an entire cake by himself and then washed it down with tea loaded with sugar…? But I couldn’t bring myself to say that to his face.

“……Ah, I see.”

I had no choice but to hand the Pope a cup of lemongrass tea without sugar. Even with his beloved sugar right in front of him, the Pope didn’t touch it. …What a cruel man.

“Aren’t you going to drink it?”

“…No, I’ll drink it now.”

Ha, damn it. I was just going to brew the tea and leave… But in the end, I downed the sugary tea as if I were drinking poison. I didn’t have the nerve to sip it, so I just chugged it in one gulp.

Ah, it’s so damn sweet…

I’d rather drink poison than this. I wanted to down the rest of visit our site the tea in the pot right now and sterilize everything from my mouth to my stomach with boiling water.

“That was a nice cup of tea. Thanks to you, I think I’m sober now. I’ll take my leave so Your Holiness can rest in peace.”

Fortunately, the Pope didn’t stop me this time. Instead, he gave a hearty laugh and nodded.

“Yes, be careful on your way out.”

As soon as I heard the words I wanted to hear, I left the room without looking back.

***

I only realized that I’d done a stupid thing after slipping out of the Pope’s lounge and taking a few steps.

…Ah, why did I come out the door?

I should have just gone out the window.

If I had gone out through the bedroom’s terrace window like I did when I came in, I wouldn’t have had to walk through the hallway like this.

On the second floor below, there were as many as 100 rooms, so the hallway walls were covered with doors. In contrast, there were only about 20 rooms on the third floor, so it felt much cleaner. Yet, strangely enough, being on the third floor now felt much more disturbing.

…This won’t do. I’ll just go back and borrow the Pope’s bedroom window.

Just as I turned back toward the door, I bumped into someone. I must have been so distracted that I didn’t even realize there was someone behind me.

“I’m sor……”

Before I could even apologize, my hood was knocked off.

“I knew it.”

Atsula stared at my face with bloodshot eyes and muttered to himself.

…Why is this guy everywhere I go?

This is so annoying…

I’d already ran into Atsula three times since arriving at Chepony Castle. If the main quest had been to hunt this guy down, I would’ve cleared it much more easily. What a shame.

Atsula frowned and said,

“Hey, who wears a hood during a banquet? Do you think you’re some kind of thief?”

As Atsula said, it was rare to see anyone wearing a hood during the festival week. It was just as out of place as walking around a ball in a cloak. It was actually surprising that the Pope didn’t say a word about the hood and just let it slide.

I roughly smoothed my hair, which had gotten all messed up from the hood, and said,

“I suppose I can’t really argue if Archbishop Abet calls me a thief.”

“What…”

“The cigarette you left on the gravel path in Riel’s Garden. I thought you’d thrown it away, so I picked it up and smoked it, but now I see I misjudged the situation.”

I chuckled and continued.

“For the sake of a single cigarette, you have been chasing after a mere priest… I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were such a frugal person.”

I didn’t mean it. I was just trying to get under his skin.

Even so, Atsula remained calm.

“So you’re saying that what was in my mouth ended up in yours too?”

“Well, I suppose so……”

I replied half-heartedly. At that, Atsula just stared at the floor of the hallway.

…That’s good, I guess. I should go while I have the chance.

It was just as I reached the door to the Pope’s lounge that a sudden question reared its head.

…Why didn’t the Pope ask my name?

The Pope always asked people’s names when meeting them for the first time. It was like a rite of passage.

But I couldn’t dwell on the thought any longer. That was because Atsula suddenly grabbed my wrist. He pointed toward the Pope’s lounge, and asked,

“You’re going in?”

“Yes, well…”

Atsula gave a crooked smile.

“I was wondering why you were in such a hurry that you didn’t even wait for the doctor… I guess you had business with His Holiness?”

His grip tightened around my wrist. I felt the sudden urge to flex my muscles and show him what I was made of.

But something happened. Atsula’s face twisted into a look of disgust.

His gaze had shifted to the spot behind me.

“Shit…”

After cursing, he glanced at my face and then pulled the hood he’d taken off and placed it back on my head. I frowned, wondering what kind of trick this was.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Someone’s footsteps were getting closer and closer.

I could feel my heartbeat accelerating. I froze, unable to even turn around, like a moth caught in a spider’s web.

“May the blessings of the Creator God Debiamas be with you.”

There weren’t many people to whom Archbishop Abet had to bow his head in greeting. One was the Pope, enjoying tea in the lounge. And the other was…

The Cardinal.