FPML 67

Chapter 67

Even after a person leaves, their scent lingers in the place they stayed. Especially in a confined space like a confessional booth.

The confessional, made of dark wood, carried a faint trail of perfume.

It was a strange mix of sharp, peppery notes, the lingering scent of a cigarette, and the fragrance of blooming lilies. Somehow, it felt like a scent a mature noblewoman would wear rather than a young girl.

‘Maybe I started off on the wrong track.’

Marien quietly rolled her eyes and knelt on the cushion.

‘After smelling the scent of a winter snowfield, I can detect all sorts of fragrances. Maybe I should’ve gone into the perfume business as a side hustle. By now, I’d probably be a famous name in the empire and making a fortune.’

Because she had gone all-in on Baileon alone, she now found herself in a place still carrying another woman’s scent, trying to execute her beauty scheme.

‘I don’t regret going all-in on Baileon’s stocks… but still…’

Marien looked past the lattice partition.

‘How did things end up like this?’

Where had it all gone wrong? She had come to probe Lesley under Odette’s orders, having vowed not to get personally involved.

Soon, she feared, she might find herself next to Emperor Odette, smiling faintly like a fly buzzing around, rubbing her hands together.

Next to Emperor Odette Rose were always the loyal and devoted Prime Minister Baileon Beers and the clown Marien Didi.

Suddenly, a sentence like a bard’s song popped into her mind:

“When you are ready, speak, sister. I will wait here.”

Lesley, visible only in profile through the partition, spoke. That line sounded almost priestly. She could act so calmly because she didn’t yet know Marien was inside the confessional.

But could she remain so composed even when hearing about a dead first love?

“I confess my sins.”

Long ago, Odette’s mother had told her young daughter a story about a boy, and the grown-up Odette had passed it along to Marien.

“Let’s see if Father Anais has any sense of sincerity,” she had said.

“Then recount the story exactly as you just heard it…”

“No. Start from Anais’s perspective. That will be better.”

Marien began the story she had prepared.

“My family serves a master. The master is highly respected and extremely strict. Yet, I secretly helped a prisoner escape whom the master had confined as punishment.”

Marien paused, carefully observing Lesley’s expression.

The moment she spoke, Lesley likely recognized Marien as the believer outside the window and understood who the ‘master’ really was.

In terms of reaction, Lesley’s expression remained unchanged.

“During that process, I harmed a few guards. The prisoner fled far under my protection and began living under a false identity. Meanwhile, my master and family, unaware of my help, were busy condemning the prisoner.”

Marien stopped again, staring intently at Lesley. He spoke.

“I am listening, sister.”

“Just before parting from the prisoner, a moment keeps replaying in my mind. The prisoner, betrayed by the first and only person he trusted, had eyes like a wounded beast. He asked me why I was helping him.”

“…”

“What do you think I answered?”

Marien asked, testing him. His reply came in the form of a question.

“…What did you answer?”

Slippery as an eel. Marien clenched her hands together tighter.

“I said that it was just that the first person I loved happened to be a prisoner. Upon hearing that, he made a complicated face, said my judgment was poor, and stumbled away into the darkness.”

“I see.”

“Father, what do you think? Would God forgive my sins?”

This time, he couldn’t counter-question. He had to give some kind of answer. Marien waited.

“My opinion is irrelevant to confessing sins and receiving forgiveness. I merely serve God and convey His will. However, if you truly repent, His benevolent heart will surely forgive you.”

Marien pressed her lips together to keep from making a dissatisfied sound.

Today, Lesley seemed unusually convincing as a religious figure. He spoke like a genuine priest comforting a believer.

‘Even though he’s wearing that ridiculously tight priest robe…’

From the side, she noticed the row of buttons straining especially at the chest, as if trying to hold the fabric together while it pulled in opposite directions.

She had expected it, but even in the temple, he wore that outfit. Thinking back to the middle-aged female priest she had encountered earlier, she sighed. She had to treat someone who modified their priest robe and carried unsavory rumors as a colleague. It must be tough for her.

“Setting God’s will aside… what would you have done if it were your case?”

“What do you mean?”

“The prisoner was someone who, if tried, would have been sentenced to death. Could you betray your master and family for such a person?”

Lesley remained silent for a while. Marien watched him, motionless beyond the lattice. How long had they been silent?

Lesley slowly turned to face her.

“Ah, I yield.”

He said.

“I can feel the heart of the Fourth Princess. Sending such a charming sister for a mere priest like me.”

Lesley’s eyes gleamed as he laughed.

“Did you expect something to happen to me inside?”

Finally, it seemed that the cunning and lascivious cultist Lesley Anais had returned. Despite hearing threats in a smiling face, Marien strangely felt reassured.

“And today, you’ve dressed up specially to my taste. Round glasses, so cute.”

“That’s your taste? I thought you only dealt with lonely noblewomen with high breasts above the neckline.”

“Don’t speak poorly of them. They are people enduring daily life submerged in swampy loneliness and tears. I merely comfort those suffering as God’s servant.”

Her brief relief vanished. Marien was exasperated at the shameless answer. Truly, brazen behavior should have limits.

“I wasn’t speaking poorly of noblewomen. I’m talking about you, Father Anais.”

“Charming sister.”

Lesley moved his hands from below her line of sight. The thick lattice slid down smoothly, leaving only half of the partition where Marien’s hands were clasped. Her eyes widened.

“Same hair, same glasses as the first time we met, but your temper remains that of Didi sister.”

“What… did you do?”

“This?”

Lesley looked down at the disappearing lattice, as if it were nothing.

“You seem unfamiliar with the temple. Of course, you’re busy, but come more often. You would have realized it sooner.”

Marien had never heard of a confessional with such a mechanism. Was she ignorant?

No. It probably existed only in Lesley’s temple. Perhaps this was his personal confessional.

Marien stared at the lowered lattice. Only now did she appreciate its value.

‘There’s a huge difference between having it and not having it.’

In the narrow booth, if Lesley reached out, he could touch her. Naturally, if Marien struck, he would get a bruise over his eye.

“Anyway, Fourth Princess Rose is as cold-hearted as befits the Rose imperial family. How hard Sir Beers works for you… and yet you sent such a cute sister to me.”

“You keep saying ‘sent’—it sounds strange.”

Marien looked at him, demanding clarity.

“It wasn’t a gift from Her Highness. She sent me to ask you something. And… Sir Beers already knows.”

“Poor fellow.”

Lesley made an inappropriate sign of the cross.

“May God soothe the wounded soul of our Prime Minister Beers.”

“He’s not even dead, why the fuss?”

Had it been another priest, it would be comforting, but coming from Lesley, it sounded like a playful curse.

“Ah, Sir Beers’ heart has essentially already died. We’re alone in this small space. He’s only pretending to be okay under the Fourth Princess’s command.”

It wasn’t entirely untrue, which made her more annoyed.

Marien told him to stop bringing up Baileon. When she pressed him to answer her question, Lesley laughed delightedly.

“I’ve been through many interrogations, but never with someone so reckless.”

Clearly, he was teasing her. The snake-like priest even pretended to wipe tears from the corner of his eye.

“Nothing you could call a technique either.”

This cultist.

“Merely being as pretty as a clover won’t do.”

Was he insulting her intelligence?

“Sent by the daughter of the kingdom’s top spy… doesn’t quite fit. Yet somehow, it stirs my heart.”

Marien relaxed her furrowed brow. Lesley’s comment acknowledged Odette’s biological mother, Sevril Harun.

“…Just now.”

“The Fourth Princess probably realized that too. A brilliant woman. Left an absurd gift for the Rose family, who would have ruined the country if left alone.”

Lesley smiled, sharply mocking the royal family. From outside, anyone could accuse him of treason.

In a world flooded with endless informants, Marien couldn’t help but notice the soundproofing.

Apparently, she had shown it. Lesley tapped the confessional wall to reassure her.

A solid sound, not the hollow echo of wood.

“Don’t worry. Even if you scream with all your might, nothing outside can be heard.”

“What… kind of confessional is this?”

Marien unclasped her hands and lightly touched the half partition between them.

“That doesn’t mean you can touch it anywhere. Kneeling here, the floor might collapse if you do.”

What? Shouldn’t that have been told sooner? She withdrew her hand. Lesley’s laughter grew.

“Truly, a heart-stopping person.”

“Stop the nonsense.”

Marien said.

“That night, 23 years ago, you rescued the heavily pregnant Sevril Harun from the tower—are you sure?”

“Eve.”

Lesley whispered, a trace of nostalgia in his voice.

“She introduced herself as Eve.”