Chapter 12: The Misunderstood Comfort
I knew my smile had to look painfully forced, the corners of my mouth stretched too tight while my golden eyes stayed locked on Lirian across the low table in my private chambers. Candlelight flickered over the heavy tapestries and the carved stone walls of the Grand Cathedral of Akadonia, casting long shadows that did nothing to ease the knot twisting in my chest. None of that mattered right now. Facts first. Whoever this woman was, some nameless creature bold enough to reach for what belonged to me, I would not let it pass without answers.
"Lirian," I said, keeping my voice soft and even, the way I always did when I wanted him to feel safe, "tell me everything about that story. Every last detail."
"Ah… it was really nothing much, Your Holiness…" His high voice wavered, hesitant, the way it always did when he felt cornered. He shifted on the cushioned bench, petite frame swallowed by his simple devotee robes, white hair catching the light like fresh snow.
A low chuckle slipped out of me before I could stop it, warm on the surface but edged with something sharper underneath. "Oh, it was something, little one."
He blinked those wide golden eyes at me, doll-like features pulling into open confusion. "No, really… I don't understand what's happening right now…"
My precious Lirian. So innocent it made my heart ache and burn at the same time. That pure expression of his, the one that had always been mine to protect, now made me wonder if some scheming knight had counted on exactly that softness to lure him in. The thought sent my teeth grinding together, a low scrape I felt all the way down my jaw.
I leaned forward slightly, the weight of my papal robes shifting over my shoulders. "When and where exactly did you meet her?"
"Uh, yesterday afternoon? In the private room at the Healing Sanctum…"
The Healing Sanctum. A private chamber there, no less. Not some commoner off the street, then. My fingers found the edge of the polished table and began tapping out a slow, restless rhythm, the sound sharp in the quiet room.
"And what is her position? What does this woman do?"
"Um… I think she's a knight…"
A knight. Either one of our battle-priests sworn to the Holy See or some noble-house retainer. Either way, the thought that one of our own would dare behave so shamelessly made my blood heat. The discipline among the knight orders clearly needed tightening, and soon.
I kept my tone light, almost conversational. "So what exactly did the two of you do?"
"I healed a wound on her abdomen."
"That was all?"
He brought a hand to his mouth, thinking hard, brows drawing together in that earnest little frown I adored. My tapping grew quicker, the impatience crawling under my skin like ants. In the sacred space of the Altar of Restoration, nothing beyond actual healing was permitted. He knew that.
"I… I did touch her abdomen a little?" he offered after a moment. "Her abs looked really impressive… heh…"
A soft, hesitant giggle escaped him, the sound light and boyish, carrying that endearing shyness that always tugged at something deep inside my chest. I forced my breathing steady. Medical necessity. Visual inspection of the injury was basic procedure. Touching the area to assess the wound was unavoidable. Yes. This was nothing more than professional duty. Nothing at all.
I let out a long breath that rattled through my lungs. "Was there anything else?"
"Uh… she took my hand…?"
My spine went rigid. "She took your hand?"
He nodded, still so guileless. "And… she grabbed my cheek too."
"She grabbed your cheek?" The words came out sharper than I intended, my voice cracking on the last syllable.
"Yes. It hurt a little."
I shot to my feet so fast the bench scraped backward across the stone floor. My fingers closed around his slender shoulders before I could think, feeling the delicate bones beneath his robes, the faint warmth of his skin, the way his petite frame seemed even smaller under my grip. My heart hammered against my ribs. I had not checked his curfew last night. He had looked exhausted, falling asleep almost the moment his head touched the pillow. What exactly had worn him out like that?
"Lirian…!" I managed, throat tight. "Look at me. That was everything, right? Just that?"
He tilted his head, golden eyes searching mine. "Well… I did offer her a bit of comfort…"
"Comfort?" The word landed like a blow to the stomach.
"Yes, comfort."
My knees buckled. I sank back down, the world tilting, my mind flooding white and empty for one terrifying heartbeat. The Church's sacred comfort. The term every knight, every priest, every woman in the Holy See understood when it came to rare males like Lirian. It meant bodies pressed together, skin on skin, the kind of intimate relief only a male devotee could provide. And he had given it. In the short time they were alone, he had crossed that line.
"…You're joking, right?" My voice sounded thin, distant.
"…It really happened…"
"You're joking, aren't you?" I reached out and caught the edge of his sleeve, clutching the fabric like a lifeline.
His golden eyes stayed steady, telling nothing but the truth. If every word was real, then my Lirian's first experience had been taken by some faceless knight in a Healing Sanctum chamber. A low, broken sound tore from my throat as pain lanced through my chest, squeezing until breathing became a struggle. My vision swam with ugly flashes of tangled limbs and sweat-slick skin that didn't belong to me. I pressed a hand to my mouth, fighting the wave of nausea that followed.
"Your Holiness!" Lirian's high voice rose in alarm as he scrambled closer.
"I'm… I'm fine…" I forced the words out, barely holding onto composure. No matter how wrecked I felt, I could not let him see weakness. Not him. Never him.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He hovered, worry plain on that doll-like face.
"Of course…" My eyes burned, tears threatening to spill. If I kept looking at him I would lose the battle. This small, precious boy I had sheltered and cherished since the world had grown so cruel to males like him, stolen in a single afternoon by some unknown woman. The day I had faced the Demon Lord himself had not hurt this badly.
"You look really pale…"
"Just a little dizzy, that's all…"
He reached up without hesitation and pressed the back of his hand to my forehead, checking my temperature the way I had taught him long ago. The simple gentleness of the gesture sent fresh anger surging through me, hot and bitter. Did he touch her like this too? Had he coaxed her with the same soft concern? Or had this been building for longer than I knew, some secret connection I had never been told about? So many questions burned on my tongue, but my body refused to let them out.
I couldn't hold it back any longer. A sob ripped free, raw and ugly, and I grabbed his sleeve tighter. "Lirian… why wasn't it me…?"
He blinked, startled. "Huh?"
"I'm only yours… only ever yours…" Another sob choked me, shoulders shaking. "What did that woman have that I don't…?"
"Lirian…?"
"Now that I've finally faced my own heart… now…" The words fractured. I pounded lightly against his narrow chest with the side of my fist, frustration and grief pouring out in hot tears that soaked into his robes. "You're so cruel, Lirian…"
Who could have guessed my sweet boy would be so light with his affections? If I had known he was this easy to sway, I would have claimed him first, long ago. But it was too late for regrets. From this moment on I would not hold back. As Pope of the Holy See I would summon him to my bed every single night and take every ounce of sacred comfort he could give. Not one day would I allow him near that knight again. She would pay dearly for stealing what was mine.
"Um, Your Holiness…? Sorry to interrupt, but…"
I sniffled hard, voice thick. "I don't want to hear it! That wicked woman turned me into a monster…!"
"No, I think you're misunderstanding something…"
"Was it really that sweet, rolling around with her? Sweet enough to forget every moment you've ever spent with me?"
"Rolling around…?"
"Yes! That sticky, heated, filthy sin where you explore each other's bodies! That's what I mean!"
"…What?"
"Pretending won't help! I already know everything!" I slid off the bench and dropped to the cool stone floor, knees hitting hard. I pressed my face into his small chest, burying myself in the faint, sweet scent of his skin, and let the sobs come without shame. God above, why have you given me this nightmare? If this is a dream, let me wake. Let me wake.
His hand came down gently on my back, patting in slow, soothing strokes. The touch was so kind it almost hurt more. Was he trying to charm me again, the way he must have charmed her?
"Have you calmed down a little, Your Holiness?"
I shook my head against him, voice muffled. "No… just a little longer. Let me stay like this…"
A gentle, uncertain chuckle rose from his throat, warm and reassuring in a way only he could manage. "As long as you want…"
I huffed, half laugh, half sob. He had no idea what he was doing to me. None at all. I tightened my arms around his waist, pulling his petite body closer until I could feel the quick flutter of his heartbeat through the thin fabric of his robes. His scent filled my lungs, sweet and familiar, the faint warmth of his frail chest pressing against mine. Why her and not me? If I had understood my own feelings even a little sooner, would today have ended differently?
"Um, Your Holiness… can I ask you something?"
I made a small, stubborn sound in my throat. "Hmph."
"What exactly is this… mixing bodies thing? The vulgar act you mentioned?"
I felt my temper flare again, sharp and immediate. "You're still going to play innocent all the way to the end?"
His golden eyes were wide and completely sincere, confusion written across every soft line of his androgynous face. The sight threw me. Was this masterful acting, or had I truly gotten everything wrong?
I swallowed hard. "Lirian… how are babies made?"
"Hm? Didn't you tell me the stork brings them?"
I managed a weak smile, the first real one in what felt like hours. "Yes… I'm glad you remember."
"Heh, right?" That same gentle, uncertain chuckle came again, soft and boyish.
The smile lingered, but it wasn't pure relief. Not yet. I pressed on, voice careful. "Then… why does the male part exist at all, Lirian?"
His cheeks flushed deep pink. "It's… embarrassing…"
"Tell me anyway."
"…For when you need to pee…?"
I sat there on the cold stone floor, arms still wrapped around my little devotee, and wondered what expression my face was wearing right now. A smile of pure relief, or the stunned bewilderment still spinning inside my skull? And what words had I just poured out to my pure, untouched Lirian? That question only Lirian himself could answer.