Chapter 51
“Ah, no….”
“Don’t worry.”
Yoseph brushed aside Arzeletta’s hair with his fingertips as he continued speaking.
“You wanted to be here with me, in a place no one else ever looks at, didn’t you, Arzeletta?”
“……”
“Creatures like us won’t ever catch the eye of God, no matter what we do. Isn’t that right?”
Whether he had arrived at the same thought as Ragnar, the very proxy of God, Yoseph whispered that into Arzeletta’s ear.
“After all, the great God won’t bother to look at the likes of us.”
“…Still, we can’t.”
Arzeletta pulled away. Her movement was extremely cautious, but it was a clear rejection.
“Why not?”
“The Lord wouldn’t allow it. He is like a god. He knows everything. If he were to find out that we committed adultery without being married…”
“We don’t have any law to bind us anyway. But if that’s what’s on your mind, then we can just get married, Arzeletta.”
In the darkness, Yoseph’s eyes gleamed red. Desperation closely resembled greed.
“If you’d just say yes, we could do it as early as tomorrow.”
“……”
“No one will stop us from getting married. You know that.”
Arzeletta bowed her head without answering. Stop them? Everyone would laugh, jeer, and mock them joyfully as they offered their blessings.
“I’ll make you happy. I’ll be faithful to you, Arzeletta.”
“……”
“We only have each other. You know that, right?”
Yoseph was impatient. He didn’t know how to hide his feelings, nor did he feel the need to.
To Yoseph, the time spent waiting for Arzeletta in this darkness felt like an eternity.
She was the only beautiful being in the world that had ever been permitted to him. Even the filthy scar on her back that had caused the world to abandon her and label her a cursed being—it was perfect.
No, in this moment, Yoseph loved Arzeletta’s scar and his own back more than ever.
He knew all too well that it was precisely because she was a cursed existence that she could come into his world.
Looking into the desperate eyes that gazed at her, Arzeletta slowly shook her head.
When she did, Yoseph’s face took on a sorrowful expression.
“Why? You said you came because I called you, Arzeletta.”
“Yes.”
“Then say it clearly for me, Arzeletta.”
“You… called me, so I came.”
Like he was dreaming, Yoseph stroked Arzeletta’s lips with his hand. He gazed at the lips that said the words he longed to hear, as if in a dream. Arzeletta was Yoseph’s dream.
Entrusting her lips to his hand, Arzeletta continued speaking.
“I wanted to get closer to the Lord, to be somewhere near him…”
“What?”
Startled by Arzeletta’s words, Yoseph turned her body toward him.
As he slowly examined the woman’s ever-composed face, Yoseph’s expression twisted and he began to laugh.
“What are you saying, Arzeletta?”
“……”
“You came here to meet the Lord?”
In the darkness of the slaughterhouse, the hunchback’s laughter echoed.
Ragnar did not feel like laughing. The beautiful tongue and lips of the woman, being toyed with by the hands of a lowborn man, were calling to him. That foolish tongue, knowing no falsehood, had so purely spoken his name.
Arzeletta remained unshaken. After laughing for a while, Yoseph abruptly stopped and looked at her with serious eyes.
“My God, Arzeletta. Are you serious?”
“……”
“What do you want to do after meeting the Lord?”
At that question, Arzeletta lifted her gaze. In this gloomy and damp space, it seemed only the woman’s eyes held color and light.
Yoseph spoke as if coaxing her, in a tone that sounded almost sympathetic.
“Arzeletta. Come to your senses.”
“……”
“He’s a god. We can’t even appear before the Lord.”
Lord Ragnar was so great that Yoseph felt neither jealousy nor suspicion.
“We are cursed.”
“……”
“But if we stay here, maybe—just once—we might get to see him.”
Yoseph nodded and stroked his chin.
“If that’s the case, maybe we could even ask for a blessing.”
“……”
“If one day he forgives you, Arzeletta.”
Arzeletta looked at Yoseph with sadness in her eyes, as if moved by the sincere sympathy he showed her. Her lips parted as if to say something, but then closed again.
Ragnar turned away at that moment.
The great Holy Knight, who had never feared any formidable foe or peril, now looked as if he were fleeing—trying to escape from something.
Because she wanted to get closer to the Lord.
To be somewhere near…
Ragnar pressed his lips tightly together.
Discussion
0 CommentsReactions
No comments yet.