Chapter 2
1. Declaration
The time Abel returned to was three years ago. Naturally, he was still living at the temple.
“Lord Abel!”
Abel looked down, bored, at the nobles who hurriedly bowed their heads and pressed their lips to his shoes.
“The Father’s blessing shall find you.”
Even though his words were utterly dry, devoid of a shred of feeling, the nobles were overcome with emotion and began praying fervently at his feet.
Abel turned his gaze to the window, uninterested.
Life as the Herald of God was tedious.
Abel had never found life particularly joyful or fulfilling, but after spending a year outside the temple before returning, it now felt even duller — tediously so.
Not that he’d been treated well in the outside world. Having lost his divine power while enduring the Father’s trial, he’d lived in complete disgrace.
People believed Abel had committed a grave sin and was being punished by the Father. That belief bred not only avoidance but a kind of righteous cruelty; some even thought it their duty to condemn Abel in the name of divine justice.
He’d rolled through mountain forests in the dark, dodging stones. He’d fallen asleep in tattered robes, unwashed and barely conscious, only to wake again and again to an irritated voice.
And yet, if someone were to ask whether he longed for those days… Abel might not say yes. But he would admit this: there was one man he missed.
That man who would wake him with a scowl when he didn’t get up.
That man who found even the act of touching him distasteful.
‘Rya—Felix.’
The shock of being deceived with a false name just before the man died had, at the very least, burned one truth into Abel’s memory.
‘Felix. Felix. Felix…’
Not ‘that man,’ but Felix.
And just then, outside the window, he saw Felix.
To be honest, Felix had been standing there for quite some time. Abel was only just now realizing who he was.
How could he not recognize the one he loved? Even Abel couldn’t help it.
‘He really went all out, didn’t he?’
Felix’s appearance, so meticulously put together, was unfamiliar to Abel.
The Felix he remembered had once been radiant — blond hair gleaming, eyes clear as the sky — but by the later days, hardship had dulled that brilliance.
And whenever Felix had looked at Abel, it was always with a face clouded by exhaustion, frustration, or outright resentment.
Now, with his expression carefully blank and a meaningless smile plastered on his face, he looked like a stranger.
If Felix hadn’t let that flicker of irritation slip through while speaking to the person in front of him, Abel might never have realized it was him.
‘What are they talking about?’
Felix was smiling sweetly, but even so, Abel could feel the quiet fury leaking from him.
If there was one thing Abel could read better than anyone else, it was Felix’s negative emotions.
He’d been on the receiving end of them, day in and day out, for a year.
Felix’s voice was gentle, and his lips were curled prettily. His gaze, soft and attentive. But no matter how much polish he’d put on, his true feelings seeped out in the smallest ways — just enough for Abel to catch.
“Mmm.”
Abel raised a hand to his lips. The corners were turned up. He realized that he was smiling.
Even after recognizing him, Abel’s smile didn’t fade — it only deepened.
“…Ah, Lord Abel?”
The novice priest who had followed him in to assist faltered at the sight of Abel’s uncharacteristic smile, but Abel paid him no mind. He kept his eyes fixed solely on Felix as he ended the prayer with a quiet command.
“That’s enough for now.”
The gathered nobles looked disappointed, but Abel’s tone left no room for argument. Reluctantly, they began backing away.
“Lord Abel…”
Abel raised a hand and gently covered the priest’s mouth.
“Quiet.”
In the eyes of a man newly in love, only one person existed. Only Felix.
Every time Felix slipped into a familiar expression — those little glimpses of the person Abel remembered — Abel felt a fresh wave of affection rise within him. Beaming, he simply watched. And only when Felix finally bowed politely and took his leave did Abel wipe the smile from his face.
Having stared only at Felix the entire time, Abel finally turned his attention to the man Felix had been speaking with.
‘Who is he?’
Judging by the outfit and sword, he seemed to be a paladin, but beyond that, Abel had no way of guessing his identity.
Not that it was surprising — aside from the Pope and the three High Priests, Abel had almost no memory of people’s faces.
“Lord Abel—”
The priest, signaling that the next noble was ready, received another indifferent greeting from Abel.
“Let us pray to the Father.”
Then the noble knelt before Abel and began to pray.
Abel listened to the prayer with one ear while the other ear let it slip by, his thoughts drifting to Felix’s creased, delicate brow.
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