Chapter 31
“Lord Abel?”
At the voice calling him, Abel turned away from the mirror.
The priests who came to assist him with dressing as soon as the sun rose bowed deeply and informed him that it was time to get dressed.
Even on ordinary days, attending to Abel’s appearance was the duty of the priests who served him at close range, but today there were more of them than usual.
Naturally so.
Today was the day on which the Invocations, the centerpiece of the prayer assembly, would take place, and Abel had to become the Herald of God from head to toe.
When he removed the thin robe he had been wearing, a pale, translucent body without a single scar or blemish was revealed.
Even as he bared his smooth, softened body—fresh from a long bath and anointed with fragrant oils—before five or six priests, Abel felt nothing.
Having spent his entire life being attended to by others, there was nothing to be embarrassed about.
The priests, keeping their gazes lowered as much as possible, helped Abel dress.
The garments layered upon him one by one were all white, yet rather than appearing modest, they embodied the height of extravagance.
Abel swept an indifferent gaze over the jewels adorning the robes and the painstaking embroidery stitched into every inch.
The multiple layers of clothing were already heavy enough, and with gemstones hanging everywhere, they became heavier still.
And that was not all. The sleeves were long enough to cover his hands entirely, and the golden mantle trailing behind him was profoundly inconvenient.
‘I have to move around in something this uncomfortable?’
He could not understand why such cumbersome, ostentatious attire was considered sacred and noble.
‘Is this simply Gregory’s taste?’
He wore these clothes every year, yet with each passing year they became more elaborate and less practical, and the amount of time required to dress him only continued to increase.
And was getting dressed the end of it? Of course not.
There was makeup and hairstyling as well.
The makeup was applied to emphasize the contours of his face while still maintaining a clear and pure appearance, meaning Abel could not even touch his face comfortably throughout the prayers. Even his hair, which was usually braided into a single plait, had been left loose and flowing, sure to get in his way and obstruct his vision.
Through the large mirror, Abel watched himself gradually being transformed into the Herald of God the Temple desired.
Luxurious adornments meant not for his Father, but for the Temple.
That was the very first thought that came to him the moment he saw himself.
Until now, Abel had considered it a reasonably fair exchange between the two parties.
So why was he suddenly thinking this way?
The answer did not come to him immediately, and he was not curious enough to dwell on it for long, so Abel simply turned his attention back to the mirror.
‘Did they do something to my hair too?’
His forehead was fully exposed, thanks to his bangs—normally forced down because people claimed he could not so easily reveal the sigil of the Father—being swept to the side. And whatever had been applied to his hair made it shimmer faintly whenever he moved.
Abel ignored the priests when they asked what he thought. It was not as though saying he was uncomfortable would change either the clothes or the hairstyle.
He flicked a hand, dismissing them.
“Oh, if Felix is outside, send him in.”
Unlike the priests, who had arrived at dawn and spent hours helping Abel prepare, Felix, being a holy knight, kept his usual working hours.
So even if he had not been here earlier, he should have arrived by now.
Just as Abel had expected, Felix entered the room. Abel watched as the priests bowed deeply to Felix as well before taking their leave.
After deliberately arranging several private meetings with Felix in full view of others, the clergy attending Abel had begun showing Felix proper respect as well.
Given enough time, every cleric in the Order would probably end up treating Felix with the same deference.
“You called for me, Lord Abel?”
Abel looked at Felix’s face, now carefully composed into a calm expression that concealed all the hostility it had held the day before.
At first, that kind of expression had irritated him, but now he was growing accustomed even to such a blatantly artificial facade.
He was also becoming increasingly confident that, whenever he wished, he could make Felix reveal his true temper.
“Felix, come here.”
When Abel waved his long, trailing sleeve, Felix obediently approached him.
“Closer.”
Abel crooked a finger once more at Felix, who had stopped three paces away.
The corners of Felix’s mouth stiffened ever so slightly, but only for an instant. The next moment, his smooth smile returned, and he walked right up to Abel.
“What do you think?”
Caught off guard by the sudden question, Felix answered in an emotionless voice, as though he had prepared the response in advance.
“You possess all the dignity befitting the Herald of God.”
“Not that.”
Lifting his chin slightly, Abel asked:
“It doesn’t look like I was injured, does it?”
Felix replied with a gentle smile.
“I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”
Ah, so he’s going to pretend he doesn’t know? But Abel was not about to let it go that easily.
“Take a closer look.”
Abel turned his head and showed him the inside of his mouth, where the injury remained.
Felix looked away several times, as though he did not want to see it, but when it became clear that Abel had no intention of dropping the matter, he reluctantly examined the wound.
“Do you think it’s healing well?”
His eyelids fluttered as he answered.
“…I have no idea how you managed to injure yourself like that.”
If he truly did not know, Abel could simply tell him.
“The kiss got a little rough.”
“…”
The smile vanished from Felix’s face, and he glared at Abel murderously.
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