Red Riding Hood - Chapter 43

Quiel was inwardly flustered but approached her while keeping his emotions hidden.

“Cinq, come in. I’ve been expecting you.”

Cinq lifted her lovely, water-like blue eyes to look up at him and then asked nonchalantly,
“Priest, why is there a lamb here?”

“…There’s a use for it.”

Cinq…

It seems you have quite a talent for lying!

Lowering his head toward his charming little liar, he spoke,

“Cinq. My sinful purity, my tainted lamb. Tell me, how is the light of your soul today? Did you, perhaps, commit a sin last night that cannot be spoken of to others?”

He was fully prepared—to hear her confession, forgive her with all his heart, and welcome her as a new resident of the village.

“My dear Cinq, do you not find yourself in need of someone’s forgiveness?”

But surprisingly, it seemed Cinq had a remarkable gift for deceit.

Looking up at him with an innocent expression, she replied,

“Priest, I don’t need forgiveness. I didn’t do anything wrong last night.”

It was a moment he was grateful for the white goat mask—it concealed the shock and anger that turned his face pale.

Something had gone wrong. His devilish plan had faltered, but he couldn’t discern why!

Gazing deeply into her transparent eyes, he finally managed to ask,

“Then, Cinq, why have you come to see me today?”

Without hesitation, she answered,

“Vinya is dead.”

He couldn’t respond.

Cinq, Cinq.

Are you… lying to me?

To collect himself, he clasped his hands, pressing his fingertips together, and took a deep breath. Finally, he spoke slowly,

“I see. My dear Cinq, how did the brothel keeper die?”

Cinq boldly lied.

“It seems a wolf took her.”

Quiel’s face turned an even deeper shade of blue as he stood speechless.

Cinq, Cinq.

I know you well.

You are the purest, most innocent being I have ever known. There’s no way you could commit murder and remain so calm.

I saw the marks you left on the old hag’s corpse. The wicked brothel keeper died from poison. Who but you could have slipped poison into the cautious hag’s wine?

A wolf took her?

Last night, I dug into the frozen ground and buried her body for your sake. And now you tell such a blatant lie!

In desperation, he reached out.

“Cinq, is that true?”

Just as his fingers were about to graze her soft cheek, Cinq said sweetly,

“Priest, now that Vinya is dead, I’m free.”

He felt his breath catch.

Free?

Cinq, you foolish child!

Do you think you can escape this village? Escape me?

Suppressing his rage, he asked,

“Free? Cinq, is that what you wanted?”

“Of course.”

Cinq nodded.

“Now, no one can take off my red hood.”

His vision turned crimson with fury.

He shouted,

“Cinq! Freedom, you say?!”

Grabbing her hand firmly, he pulled her close, drawing it under his goat mask and into his mouth.

Cinq,

You could never imagine how much I had longed to touch your hand. My sinful purity had desired you to an unbearable extent.

He wished he could become a soft dandelion, blown into the sky by her gentle touch, or the reed carried by her hands. He wanted to be a basket she could hold or even a cushion she could embrace.

Anything, as long as he could hold her hand beneath the sun without hesitation!

But instead, here he was, clinging miserably to the traces of sin left on her fingertips, reduced to a pitiful inquisitor.

“Priest…!”

Cinq screamed, pulling back in fear.

Quiel licked his lips. Her fingers were so tender, they felt like they might melt on his tongue, and they tasted as sweet as honey. It was a sweetness that could only be described as sinful.

“Cinq, you charming little liar. You’ll come back to me in the end.”

She glanced at him with frightened eyes before turning and fleeing.

Would it have been better to let her go?

But he was seething with anger and trembling with uncontrollable excitement.

He commanded,

“Chase her. Bring her back to me.”

The dogs rushed after her, and he turned back, drained. Returning to his room, he collapsed onto his bed. A wave of exhaustion washed over him, and he sank into a sleep as deep as death.