Chapter 184
“…Ashtel.”
“…Yes.”
“I don’t believe in things like love.”
Ashtel blinked slowly.
Her long, flawless eyelashes fluttered twice as a demon’s tear fell on Payne’s cheek.
“Why?”
“Because I decided not to.”
“…Because I’m a demon?”
Payne looked up, staring at Ashtel’s broken expression—one unlike any demon’s face.
“I’m just a human like that.”
“But…”
Humans are creatures that love deeply, get attached easily, and break just as easily.
Humans are more emotional than demons—how could he say that?
“And like you said, you’re a demon.”
This time, no tears fell.
Ashtel sniffled and rubbed her eyes.
“How can I believe in the love of a succubus?”
That was Payne’s answer about Ashtel’s feelings.
How could he trust her? How could he accept her as a succubus?
Ashtel knew Payne wouldn’t gently accept her.
He was a priest, and she was a succubus—it was naturally difficult.
But she was the cherished youngest of eleven sisters, loved deeply. She could have anything she wanted, and kept trying until she got it.
Though she was always anxious around Payne, she clung to hope he’d eventually notice her. Being together physically suggested it was more than just hope.
‘But apparently, it’s not.’
Payne’s heart crumbled even more. Because of her.
Ashtel recalled her conversation with Roman.
Duke Panchest’s son. The priest sought by Pope Serena.
If even the Pope intervened, perhaps they could break Payne’s curse. Maybe even calm the overreaction to the pheromones.
Since Duke Panchest was a great noble, gathering talented wizards like Roman might lead to a cure.
Now that Payne’s background was clear, his chances of survival had improved considerably.
Ashtel slowly let go of Payne.
Still wiping tears, she stepped back hesitantly.
“Payne, will you trust me if I prove my love?”
He didn’t answer.
She wondered if this was how it would always be, and closed her weary eyes as usual.
“I’ll let you go.”
But then he looked at her again.
“I’ll take you to the temple. Your curse won’t be broken without the Pope.”
“…That means…”
“Return to Medialle.”
She hoped he’d recover there.
“I… I really…”
I like you. Ashtel couldn’t say the words. If she spoke more, she feared breaking down in tears.
She closed her eyes tightly like Payne had, then looked at him again.
His clothes were disheveled, his body covered in what looked like half-applied ointment, and his hands and feet were red and swollen from rough ropes.
Looking again, Payne wasn’t whole anywhere.
Ashtel whispered goodbye and cast a spell.
“Goodbye, Payne.”
Sorry I loved you.
When he woke up, the rest he so desperately sought would be waiting.
* * *
“My baby.”
Payne did not rely on love. It wasn’t because he thought depending on others’ affection was weakness.
“My lovely baby.”
He had never experienced it—couldn’t believe it.
Love was a mirage he could never hope for. Reach out and it vanished; try to hold it and it teased just out of reach.
Watching it made him painfully aware of his misery.
“You weren’t supposed to be born like this.”
Payne’s earliest memory was his father hitting his mother.
His father abused her even before Payne was weaned. Tired of her begging for love, she left when Payne was two.
His mother went mad when the father disappeared—sometimes comforting Payne, sometimes blaming him.
Though she never raged violently like his father, the words she spoke pierced like weapons.
“You’re Payne. My greatest pain. Our misfortune. I’d be happier if you weren’t here.”
She cried this every day before him.
Before he could think normally, the only thing he could do was hold and comfort her. But when she pushed him away, he could only watch.
Still, Payne believed his mother loved him.
Because after all, she was his mother, and when she wasn’t thinking of his father, she whispered she loved him.
When Payne was four, he was abandoned at Medialle’s gates.
His mother was later found hanging in the house where she lived with Payne, six years after she left him.
In hardship, he told himself she’d return someday, but gave up on love.
His father abandoned his mother, and his mother abandoned him.
“How could I believe that?”
Even the easiest people to love didn’t love each other. How could he believe in love?
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