Chapter 42
At first glance, looking at Payne’s distressed expression, Ashtel felt a sense of relief.
‘He won’t talk anymore, then.’
But she was mistaken.
The maids, each cutely wrapping something in handkerchiefs, handed their gifts to Payne.
“Father Payne.”
They even attached shy smiles to their youthful faces as they placed the gifts in the bewildered Payne’s hands and whispered,
“Congratulations on being chosen for the hymn ceremony.”
“We baked these cookies ourselves.”
“Uh?”
Before he could respond, they hurried out of the room.
Why were they so pleased, giggling among themselves as they scampered away? Ashtel’s anger surged.
“Shoo!”
What were they doing? How dare they give something to my Payne?
Not content with wagging their tails, they also handed over peculiar snacks as gifts.
Whether Ashtel fumed or not, Payne stared blankly at the cookies wrapped in the fragrant handkerchief.
“…Damn it.”
Eventually, he sighed heavily and shoved the maids’ gift deep into his sleeve. Ashtel stopped her furious prancing when a sudden expletive burst out.
Maybe because the women had lingered. Payne groaned deeply, pressing down on his g***n.
‘What to do. Payne is suffering.’
Her jealousy quickly subsided. Ashtel, not knowing what to do, hovered near Payne.
“Huff, hoo…”
He seemed to be leaking fluid intermittently, he trembled and bowed his head.
If he could just relieve himself once, he’d be alright.
‘If he stays like this, he’ll ruin the ceremony.’
This wouldn’t do.
With some time still left, Ashtel resolved to transform back into a maid and return here.
Just as she was about to back away, a familiar voice rang out.
“Are you alright, Priest?”
She whirled around in shock.
This time, the bothersome knight, Duvalkan, had come to visit.
Sensing an intrusion into his territory, Payne instantly removed his hand from his g***n and sighed deeply.
Regardless, Duvallan approached with a friendly smile, seemingly having encountered the giggling maids.
“I saw a group of maids passing by earlier.”
“….Yes, nothing special happened.”
“Are you sweating now? Can you even stand in front of the altar?”
Payne did not respond.
He simply felt a sense of shame and bit his lip hard.
“The confusion might be because of those women earlier…”
“Sir Duvalkan, I’ve asked you not to worry about this before.”
“But I can’t help being concerned.”
Something about the conversation was off.
Ashtel hid her body behind something like a statue and perked up her ears.
‘That Duval, he might know about Payne’s condition…’
“There seems to be something odd.”
“What is it?”
“Payne, were you here?”
However, the conversation was cut short.
It seemed that the start of the event was imminent, as a cardinal peeked through the door and gestured to him.
“Are you ready? Let’s get moving.”
“Understood.”
As if he had never had an e–ction, Payne quickly composed himself and strode off.
His inside must still be aflame.
‘I need to follow!’
It seemed there wouldn’t be time to disguise herself as a maid.
Ashtel sparkled her eyes and hurried after Payne.
* * *
However, the chase was not smooth.
There were many servants bustling with preparations, which made it tricky, and she found herself ascending the carpeted pulpit.
Ashtel hid herself under the red-draped dais, rolling her round eyes.
‘Where is Payne?’
There were too many people.
More than when she first arrived in the city of Singria and toured the marketplace.
Moreover, each person was holding a prayer book and expressing their devotion to Katzel, making her stomach churn.
‘I feel nauseous.’
Just as she considered retreating, the lights studding the ceiling suddenly went out.
“Eek?”
She froze and looked around, and then she heard a familiar set of footsteps.
‘He’s getting closer!’
The mysterious figure stood upright in front of the pulpit.
Ashtel squinted as she noticed the familiar, well-polished, yet worn black shoes.
Not just the sound of footsteps, but those shoes were familiar too.
‘…Payne?’
Curious, she gently pulled back the fabric and peeked out. Indeed, as she suspected.
A sharp sniff confirmed it—the scent of heat filled the air.
It was Payne.
‘Gasp.’
And there he was, visibly unable to conceal his incredibly e–ct d-ck.
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