The Succubus and the Saintess [Western Fantasy] 21

Chapter 21: The Eyes

When Cenia woke up, she could still faintly smell the rich, spicy fragrance, as if she had been completely buried in it, a scent that lingered in her senses long after.

Just as I thought. I knew it. Succubi are a faithless race!

Last night, Pamela had snuck into her dreams again!

Shaking her head to clear the absurd dream from her mind, Cenia hurried out of bed, ready to knock on Pamela’s door.

But it was as if an eye had been placed somewhere, watching her. The moment she raised her hand, the door opened on its own.

The wellspring of anger Cenia had been nurturing was instantly punctured. Pamela stood on the other side of the threshold, dressed in her signature tight leather armor. They were very close.

Close enough to make one feel guilty.

A look of perfect surprise was on Pamela’s face. “What a coincidence. Good morning, Your Eminence.”

“…Good morning.”

Cenia took a small step back, blinking.

Even when alone, Pamela had obediently retracted her tail and horns. For a moment, Cenia almost thought she was facing a human.

A human of dazzling beauty.

Perhaps it was a trick of the early morning moonlight, but her red hair seemed to shimmer with a golden sheen.

For a moment, Cenia was speechless, and in that brief hesitation, Pamela seized the initiative.

“Your clothes. You can wear them directly.” Pamela handed the robes over. Only then did Cenia realize that this large swath of fabric had been hanging from her arm the whole time. How could she not have seen it? She should have noticed it immediately.

The succubus covered her mouth and let out a delicate yawn, like a newly awakened rose stretching its leaves, languid and lazy. She then added, “Since you came in person so early, it saves me a trip. If there’s nothing else, Your Eminence should head out soon. Otherwise, Belin will come looking for me again.”

Cenia: ?

She numbly took the robes.

Something else—of course there is. Last night, why…

“I didn’t sleep well last night,” the succubus who had recklessly wreaked havoc in her dreams spoke again, her face a picture of righteous exhaustion. “I’m going to sleep a little longer. It’s not like I have anything else to do, right? When you need me, come find me.”

She paused. “I wish you a smooth day.”

Pamela turned and closed the door, a clear gesture of dismissal. Even the smile on her face seemed completely perfunctory to Cenia.

Cenia: ?

The door closed in her face, without a hint of reluctance, a world away from the succubus who had used every trick in the book to climb into her bed and enter her dreams.

She hadn’t even had a chance to reprimand Pamela for entering her dream without permission!

She subconsciously lowered her head and sniffed the clothes in her hands. Is there really a scent? The blooming fragrance from the dream was completely gone now, as if it had truly been an illusion, making one doubt its reality.

According to Cenia’s original expectations, Pamela would not have returned the clothes so readily. And with the matter of the dream, she would have surely teased her, played a few tricks on her, and perhaps even proposed some more ambiguous conditions…

But there was nothing.

Pamela was playing completely off-script.

Although she had returned the robes voluntarily, and her behavior was uncharacteristically obedient—it was too obedient! This wasn’t how Pamela should be. Hadn’t she been perfectly fine just the day before?

As she put on the Saintess’s robes, the fabric seemed to still hold Pamela’s body heat. When it touched her skin, it was as if, across the chasm of several hours, they were standing naked before each other.

It was Belin’s voice that snapped her out of her reverie.

The little handmaiden looked at Cenia’s obvious distraction, her anger palpable but unspoken. In her heart, she fiercely blamed the succubus for everything. She said stiffly, “Lady Cenia… Bishop Robien says a new batch of tea has arrived from the East this year. He invites you for a tasting.”

***

Lying happily on Cenia’s large bed, Pamela rolled from one side to the other, marking every corner as her own.

The cuckoo occupying the magpie’s nest.

But what did it matter? Cenia would never know. Besides, she hadn’t placed any wards before she left, which was clearly an invitation for her to get on the bed!

Thinking of Cenia’s dazed expression that morning, Pamela let out a low chuckle. The woman was already slow to react, even more so right after waking up. To think that after a hundred years, that habit still hadn’t changed. A few quick words from her, and she had forgotten what she had even wanted to say.

It was only because of her high position as the Saintess of Light that Cenia could retain such a weakness. If it were in the Abyss…

If it were in the Abyss…

Pamela closed her eyes, thinking. She had never regretted it.

The moment she pushed Cenia away and leaped into the Abyss—no matter how many times she had to do it over, she would make the same choice.

The Pope’s book lay open beside her, but Pamela wasn’t reading it. The Eyes of Darkness, cloaked in a disguise of light element, hopped and skipped out of the room, out of the Saintess’s Cathedral. They passed by the feet of countless people, but the powerful clergy of the inner sanctum saw nothing, letting the eyes roll on their way.

Soon, the eyes caught up to Cenia and Belin. One of them, in its haste, rolled directly under the hem of Cenia’s robe, causing the Saintess to let out a soft “oh?” and pause.

“What is it, my lady?” Belin asked immediately.

“It’s nothing. I think I stepped on a small pebble,” Cenia said.

“How lax,” Belin, unsuspecting, muttered under her breath. “Everyone is so distracted these days. It’s truly unbecoming.”

“Watch your words,” Cenia said softly, her gaze fixed forward.

The round Eye of Darkness followed at their feet.

Bishop Robien Fuller’s residence in the Holy City was quite magnificent, which was related to his management of the most prosperous diocese in the East.

He was also an avid collector of demon slaves.

With the Saintess visiting, Robien had to put on a proper show. One minute before Cenia’s arrival, having received the news, Robien stood waiting at the door with his servants.

Behind him stood two low-level succubi, their figures fiery, their eyes downcast and submissive.

The moment Cenia appeared in the doorway, both succubus slaves looked up simultaneously, their eyes widening in surprise. They exchanged a glance.

Robien didn’t notice, but Cenia took in their reactions.

“Your Eminence,” the chubby Robien said, walking over quickly with a broad smile. He had intended to take Cenia’s hand, but seeing she made no move to offer it, he changed the gesture to a bow. Due to his large frame, the bow was rather clumsy. “It has been too long! Your grace is as radiant as ever.”

“Mm,” Cenia nodded faintly. “It is rare to have the opportunity to see so many people within the Holy City.”

“Please, come in,” Robien said. “Bishop Obadiah happens to be here as well. How wonderful. The tea today will surely be exceptionally delicious.”

The two exchanged pleasantries as they walked through the portico and garden into Robien’s richly Eastern-styled mansion. Belin and the two succubi lagged slightly behind. They had met before, but what puzzled the two slaves was that Belin, who had always hated demons, for once did not glare at them. She merely gave them a faint glance, her thoughts unreadable.

The Eye of Darkness also hopped along the cobblestone path, even moving ahead of Robien and Cenia. It blinked its lashless lid, its bloodshot black pupil observing Robien.

This Robien fellow is still alive. How strange. But his skin is wrinkled, his head is bald, and his body gives off a rotten stench. His power hasn’t improved at all…

Watching Robien struggle to move his obese body, trying to get closer to Cenia as he spoke, the eye rolled under his foot, pretending to be a raised stone, and made him trip perfectly.

Cenia “didn’t have time” to cast a spell to help him. Robien fell hard. Fortunately, he was thick-skinned in more ways than one. He clapped his hands and stood up as if nothing had happened, making no mention of the fact that his reaction time was too slow to even cast a basic “Mage Hand.”

“You see, I’ve grown old,” Robien said with a somewhat melancholic smile, turning to Cenia. “Even His Holiness the Pope, who is closest to the Goddess, could not escape it. How much longer can the rest of us hold on?”