Episode 22: Excessive Consideration (7)
“…Pardon?”
At Iskandel’s unexpected words, Hashana reflexively echoed them like a fool.
“I said you are losing this battle.”
She did not answer.
“Well, the only fights I’ve ever seen are lovers’ quarrels in brothels or the royal family’s brawls, which are nothing but the same filthy fights dressed up in polite language…”
He caught sight of his reflection in her clear, wide eyes and gave a slightly sheepish smile.
“Unfortunately, from where I stand, it looks as though you have never once won even a small skirmish against Rsanda. When she sets a stage for you to get angry, you get angry. When she creates a scene for you to be flustered, you are flustered.”
Hearing a man who looked like he had never so much as held a sword pronounce judgment on the outcome of a battle, Hashana’s face slowly twisted.
He went on with a sigh, as if he had expected her reaction.
“As you so rightly scoffed, I have never experienced war. But I am very used to small fights, if not grand things like war, and that is why I dared to say this. I have strung together victory after victory with a single tactic: never giving my opponent the reaction they want.”
She remained silent.
“Sincerity is a vital virtue. However, for someone like you, saintess, who exists to rule the faithful, being too honest in every situation… makes that admirable trait somewhat concerning.”
Caught between the snickering of the ill-tempered goddess still lingering in the room and the quiet, simmering fury of the saint lying on top of him, Iskandel said everything he had to say.
“You may be angry at my impudence, but I can’t help it. I entrusted my body to you, saintess, not to Rsanda. That is why I want you to win, in every case, in every moment. I would rather share in the triumphs of my protector than in her embarrassments.”
Hashana, who had been silently listening to the foreigner’s arrogant words, pressed her lips together tightly.
It was humiliating and infuriating, but he was right.
It was unpleasant, outrageous, and a little embarrassing that she, the Saintess of War, was being lectured on strategy by some idle rake.
Yet soon, all those emotions settled into gratitude.
No one in Durgtah—not even Rsanda, who had created her—had ever told her this so plainly.
When Hashana’s gaze softened, Iskandel added in a light, joking tone, “I dressed it up to sound impressive, but all I meant was that I have a long-standing bad habit of watching people get worked up, get angry, and shout all on their own, only to run out of steam and slink away.
Please don’t think too badly of me.
Just take it as something to consider.”
“No.
I am the one who should apologize.
I have done nothing but behave rudely to an honored guest.
I am ashamed beyond words.”
While he was busy regretting that his advice had been far too earnest for a near stranger, Hashana thanked him with pure, unadulterated gratitude.
He thought even that attitude was not how someone who stood above others ought to behave, then swallowed dryly, unsettled by how unusually clear his own head felt.
‘Is it because this temple is on a rocky mountain and the air is so clean…?
This is strange.’
Finding both his body and mind uncomfortably refreshed, he unconsciously furrowed his brow, then snapped back to himself when he met Hashana’s eyes.
She was a woman so innocent and straightforward that even a jaded man like him could be swept along. The source of this chapter is novelping.com.
For some reason, he didn’t like the idea of those eyes, waiting so earnestly for a response to her sincere apology, becoming clouded because of someone like him.
“This is not something you need to apologize for, saintess. It just made me want to cover my face and cry. To have my lips suddenly devoured, lose consciousness, and wake up to find myself pinned like this… even for me, that’s a bit much.”
He was clearly joking, but Hashana still nodded in agreement, reflecting on how she had just been stroking and caressing the unconscious man’s member.
“I am sorry. Even for someone as experienced as you, it’s only natural to be startled by something like this. The truth is, what has happened to you requires a rather long explanation, but this isn’t exactly the position for that. Once Rsanda withdraws her power, I will properly—oh.”
Hashana, who had been rattling on at high speed, abruptly shut her mouth.
The soft laugh Iskandel let slip from above her head brushed through her tousled hair like a gentle breeze, and her embarrassment deepened.
“You were… just teasing me, weren’t you?”
“Indeed.”
“And… I was too honest again, wasn’t I?”
“I won’t deny it.”
Hashana let out a long sigh.
The faithful of Durgtah revered her too much.
No matter what she did, they nodded and agreed she was right.
They exalted her as the standard of righteousness, especially in contrast to Rsanda, who made them anxious no matter what she did.
‘I’ve… lived far too comfortably in an environment of pure goodwill.
I have no immunity to tense situations like this.’
Come to think of it, even Iskandel’s simple request that she stop moving was a new experience for her.
The only men she had ever known were those who begged her to use them as practice partners whenever she wished—whether for kissing or for learning how her own body responded to touch—so she would be ready for her coming-of-age night.
‘If it were the captains of the guard… with me lying on top of them like this, they would be showering me with every sappy compliment they could think of, instead of warning me not to move.’
Sorting through the tangle of emotions, Hashana admitted it.
Iskandel was fundamentally different from the men whose hearts pounded and who were moved to tears if so much as her collar brushed their skin.
The way they worshiped goddesses in the Capital must be completely different.
‘When Karasvati comes, I should ask her how they do things in the Capital.’
Adding another item to her mental to-do list, she cleared away the last of her confusion with a small cough and faced Iskandel again.
“I admit that what I did was no different from rape.
If a stranger suddenly jumped me and violated my unconscious body like this, I’m sure I would feel disgusted, or want to throw up, or be furious.”
“No, no, there’s no need to go that far.
If my role is to warm the saintess’s bed, I consider it an honor.”
When Iskandel shook his head with a big, easy laugh, Hashana, who had just accepted the difference between the Capital and Durgtah, was thrown back into confusion.
This time, even Iskandel didn’t reach out to help the young saintess whose thoughts were so transparent.
‘If he considers it an honor, then why did he tell me not to move earlier…?’
Trying to read his intentions with a furrowed brow, Hashana finally sighed, feeling she truly didn’t understand, and focused only on the matter at hand.
“If you were not greatly displeased, may I ask for your cooperation in the future as well?”
“By cooperation… do you mean you intend to take me as you did today, going forward?”
“I don’t think it’s a bad thing for you either, Iskandel. Rsanda has condensed holy power into your body.”
Hashana mirrored his expression and nodded gravely.
“I have to take it back.
It is far too much holy power for a human to bear.
Your life is in danger, Your Highness.”
“Why would Rsanda’s holy power be in the body of a human like me…?”
“I couldn’t possibly know what goes on in Rsanda’s mind, but it seems she wants to use this chance to train me to resist temptation as well, while she’s at it with the first-night practice.
If I learn from and grow accustomed to someone like you, then no one in the world will be able to tempt me in the future, will they?”
Faced with the woman smiling with an expression so clear it was almost transparent, Iskandel could not say a word.
Hashana, as if she had never been angry or confused, smiled with a refreshed face.
“Oh. Penetration will only be possible after my coming-of-age ceremony, so I ask for your understanding when you teach me. I know they consider eighteen to be adulthood in the Capital, but in Durgtah it is twenty. We are planning to hold the celebratory banquet for the delegation and my coming-of-age ceremony on the same day, so if you could just be careful until then, that should be enough.”
He remained silent.
“Talking things out really is the best way to clear up misunderstandings. Thanks to your honesty, I’ve learned a great deal.”
Iskandel, who had fallen silent, wondering what on earth he was doing with a girl who had only just turned twenty, heard Hashana whisper in an excited voice.
“Learning about these differences is what makes true cultural exchange so fun. I look forward to your splendid techniques from the Capital. Let us do well together, shall we?”
He did not respond.
“Shall we get some proper sleep now? It’s very important to rest well to stabilize the transplanted holy power.”
No sooner had she finished speaking than Hashana rested her cheek against his chest and closed her eyes.
“It’s a bit of an odd time to fall asleep, but… anyway, sleep well.”
Feeling the vibration of his dry laugh through her hair, Hashana tilted her face as if she knew nothing.
As she focused on the sensation of his now noticeably steadier heartbeat tapping against her cheek—’badump, badump’—her tangled thoughts and emotions were washed clean, leaving her calm.
With her eyes closed, she tried to remember how long it had been since she had smiled like this, how long since she had last taken a daytime nap.
The fact that she couldn’t recall any such nap, even after tracing her memories back quite a ways, made her a little irritated, but even that was soon washed away by the languor spreading through her body.
Perhaps because she had emptied her mind to the sound of Iskandel’s heartbeat as a lullaby, it wasn’t long before she drifted off to sleep, the corners of her mouth relaxing upward.
“Um, Lady Hashana. Lady Hashana?”
Iskandel, who could only let out incredulous little laughs, called her name several times, thinking, ‘Surely not.’ But Hashana, who had fallen into the first sweet daytime sleep of her life, only breathed evenly, her soft breaths the only sound.
“…How am I supposed to sleep like this?”
He tried to move, whether to push her off or to slip out from under her, but quickly realized that all he could manage was to move his head.
His face crumpled in frustration as he called out the name of the culprit.
“Rsanda, are you listening?”
“Probably?” a nonchalant answer drifted down from somewhere near the high ceiling.