NOVEL WEB Chapter 16 - Bishop Kian
Diarmid found himself in the bishop’s room within the cathedral, facing Bishop Kian.
“Hello, Diarmid. I heard you got married. Did you marry me because you liked me when I wasn’t around?” Kian asked with a teasing tone.
Bishop Kian was 35 years old and had a long-standing relationship with Diarmid. He was the one who had administered Diarmid’s sacrament of adulthood.
Kian was also the youngest brother of the current king, but unlike his golden-haired royal family, he had brown hair, which had led him to leave the palace and live in the cathedral.
Kian smiled at Diarmid with dark eyes, and their shared experience of not fitting in due to their hair color created a sense of camaraderie.
“I don’t think anything like that will happen, Your Grace Kian,” Diarmid replied respectfully, suppressing any hint of his true feelings. He had once aimed to become Kian’s favorite, but now he couldn’t admit that openly.
Diarmid’s words were polite, showing his respect for the bishop, even addressing him with “Your Grace.”
Kian, amused, reassured Diarmid, “Of course, I’m kidding. I’d like to celebrate with you next time.”
Kian placed a hand on Diarmid’s shoulder, and Diarmid tried hard to restrain himself from brushing it away.
“It’s a greater honor than I can imagine, Your Highness,” Diarmid replied humbly.
Kian remarked, “It’s great that you can tolerate your animal nature, Diarmid. You’re a strong child,” laughing at the complexity of Diarmid’s situation.
He continued, “Well, you thought you could get married in this state, right? Or is your wife okay?”
“I’m embarrassed to say that my wife doesn’t have any negative reactions,” Diarmid confessed.
Kian, intrigued, commented, “Huh… I guess you are destined for each other. Ah, in the Frozevitnir household, is that what they call it?”
“Yes,” Diarmid confirmed.
“It’s a romantic story, isn’t it? A man from the Hrozvitnil family can only love one woman. Moreover, if that woman dies, the man will become weak,” Kian mused.
“It’s an exaggerated legend. There’s nothing like it,” Diarmid replied, dismissing the legend.
But Kian pressed further, asking if Diarmid’s wife knew his secret.
“Of course, I’m not discussing it with her,” Diarmid replied discreetly.
Kian continued to probe, noting, “Yes, you’re probably too embarrassed to talk about it. Even after receiving the sacraments, you can’t control your beastly nature. You’re like a beast.”
Diarmid bit his lip at Kian’s remark, reflecting on his struggle to contain his inner nature.
(Being a beast, it’s hard for me to find happiness like a human does,) Diarmid thought, feeling the weight of his dual existence.
Kian observed Diarmid, who, despite being a formidable God of War, now knelt in humility before him. Kian took a measure of satisfaction in this.
Kian, despite being a member of the royal family, had faced his own share of struggles. He had left the palace due to his brown hair and lived in the cathedral, unable to have a family of his own.
(What’s the difference between him and me?) Kian wondered, comparing their situations privately.
He decided not to share these thoughts and instead patted Diarmid on the shoulder, offering a smile.
“Don’t kneel there, sit on a chair,” Kian instructed, prompting Diarmid to take a seat.
Seated across from each other, Kian asked about Diarmid adopting his brother’s orphaned child and whether his wife had objections to it.
Diarmid explained, “My wife is happy.”
Kian noted, “Yes, she seems generous. Your son would be expected to inherit the Marquis title.”
Diarmid, however, had no intention of having children with his wife. This piqued Kian’s curiosity.
“Why?” Kian asked, sensing that there was more to the story.
“I have black hair, just like the Marquis Hrozvitnir family. I’m sure our child would also have black hair. However, my older brother’s child had silver hair.”
Diarmid revealed his deep-seated insecurity about passing on his black hair, as someone who shared the same complex.
Kian sympathized, “You’re so sincere. I wish you didn’t have to worry about things like that.”
Kian knew that the current world was not an ideal place where such worries could be put to rest.
“I can’t live without sedatives either. I’d feel bad if that happened to my child as well,” Kian shared.
Diarmid nodded, acknowledging the necessity of the sedatives.
Diarmid’s annual transformation into a wolf on his birth month’s full moon, something that should never have happened after receiving the Sacrament of Adulthood, was something he couldn’t control without Kian’s sedatives.
Diarmid was willing to do anything to secure these sedatives, even if he was a field marshal. He knew that if Kian ordered it, even the royal family would have to comply.
Kian emphasized the secrecy of their shared secret, knowing that the existence of such a drug should remain unknown to others.
Diarmid felt a shiver run down his spine as Kian mentioned the sedatives. He couldn’t help but wish for them sooner.
“Can’t you have it today?” Diarmid inquired hesitantly.
“It’s not ready yet. Besides, it’s a strong medicine. We shouldn’t let the child ingest it by mistake, right? I want to make sure that the child is sensible at the tea party before giving it to him. It’s an important medicine, after all,” Kian explained.
Diarmid reluctantly accepted the delay, and Kian had one final comment as he looked at him.
“This is not just your secret. The Sacrament of Adulthood must not be ineffective. No one must know that such a drug exists.”
Kian’s satisfaction w
as evident as he looked at the subdued Diarmid, who bore the weight of their shared secret.