My Past Life is Riddled With Many Sins - Chapter 132
Had Valenti waited for her to accept the reality in her body as well as her mind, or had he simply been patient? Regina didn’t know. But only after she lowered her sword did he speak.
“It’s useless. Without my permission, you will never leave here.”
The sudden shift in his tone sent a chill down Regina’s spine. Since the moment she had denied being Yekarna’s reincarnation, he had never once used that tone of speech with her.
For him to suddenly raise his tone—what did that mean?
She couldn’t bring herself to turn around and face him. What kind of expression might he be having? What kind of eyes might he be looking at her with? She kept her back to him, staring at the door silently, when she heard the faint sound of the candlestick being set down. Footsteps grew nearer.
It was Friedrich—or rather, Valenti. Whichever he was now, he was approaching.
In this position, if he were to stab her in the back with a knife, she wouldn’t be able to defend herself. She knew it, but still, she remained frozen, vulnerable, not moving a muscle as he came closer.
He reached her, and then, without warning, he wrapped his arms around her and gently pulled her into a hug.
The unexpected gesture made her stiffen. For a moment, it felt like her body lost its warmth, only to return soon after. His thin nightwear brushed against her skin, and the sensation of his bare body against hers was almost too much to ignore.
“I wanted to lock you away somewhere only I could reach, but here you are, coming to me of your own accord.”
The breath by her ear sent a cold shiver down her spine, spreading from the top of her head all the way down her back. His arms, encircling her shoulders, pulled her in tighter as his fingers traced the surroundings.
“I’ll finally fulfill the desires of my past life, Your Majesty.”
He looked more delighted than she had ever seen him in this reincarnation.
In her past life, Yekarna had almost been imprisoned several times. When she was a princess, factions seeking to control her had tried to confine her.
After becoming Empress, political rivals and even romantic entanglements had led to numerous failed attempts at holding her. But they had all been thwarted in the end.
Despite everything, Yekarna had always been able to escape. She had been strong, the pinnacle of a swordswoman, able to escape from any crisis on her own. But that had only been true when her enemies were human. When the opponent was God, she had no idea how to handle it.
The door to the Holy Ground, which she couldn’t even scratch with her mana blade.
The Sanctuary, which could disrupt the sense of direction of an intruder, trapping them inside.
And in the presence of God’s protection bestowed upon by Etoz, for the beloved children, even a Swordmaster at the peak of her powers was nothing more than a mere human.
The conclusion was that there was no way to escape on her own.
The one who had succeeded in imprisoning her was none other than Valenti, Friedrich’s reincarnation. If Yekarna had known this in the future, she would have been stunned. After all, it wasn’t a possibility she had ever considered.
Friedrich and imprisonment. How could those two concepts go together? He, the noble saint, is imprisoning someone? And her too? It felt like something out of a bad joke.
‘But… this is the reality.’
Still in disbelief, Regina scanned her surroundings, her eyes drawn to the dim light from the silver candlestick. It wasn’t very bright inside, but for a Swordmaster, darkness wasn’t an obstacle.
The Holy Ground, where one couldn’t enter or leave without the Pope’s permission, appeared to be the Pope’s personal space.
At first, Regina had assumed it was just a bedroom, but there was a desk and bookshelves, suggesting it doubled as an office. There was also a dining area, with a table and what appeared to be a golden table runner placed carefully on one side.
“Would you like some tea? It’s good to warm up before you sleep.”
“Uh? Oh.”
At Valenti’s calm tone, Regina unconsciously agreed. She was sitting at a round table, presumably set up for receiving guests. She felt as though she had been invited as an honored guest. His back, as he prepared the tea, seemed to paint the picture of an ideal host welcoming a visitor.
‘But is this really the time to be drinking tea?’
Regina was currently imprisoned by the man in front of her. And yet, the very man who had imprisoned her was serving her tea. It was absurd.
‘I should definitely refuse to drink it…’
“Here, have some.”
Valenti set the tea down in front of her.
“Oh, sure.”
She had intended to decline, but for some inexplicable reason, the words that came out were the complete opposite. Before she knew it, she was holding the teacup in her hand. She had taken it without even realizing when or how.
It was a strange sensation, as if her body and mind were no longer in sync. She felt as though she was being controlled by something else. Regardless, she had accepted the tea, and not wanting to seem rude, she brought it to her lips.
Even before taking a sip, the pleasant fragrance reached her nose—sweet floral and fruity scents filled the air, making her face relax.
The liquid on her tongue was bitter, with no trace of sweetness, which, oddly enough, made her more satisfied. She didn’t want anything sweet late at night.
“I’m glad it suits you, even though it’s not Cerise.”
At his words, Regina nearly spat the tea out in surprise.
Friedrich had been allergic to Cerise, and when they had met in the inn, she had stopped him from eating it. She had confused things for a moment, thinking that the physical change would affect his body’s reactions, even though that wasn’t the case.
To cover up the mix-up, she had lied, saying she liked Cerise and that she wanted it instead. To think he remembered that and had been holding onto it all this time…
‘That was ages ago!’
It was when they first met in this life, before even taking the Empire Academy entrance exam. To be honest, it felt like a lifetime ago. So why was he bringing it up now… Seeing her red with embarrassment, he couldn’t contain his laughter.
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