Ophelia’s reflection raised her head suddenly. Unable to decipher the intentions behind Claudio’s comment, her mouth dropped open, but no words came out.
“But I suppose there’s no point in saying such things to someone as pure-hearted as you.”
Claudio kept his gaze trained on the water’s surface as he said that, and when he looked up, he was startled to find Ophelia’s face much closer than he’d realized. Probably because he’d brought up the topic of his face, Ophelia was gazing up at him, examining it studiously. Ophelia, too, was startled at the sudden, intense eye contact, and they both remained like that for a long moment, frozen, just gazing at one another.
Her face is actually very cute. How did I ever think her plain? Just as Claudio thought that, approaching footsteps came from behind the pair.
“It’s said that the water in the font reflects the true feelings of those who look into it.”
“Those aren’t my true feelings!” Claudio leapt back at the sound of the pope’s amused voice, putting distance between himself and Ophelia.
Claudio’s shout sent a tremor through Ophelia’s body. Seeing this, he unconsciously made a bitter face.
A short distance away, the pope grinned mischievously.
“Oh-ho? Whatever were you thinking just now, Your Grace?”
The pope pressed a hand over his mouth in a refined expression, pretending to be scandalized. Then he reached out and, without hesitation, shoved his other hand into the stream of holy water, casually picking up the silver vessel. Without a basin to collect it, the water pouring from the faucet fell directly into the pool, making a different but not unpleasant rhythmic splashing noise.
“So we meet again, just as I thought.”
Realizing that the pope was looking at her, Ophelia automatically bowed her head. The pope smiled at her kindly, wrinkles forming around his eyes.
“Your Holiness, I can’t stop thinking about the holy remains, so I’ve come here to talk to you about it. Could you spare a moment of your time?” Claudio asked.
“Of course. I had a feeling you’d be by sooner or later.”
Just as Claudio was opening his mouth to respond, he felt a tug on the belt of his jacket. He glanced down and saw Ophelia looking back and forth between the pope and himself, her eyes flickering uneasily. Claudio patted her head lightly, and her lips tightened, seemingly in relief.
“Have you been doing that all along, deceiving everyone by bringing in fake holy remains?” he asked.
The pope’s eyebrows rose high on his forehead. “‘Deceiving everyone,’ really? That’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think? I admit that day what we transported to the chapel was not the holy remains.”
Claudio glanced over at Ophelia for confirmation, but her body wasn’t shaking. Claudio’s gaze slid back to the pope.
The pope used one hand to hold back the sleeve on his other arm so he could shake the silver vessel to drain the remaining water. He gazed for a long moment at the distorted reflection of his face in one of the droplets. Then, when he noticed Ophelia curiously looking at the vessel in his hands, he passed it to her.
“It seems that long ago, visitors to the Cathedral were welcome to casually pick this silver vessel up and handle it. It had become so tarnished that it was completely black and was relegated to a shelf in the pope’s private office. The first task I undertook upon being inaugurated was polishing the silver vessel.”
“It does look very old,” Ophelia observed.
“Yes, it originally belonged to a holy being who lived a very long time ago.”
After casting a confirming glance at Ophelia, who was holding the silver vessel gingerly with both hands wrapped as far around it as they would go, Claudio nodded and spoke.
“Then you mean to say that this is a true holy relic?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Ophelia’s head jerked up, and she gawked at the pope with wide eyes following his easy confirmation. Then she slowly dropped her eyes back down to the silver vessel in her hands.
“Huh? B-But is it really okay for someone like me to touch it?!”
“Of course. Didn’t you hear what I said? In the past, everyone who visited used to touch it.”
The pope, still smiling, continued on as if talking to himself. “People’s fingers are very special; you can perceive a lot of things through touch. But all things that have shape will eventually break. At some point, there must’ve been a pope who found this too much to bear, so he hid the holy vessel away where no one could touch it and created fake holy remains. Even if they are the remains of a holy being, there aren’t many people who’d want to touch a dead body, after all.”
Ophelia grimaced, remembering how she herself had freaked out upon learning the holy remains were actually a dead body.
“And, anyway, it’s much more impressive to have the all-important ‘holy remains’ displayed during ceremonies rather than plopping this dinky old silver vessel on the altar, right?” The pope gave Ophelia a cheeky wink as he said that, and she nodded timidly in response.
The silver vessel in her hands wasn’t exceptionally valuable in terms of its construction, but it was well cared for and had been polished to a sheen. Long, long before Ophelia was even born, countless people had come here to offer their prayers and gratitude to this holy vessel. Her thoughts ran through all of that as her fingers absently ran over a shallow indent in the vessel’s surface.
“Ophelia, put that thing back in the holy water font already. It makes me nervous to have you holding it.”
“Y-Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”
At Claudio’s urging, Ophelia put the silver vessel back into the pool. The water falling from the faucet poured into the vessel, and in no time at all, it began to overflow. The runoff flowed into the pool, filling it back up.
“You seem quite familiar with how to handle this young lady, Your Grace.”
Claudio frowned, folded his arms, and evasively turned his body to the side. “Well, yeah, she is my employee after all.”
“And yet you, the duke infamous for despising liars, have been bringing her around with you. She must be quite the woman.” The pope turned so he was facing Ophelia straight on. Ophelia straightened her spine reflexively. “It was true that I was gathering branches to roast potatoes. I do that every year. As a token of my gratitude for your kind concern for the staff here, I’ll invite you to join me.”
It seemed that the pope was exceedingly fond of roasted potatoes. A little giggle escaped Ophelia, and she nodded shyly in acceptance of the invitation, causing the pope’s smile to deepen.
“You’ll have to keep this a secret just between us, you understand.”
After saying this, the pope bowed his head to Claudio and took his leave.
✦ ✦ ✦
🌷 🌷 🌷
IN the carriage on the way back to the Royal Palace, Claudio resumed the same posture as on the ride there, with his elbow on the windowsill and supporting his chin on his hand as he gazed out the window.
“It’s said that the water in the font reflects the true feelings of those who look into it.”
The pope must’ve just made that up to mess with me. There’s no way something like that could be real.
The more he thought about it, the clearer his thoughts became. Perhaps it was about time he was honest with himself about his feelings. But first, he needed to take care of the report he’d asked Samael to write up.
Claudio dropped his gaze to Ophelia, seated beside him, and found her cupping her chin with one hand, deep in thought.
“What are you thinking about?”
If she were thinking the same thing… Claudio was surprised at himself for the faint hope that flickered to life in his chest at the thought.
Oblivious to Claudio holding his breath in anticipation of her response, Ophelia’s frown deepened.
“If you look very closely at that silver vessel, there’s a faint crack in it. If you tried to put a drink in there, it would leak out right away.”
Claudio’s sudden and fierce glare had Ophelia cringing just the tiniest bit.
“Sigh. I was a moron for expecting anything from you.”
“Wh-What is that supposed to mean?!”
“Ugh, I’m tired. When we get back, make me a cup of coffee, will you?” Claudio said, heaving another big sigh and massaging his temple. Ophelia couldn’t see his expression very well, but she smiled happily at his request.
“Okay! I’ve gotten pretty good at making coffee lately, if I do say so myself!”
“You’re the only one saying that.”
“Just leave it to me!”
“You know what? I’ll make it myself after all.”
“I will brew my heart and soul into that coffee.”
“…Whatever.”
When they got back to the Director’s Office, Ophelia outdid herself and brewed a spectacularly bitter cup of coffee.