The thunderous knocking startled them, the awkwardness of their situation slowly seeping in. They were kneeling on the chapel floor in a rather intimate hug while their retainers and the temple's clerics were about to barge in. Quickly sobering up, Noah and Lorelei separated and scrambled to their feet, but their gazes remained entangled for just a couple of heartbeats longer.

“I think…” Lorelei cleared her throat. “I think you might wish to remove your covering before anyone enters and gets a fright.”

“And just as I was starting to like my ragdoll attire,” humphed Noah but hurried to disentangle himself from the torn linens.

Lorelei observed him, curious whether his heart was beating just as violently as hers was. Considering his slightly flustered expression as he emerged from his protective cocoon, such a scenario was plausible. The spark had also returned to his eyes and the deep wrinkles between his brows seemed to smoothen. Even covered in linen rags and weighed down by anguish and sadness, he was more dashing than the radiant heroes from the minstrels’ songs.

Catching herself trailing off in daydreams, Lorelei made an effort to return to the harsh reality they were facing.

“Be sure not to touch the linens on the outside and burn them immediately. And make sure to use soap and hot water to wash afterward.”

“Do you really believe you got infected?” The obvious fear in his gaze made the pangs of her heart even more painful because she knew its meaning. He was not fearing for his life.

“Better be safe than sorry,” she mumbled before raising her voice. “Enter!”

Immediately, the chapel door flung open and Lucas and the Father Infirmarian stormed in. Their pale faces didn’t bode well.

“Blessed Saints! My lady!” The willowy priest rushed toward her, his expression the embodiment of horror. There was urgency in his hushed tone. “I finally found you! You need to come with me. Right now!”

“What’s the rush, Father?” Noah barred his way before the perturbed man could grab Lorelei’s sleeve. However, at the sight of him, the infirmarian only paled even more.

“Your Highness! Be completely honest with me. Please, tell me that you and the Duchess didn’t have any physical contact recently.”

“Who died this time?” Lorelei interjected before Noah could respond. But even before the infirmarian spoke, she already knew the answer.

“Madame Gilbert, Your Highness.”

“S… Symptoms?” She managed to push the word through her teeth with immense effort, all the while her lungs desperately tried to take a sip of air but failed.

“Sudden bleeding from all orifices, the same as the others. That’s why I came to fetch you. Bishop Petronius informed me…”

For some reason, all of the Father Infirmarian’s words seemed to pass through Lorelei’s ears like the humming of a swarm of bees. She could no longer feel her hands and feet, the only sensation left in her body being the chill of horror and realization. She was going to die! Her stomach twisted as the world turned dim and disappeared, engulfed by a bloody fog.

Noah first noticed her sway and grabbed her before her unconscious body could hit the floor.

***

When Lorelei came to, she found herself lying on the cot in her cell at the women’s wing. Someone had peeled off her habit, veil, and gloves and dressed her in a soft, comfortable shift. The strong smell of incense hung in the air like a corporeal obsequy, portending her looming demise.

A cry tore free from Lorelei’s pressed lips. She curled up like a baby, pressing her face against the pillow, and screamed. The feathered stuffing absorbed her howls and sucked up her poisonous tears. Her fingers clawed at the sheets, their very touch reminiscent of the tight embrace of a mound shroud.

Dead. She was dead. A walking corpse amongst the living. It was just a matter of time before her body succumbed to the treacherous illness coursing through her veins. Before the plague’s poison covered her skin in a spider-thin web of bursting veins and drowned her in her own blood.

Something thick and metallic rose up her throat. She gagged. Her eyes ripped wide open and she shot up, frantically looking around.

There!

Rolling down from the cot, she scrambled to the chamberpot and vomited. With each wretch, her body quivered and pain pulsated through her entire body.

‘No! It’s starting! Already?! No! No! No! I don’t want to! I want to live! Please! Someone, help me! Dear Gods, have mercy! Help!’

There was no divine light. No godly intervention as a result of her prayers. No saintly powers cleansing her corrupted body. But with the passing of time, the convulsions and vomiting ceased. Her blurred vision also began clearing, enough for her to be able to focus on the contents of the chamberpot. There was no blood. Only her long-forgotten breakfast.

Lorelei burst out into laughter and the tears streamed down again, this time in relief.

“I-idiot,” she mumbled through sobs. “G-get a grip. To mistake indigestion for the Blood Plague? You’re slipping.”

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

She was indeed on the edge of madness after all that had piled up on her in the past… months? It felt like a lifetime. All she wanted to do was crawl back in bed and cry herself to sleep, waiting for the inevitable end. Instead, she wiped her tears, pushed the chamberpot into a corner, and went to rinse her mouth with some water. She then took a stylus and a few sheets of paper and began meticulously inspecting her body, writing down every bruise or lack thereof.

That’s how Bishop Petronius found her half an hour later.

“Your Highness feels sick already?” His eyes squinted from behind the protection of the veil, his nose still not failing to alert him of the unfortunate contents of her hidden chamberpot.

“It was just a bout of panic.” She waved her hand, trying to act braver than she felt. “It has already passed. And I have no symptoms… yet. The quickened heartbeat and the nausea can be explained by fatigue and fright. I found no bleeding under the skin. My lungs also seem fine. My shaking hands are also not due to fever but more likely because of my recent nervous breakdown.”

“I’m glad to hear this, my lady.” The bishop studied her carefully before shaking his head. “The trials and tribulations of the Two Fathers do seem to come in pairs, both in the shape of people and disasters.”

“Pardon?”

“I mean, you and the duke sure match well together.”

“In what way?” Even hearing Noah’s name was painful. What if she never saw him again?

“You two seem to have very similar reactions in the face of death. As if you couldn’t be bothered.”

“Would crying and begging change the outcome?”

“No, it wouldn’t. But a bit more piety and less denial will calm your soul and cleanse it before it returns to Father Lustris.” Bishop Petronius sounded stern, but there was sadness in his gaze as he measured Lorelei up. “But what is sure, the duke once asked me the very same question. And got the same answer only to completely ignore it.”

Lorelei just bit her lips, uncertain how to respond. However, the old cleric didn’t give her much time to retort.

“Since we are on the topic of His Highness, I want to make sure again, my lady.” Petronius’ vigilant eyes locked on her. “You spent almost the entire day with him as it seems. So, can you swear upon the Two Fathers that the two of you had no bodily contact?”

She flinched and knew he didn’t miss it. But before she could explain, the cleric took a step toward her.

“Merciful Lords!” he lowered his voice angrily. “I trusted you at least to know better! Forget the fact that you’ve desecrated a chapel. How could you consciously indulge in your lustful desires after knowing you might be infected?”

Suddenly, Bishop Petronius stepped even closer and his gloved hands grabbed her shoulders.

“Be honest. Did you do it on purpose?” His cold, leveled tone was scarier than if he had shouted. “Did you try to assassinate the duke by getting him infected? Was all this your and your Binshi friend’s doing? Did you spread the disease?”

“You are insane!” Lorelei was so stunned that she didn’t even think to struggle free. There was desperation and madness in the old cleric’s eyes peering at her from behind the veil.

“Hardly. I would be insane to think all that happened is just a coincidence. But honestly, it was a masterful plan. The duke almost lost his life twice in a single day due to the steeple disaster. And when it didn’t work, you lot decided to stoop even lower. Yet I was a fool to see it just now. You were the one who found the first victim. After that, all the patients who died had been under your direct care. I should have suspected something. The sickness developed too fast and amongst people who never even had contact with Novice Lillibeth. It was all you!”

“Your Holiness! That’s delusional! Come to your senses.” Lorelei raised her voice but her words didn’t seem to reach him.

“What a fool I was! And now you managed to seduce and infect the duke! But why did you have to make all those innocent people suffer too? Did you join the Red Hands when you were supposedly kidnapped? Have you contracted their madness too? You must have. To kill all those people and even sacrifice your own life… Or did those Binshi bastards develop a cure? Where is it? Hand it over!”

“Shut up!”

The anger bubbling in Lorelei’s chest overshadowed her fear and desperation, and, for a brief moment, it gave her strength. She shoved Bishop Petronius away. In the process, she ripped away his veil, revealing the gaunt, angry face beneath.

“Not a single word!” she hissed and spat in his feet, forcing him to jump back. “You insane idiot. I didn’t find the first body. It was Nelini. She too has yet to show any symptoms, but you never suspected her.”

“She would never harm the duke. She has saved his life-”

“And I haven't!? I’ve pulled him out of the clutches of death and demons. But you couldn’t know this, so I forgive you. What I can’t forgive, Your Holiness, is you insinuating that I work for the Red Hands and that I have killed innocents. Wake up, Your Holiness. If I wanted to kill the duke, I had more than enough chances to do so.”

Bishop Petronius frowned, but she could see doubt starting to creep in. Spinning on her heels, Lorelei grabbed the small swallow-shaped brooch lying on the table at her cot. Its blue gem caught the sparse light of the setting sun.

“This is argali horn. It dispels illusions and can reveal the concealed marks of the Red Hands. But if you don’t believe me, you can send someone to verify it. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

Saying that, Lorelei pulled the laces of her shift and pulled the front open, revealing her left breast. Bishop Petronius gasped but she didn't give him time to speak. Crossing gazes with him, she pressed the gem against her skin.

Nothing happened.

Exhaling, Lorelei covered herself and gave the bishop a poisonous look.

“I am a physician. I tend to the sick and dying. It isn’t rare for my patients to reunite with Father Norn. But I didn’t kill them, I swear on the Two Fathers. As for the duke, yes, I was with him. Yes, we did have bodily contact. It’s called a hug, Your Holiness. It is something one needs, especially when having to face their imminent mortality. But we kept decorum. Our bare skin never touched. Anything beyond that is just a figment of your perverted imagination.”

“You dare insult me!?”

“Just as you dare insult me.”

She threw his veil on the ground.

“Now take your leave, Your Holiness. And I advise you to take good rest against mental exhaustion. In seven days, if I’m still alive, you can come back and question my integrity, actions, and motives. Until then, I’ll be cleansing my soul and body to face the Father of Darkness. Good night.”

Bishop Petronius looked a breath away from bursting at the seams, his face purplish and contorted. But instead of retorting, he turned around and exited the room. Lorelei shook and crumbled on the cot, cocooning herself into the blanket.

She was too drained even to cry. And she was alone. There was no one who could help her. She had to face her anger, fear, and guilt and fight them on her own or allow herself to succumb to madness.