The Perfect Servant
Canna awoke from a deep sleep.
She blinked slowly, then realized she was leaning against someone. A muscular chest, broad and solid, marked with scars.
“Are you awake?”
Canna’s head snapped up. Her eyes met the steady gaze fixed on her.
In that instant, fragments of the previous night flashed through her mind.
Undress me.
Hold me.
Heat flooded her face. Fortunately, she managed to keep her expression composed.
“You can put me down now.”
Raphael obeyed without hesitation. He gathered the clothes he had spread near the campfire and handed them to her.
“They are still slightly damp, but they should be better than yesterday.”
“Thank you.”
Canna dressed in a hurry. She did her best to appear calm, but her mind was in complete chaos.
She had every reason to be.
I must have lost my mind yesterday.
No matter how difficult the night had been, she clearly hadn’t been in her right mind. Canna stole a glance at Raphael. He had already changed back into his priestly robes, every button fastened tightly to his throat in an almost ascetic display.
This man really is something else.
The situation was mortifying in countless ways, yet Raphael hadn’t moved a single eyebrow. His silence was almost unnerving. He didn’t look like a man who had been holding a woman who was practically naked only moments ago.
Now that she thought about it, the same had been true yesterday.
Even while removing her clothes and sharing his body heat, his breathing had never faltered, and his hands had remained perfectly steady.
Canna tilted her head, puzzled.
No matter how much of a clergyman he is, it can’t be easy to look at the opposite sex as if she were a rock.
Or perhaps Juhwa’s suspicions had been reasonable after all?
As that thought crossed her mind, Raphael suddenly turned his head. Their eyes met. He immediately lowered his gaze in polite deference.
“If your condition is acceptable, it would be best if we departed now.”
But Canna hesitated. She had no idea where they should go.
What now?
Having escaped the Great Temple, returning there would be absurd. Yet she had no desire to go back to Addis either. At least not right now.
She had nowhere to go. She didn’t even have any money.
She had left all her belongings behind at the Great Temple.
But I have Raphael.
As always, Raphael kept his head bowed, not even daring to meet her eyes directly.
“Raphael.”
“Yes.”
“Did you know I was the Holy Spirit’s daughter?”
A brief silence fell. Then he acknowledged it.
“Yes.”
Just as she thought. Canna smiled. At last, one tangled knot had completely unraveled.
So that’s why he treated me so well.
All this time, his kindness had been because she was the Holy Spirit’s daughter. Not for any trivial reason like personal affection.
Yes, that makes sense.
How could he possibly feel any affection toward her?
When she considered everything Juhwa had done in this body, it seemed impossible.
He had probably never cared about her attitude in the first place. He wouldn’t have been interested at all.
To Raphael, the only thing that mattered was that she was the Holy Spirit’s daughter.
“I have nowhere to go. Arrange something.”
“Understood.”
Only now did she truly understand. His earlier words telling her not to ask for favors but to simply command him.
So that was it. That’s why.
Canna smiled bitterly.
After leaving the forest, they secured a carriage and traveled for a long time. The place they arrived at was yet another forest.
“Isn’t this a restricted area?”
Perhaps it belonged to a noble family. A massive fence stood at the forest’s entrance, clearly forbidding entry.
“It’s fine.”
“...Fine?”
“Yes.”
If he said so, then it must be. Canna followed him without further comment.
Deeper inside the forest, a small lake came into view. The jade-green water sparkled beneath the sunlight. A solitary mansion stood on the shore, its image reflected like a perfect mirror on the clear surface.
“You may rest here for the time being.”
“Is this an acquaintance’s home?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then whose mansion is it…?”
“It is mine, so there is no need for concern.”
This time, Canna was truly speechless.
Was he joking? No, Raphael wasn’t the type to joke. He didn’t seem like someone who even understood the concept of humor.
So this entire forest belongs to Raphael?
He didn’t seem like someone who would lie, so it must be true.
I thought he was poor, but I was wrong.
He must have taken a substantial amount of money when he left the Great Temple. Canna inwardly marveled at his resourcefulness.
The surprises did not end there. The mansion’s interior was dazzlingly opulent, easily rivaling the estates of the Valentinos or the Addises.
She had assumed he lived as a frugal defrocked priest, yet here he was, residing in such luxury!
“Raphael, do you usually stay here?”
“No.”
“Then what is it? Some kind of villa?”
“No. It is simply a place I prepared in case of such an eventuality…”
Raphael’s voice trailed off. He seemed worried the explanation would sound strange. It did. Even to her ears, it sounded extremely odd.
Such an eventuality. Why would Raphael have prepared a hiding place for a situation in which she needed to conceal herself?
It must be a shelter for himself, not for me.
That explanation made sense.
“Then who cleans this place? I don’t see any servants.”
“There is a hired caretaker who maintains it periodically. If you wish, Madam, I can arrange for full-time servants to reside here.”
“No. While I’m staying here, I would prefer not to encounter anyone.”
“As you wish.”
“Raphael.”
“Yes?”
“I’m divorced now. How long do you intend to keep calling me Madam?”
“...”
“I am no longer married, so calling me Madam is not appropriate. Call me something else.”
“If there is a form of address you prefer, please tell me anything you like.”
“Anything at all?”
“Yes.”
Raphael answered with the meek obedience of a well-trained servant. He had always been submissive, but now it had intensified.
And Canna found that attitude irritating.
“Then I believe it would be best to redefine the relationship between us at this point.”
“Please do so.”
“Before that, let me ask you one thing. Are you following me because I am the Holy Spirit’s daughter and you serve me as a priest? Or is it out of personal affection that you show me such kindness?”
In truth, there was no need to ask. She already knew exactly what he would say.
“I am following you, Madam.”
There it was. Just as expected. Canna let out a scornful laugh.
“You’re following me. So you would do anything I say?”
“Yes.”
“Even if it goes against Sylvien’s wishes?”
“Yes.”
That answer surprised her slightly. She hadn’t expected to rank higher in his priorities than Sylvien. Was being the Holy Spirit’s daughter truly that significant?
The more she considered it, the more twisted her emotions became.
“Do you wish to return to the clergy? Perhaps because you believe I might become a saint or something similar in the future?”
“I swear I have never entertained such thoughts. It is enough for me to serve you by your side.”
Perhaps because her identity as the Holy Spirit’s daughter had been revealed. He had shed a layer of pretense and was now openly behaving like a servant.
“Indeed. You always preferred commands from me rather than requests.”
It was true. Raphael had never wanted equality with her. She had thought he was simply being considerate because she was his friend’s wife, but...
“Then what am I to you, Raphael? Since you obey my commands, are you something like a servant?”
“If that is how you see me, it would be an honor.”
“...”
Canna was so stunned she closed her mouth.
She had said it to mock him, yet he accepted it immediately. His obedience was so absolute it almost seemed as if he had been waiting for this moment.
“You want to become my servant?”
“Anything.”
He spoke curtly, then continued.
“If you would take me in, Madam, anything would be acceptable.”
At those words, Canna became completely certain.
This was it.
Becoming her servant—this was what Raphael truly wanted.
Perhaps from the very first moment he had seen her.
“I see.”
Irritation surged through her. Canna replied indifferently.
“What should I do? I don’t use polite speech with servants.”
“Please speak down to me.”
Canna burst out laughing. He was now openly revealing his desires. It was astonishing how well he had hidden them until now.
“Once the speech becomes comfortable, the behavior will follow. I’m rougher than I appear, so you might end up getting hurt.”
“You may hurt me.”
He answered without the slightest hesitation.
“Do I sound like I’m joking? I am not a good person. I might treat you quite cruelly.”
“Handle me however you desire. You may trample me. You may ruin me completely.”
Canna’s eyes froze with coldness.
Yes, if that was what he wanted, there was no reason to refuse. If he wished to be a servant, then she would treat him as one.
“You’ll regret this, Raphael.”
Canna spoke slowly as she took one step closer to him. Raphael kept his gaze fixed on her feet and answered in a low voice.
“I will not regret it.”
“Really?”
Canna’s lips curved upward.
“Then what will you call me?”
Was this provocation? Or was it simply venting her anger?
Perhaps both. The moment that thought crossed her mind, a wave of realization washed over her.
The reason her feelings had felt so uncomfortable since earlier.
She had probably wanted to become friends with Raphael. She had thought he was a decent person and hoped to grow closer to him on a human level.
But he had never had the slightest intention of doing so.
Because she was the Holy Spirit’s daughter. Whether her name was Juhwa or Canna, whether her personality was likable or not, whether he liked her or hated her—none of it mattered. To Raphael, she was simply the Holy Spirit’s daughter.
So she would give him exactly what he wanted.
“Would ‘Young Lady’ be acceptable? But a servant wouldn’t dare have the right to call me that.”
“As you wish.”
“Then call me Master. Like a proper servant.”
She was being spiteful.
She knew it. Yet she couldn’t stop herself. Perhaps she had been hoping he would refuse, that he would show some anger.
However.
“I will do so.”
That’s enough!
She nearly shouted the words aloud. Canna bit down hard on her lip before releasing it.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Your speech is too short.”
“I apologize, Master.”
A strong wave of revulsion rose within her.
As expected, it felt incredibly uncomfortable. In contrast, Raphael was so natural it seemed as if he had spent his entire life practicing for this very moment.
“Fine. Do that.”
So she simply smiled softly. There was no warmth left in the expression.
“Congratulations on becoming my servant, Raphael.”
Raphael knelt. As he prostrated himself, his broad, upright back wrapped in the black priestly robes filled her vision.
He pressed his lips to the hem of her garment.
“Master, thank you for taking me in.”
It shouldn’t have been possible, yet she thought she could feel ecstasy radiating from him. From the lips touching her hem, from his fingertips, and from his voice.
He lifted his gaze. His face was expressionless. But for a fleeting moment, a thread of heat he couldn’t quite conceal flashed across his features before vanishing like an illusion.
Suddenly, a sense of unease crept over her.
She was the one who had taken Raphael into her grasp, so why did she feel as if she had fallen into his?
And it wasn’t just that.
“Please use me however you wish.”
She was the one looking down on him, yet it felt as though he was the one looking down.
Canna felt as if she were heavily pinned beneath his purple eyes.