Saint's Prison - Chapter 38

Suspicion and Kiss

After entering the monastery, I parted with Johanna and headed back to my own room.

As I reached for the door, I realized something.

(Isn’t this… really bad?)

I remember Amal getting furiously mad before because Johanna’s scent clung to me just from a whisper in my ear.

This time, I had my face and hair wiped with Johanna’s handkerchief that carried her scent, we held hands, and she whispered close to me. From Amal’s point of view, how would this be? Would it seem like I bathed in perfume?

(No, but I haven’t done anything guilty!)

I reassured myself; I consider Johanna a close friend.

If I explain that properly… she should understand. Maybe. Hopefully, she will understand.

(…I should probably take another shower, just in case.)

Better safe than sorry.

Sometimes, you need to be cautious.

As I was about to turn on my heel, “Andy-sama? Have you returned?” Amal called out from inside the room.

Sweat trickled down my cheek. My throat was parched.

Before I could say anything, the door opened.

Silver hair fluttered, and a beauty that seemed otherworldly peeked out. Recognizing me, the girl beamed a smile so full of joy she could barely contain it.

“Andy-sama, welcome back.”

“Ah, yeah, I’m back.”

“Yes. I’ve been waiting for you.”

With that, she hugged me. I could feel the unique softness of a teenage girl. Amal pressed her face against my chest and snuggled in, sniffing me, then suddenly froze.

(…I’m done for.)

No, it’s too early to give up. Come on, me!

With determination, I tried to explain.

“Look, it’s not what you think!”

“…I have not said anything yet.”

She cut me off.

I was taken aback by her emotionless voice and felt completely under the thumb of a girl several years my junior.

“Andy-sama, with Johanna Scotus again…”

I wasn’t surprised she guessed it was Johanna without saying anything. She must remember her scent from before.

Amal looked down, her voice trembling. She murmured something barely audible, as if she wished it to go unheard.

“Do you… like Johanna Scotus, Andy-sama?”

“Me, like Johanna?”

“Yes.”

“Do you mean, like, in a romantic way?”

“…Yes.”

I could understand her being jealous of Johanna.

But this question seemed to doubt my feelings altogether. Honestly, it wasn’t pleasant.

“Hey, what if I said that I do like Johanna, as a woman? What would you do then?”

The moment I said it, tears started falling from Amal’s eyes. She struggled to breathe, gasping, her face turning pale as if she might collapse any moment.

“…I-I would die! I absolutely cannot bear the thought of you and that woman together. I would die!”

…That’s way too extreme.

I hugged Amal.

Stroking her back to calm her down.

“Hey, don’t talk about dying so easily. I said ‘what if.’ Look, she’s just a friend. Why would you doubt that?”

“But, but! Andy-sama…”

As she clung to me and started to cry, looking utterly insecure. She seemed like a trembling, abandoned puppy. I realized just how much this girl had gotten to me when I found her pitiful state endearing.

“You’re my proper girlfriend, so have some confidence.”

“Girlfriend…?”

“Yeah, lover. I do, properly… love you.”

I excused my awkward confession by blaming my Japanese roots, mentally cursing my ineptitude. But I didn’t regret it, though I couldn’t shake off the embarrassment, and I knew my face was turning red.

Hearing my words, Amal beamed a radiant smile as if backlit by a halo. She had shifted so quickly from crying to smiling – a classic case of ‘now the crow cried, now the crow laughed.’

“I love you too! I love you, Andy-sama!”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks.”

I hugged the clingy puppy and lifted her sideways. She let out a short squeal and wrapped her arms around my neck.

The girl was fragile and light.

I felt happy and started spinning around the room with her. Her silver hair spread out like the Milky Way. Amal looked around with wide eyes, clinging desperately to me. I laughed and sat down on the bed, still holding her.

“Ahaha, sorry, sorry. Was that not okay?”

“…Andy-sama is mean. You know exactly how Amal feels.”

She pouted, cheeks puffed with displeasure.

Caught, I smiled and squeezed her swollen cheeks with both hands. Her supple skin clung to my fingers.

I remembered a time before when I pinched her cheeks like this. Back then, I lacked resolve and pinched her nose to cover up. But now, I was different. I could confidently accept Amal.

I leaned in and dropped a kiss on the girl’s lips. I repeated the peck several times. I wet her delicate lips with my tongue, lightly biting. Then, he quickly slipped my tongue into the gap between her shyly parted lips. I search for her curled tongue in her restraint and entwine it. I gently sucked her tongue and traced her gums to ease her tension.

Amal tried desperately to follow my request, but she clumsily stuck her tongue out. She loved her unfamiliar and hesitant way, so she changed her angle and pressed her lips even more deeply with mine.

She intertwined their tongues like that for a while, and when she could no longer maintain her rationality, she parted her lips. At that, a string of saliva was drawn.

Amal has a look of ecstasy on her face, then she rests her body on my chest and she murmurs softly.

“Andy-sama… will you make me your lover?”

“What are you doing now? Ever since I accepted you, I’ve always thought of you as my girlfriend.”

“I’m so happy! I’m Andy-sama’s lover!”

As soon as Amal pushed me down onto the bed, she showered my face with kisses. I said it tickled, but I wasn’t entirely displeased.

However, sensing why Amal had been so anxious about our relationship until now, I felt a bit disheartened.

She must undoubtedly be experiencing her first love with me.

It’s only natural that she doesn’t know how to handle it. She probably never had anyone to teach her the ABCs of love.

Moreover, the church’s view of women, essentially as beings for childbirth, and the stance that they existed for no other purpose, shadowed her perception of love. Love was considered only within the context of marriage, and even that marriage was a matter of arrangement between parents. Such a background must have cast a shadow over Amal’s understanding of love.

Therefore, as her senior, I must lead her properly. The weight of that responsibility made me sigh involuntarily.

Author’s Note : Amal’s views are more reflective of a medieval European standard of marriage rather than love.

tln : Thanks for 40 rating on NU. its really hype me up. please keep support this novel :D. PS. you can read ahead if you want. Also more bonus chapter if you rate more on NovelUpdates.