The Truman Show – 5

When the time came, Nikolai, the village representative, came to his room.

Guided by his affable demeanor, Inho headed to the dining hall.

As the dining hall doors opened, he saw people huddled around a long table.

Inho, who had expected a simple dinner, was slightly taken aback by the larger-than-expected turnout.

“May the light be with you.”

Half a dozen men greeted him with the religious salutation.

“This is all…”

Wondering what was going on, he looked at the village representative, but Nikolai simply smiled broadly and led him to the seat of honor.

Having been ushered to the head of the table, Inho looked around at the faces of the people seated around the table.

Immaculate impressions and impeccable attire. Inho was reminded of the times he had dined with nobles at the Order headquarters.

“Hello.”

Inho hid his embarrassment with a smile and greeted them.

He wondered if so many nobles lived in the village.

“They have come from afar to see the Saint.”

As if answering his question, Nikolai sat next to him and said.

“You’re not from Madini Village.”

Inho said, placing his hand on the cup on the table.

“Yes, everyone came when they heard the Saint was coming…”

Nikolai said with a good-natured smile, and Inho responded with a smile.

“So you came all the way here just to see me.”

As Inho said as if confirming, a stout man laughed heartily and said.

“To see the Saint, this is nothing.”

Hahahahahaha!

The men sitting around the dining hall burst into loud laughter.

“The Saint must be hungry, I’ll have the food brought out.”

At Nikolai’s signal, maids began to bring out the food one by one.

Steaming and glossy dishes were placed in front of the people.

“……..”

The people who had come to see Inho began to pick up their forks and knives.

Then they looked at Inho’s face.

Inho met their gazes for a while, then put his hands together and closed his eyes.

They looked bewildered at his actions.

“We give thanks for this well-prepared meal.”

As Inho began to pray, people hurriedly put down what they were holding.

With that, the prayer ended, and dinner began.

The dinner, which began in a calm atmosphere, gradually regained its liveliness as the maids brought in wine.

It would be more accurate to describe it as boisterousness rather than liveliness.

Before he knew it, Inho frowned slightly at the sound of them drinking and chattering among themselves.

“Saint! Saint, have a drink too.”

A man, whose face had already turned red, shouted at Inho.

Some around him said, “Hey, don’t do that,” trying to stop him, but they were only pretending, and they all seemed to want Inho to join in.

One man flicked his finger at a maid, and the maid poured wine into Inho’s glass.

Inho looked at the wine, which he hadn’t tasted recently.

His face was reflected on the surface of the purplish wine.

He took a deep breath in and out.

The kind smile returned to his face, which had been filled with boredom and annoyance.

“Since it’s a special occasion, I should have a drink. Everyone, fill your glasses.”

Inho picked up his glass, remembering the sight of the poor reaching for hard bread and soup.

Soft bread and roasted meat. Sour wine that enhances the flavor of those things.

A meal fit to treat a Saint.

But why is my heart so uneasy?

Is the wine bitter, or is my heart bitter…?

Inho asked himself, but he couldn’t get a clear answer.

He poured himself another glass of wine and soothed his stomach.

What Maria, who had come with news of Albainin, encountered was the Saint, heavily drunk.

Although drunk, Inho still retained his saintly character, sitting quietly in his chair, nodding like a chicken as he dozed off.

Those who had participated in the meal were also quite drunk, laughing, drinking, and smoking among themselves.

Maria frowned at the smoke that filled the dining hall, making it look hazy.

“Maria.”

The Saint murmured, as if muttering in a dream.

Seeing the Saint’s condition, Maria strode into the dining hall.

Nikolai, who was the quickest to notice, hesitated and stood up, trying to say something to her, but he shut his mouth and sat back down at her fierce glare.

“Such a disgrace at a dinner with the Saint.”

As Maria said in disbelief, the others, who had been struggling with the effects of the alcohol, gradually began to regain their composure.

Maria’s Killing intent gradually drove away their drunkenness.

“Ah… it’s not like that.”

Nikolai opened his mouth again, but Maria made a hissing sound and stopped him again.

“Of course, since the Saint has approved of this, I, as his attendant, cannot hold you responsible.”

Maria supported the Saint. Inho, who had not yet recovered from his intoxication, was limp like a wet laundry.

“It seems the Saint is tired, so I will withdraw now. Please be mindful of your behavior so that you may stand before the Saint in a reverent manner tomorrow.”

With a warning rather than a recommendation, Maria left the dining hall.

The dining hall doors slammed shut, and the people, who had been unable to breathe under the pressure exerted by the Inquisitor, finally gasped for air.

Feeling the weight of the Saint, who could not balance himself and was leaning completely on her, Maria led him to his room.

“Ugh… ugh…”

The Saint, who had not yet recovered from his drunkenness, muttered incomprehensible words, and as soon as he saw the bed, he collapsed onto it.

“Saint. You need to change your clothes…”

This was the first time she had seen the Saint so disheveled, so Maria fidgeted, not knowing what to do.

“Just… wanna sleep.”

The Saint said the first comprehensible words.

“Those clothes are uncomfortable. You should change into something more comfortable.”

Maria tried to talk to the Saint, who was out of his mind.

Moreover, Maria was not comfortable putting the Saint to sleep in clothes that had been splattered with sauce or stained with wine during the meal.

“Too much trouble.”

At the Saint’s words, Maria glanced around the room, where only she and the Saint were present.

“Um… Saint. Then, may I change you…”

Maria stopped halfway through her sentence.

The Saint had always changed his clothes himself. There was no way he would allow her to do it now-

“Okay. Maria, change me.”

Inho said casually with a twisted tongue.

“R-Really? Is it okay?”

Maria widened her eyes and asked the Saint again, but the Saint fell asleep in the same position, lying face down on the bed.

The Saint’s attendant swallowed hard and tried to understand the situation.

“The Saint is drunk right now, so he’s just saying whatever. How dare I look at the Saint’s body? But the Saint has given me permission?”

Maria was talking to herself in the middle of the room.

“What should I do? What should I do? Does that mean I can really change him?”

Fidgeting, Maria looked back and forth between the Saint and the door.

Whether to leave as is, or to change the Saint’s clothes.

It was solely her choice.

“Umm…”

The Saint’s voice reached her ears as she was pondering.

He had turned over and was stretching his neck with his fingers, as if it was uncomfortable.

With that action, a few buttons were undone, revealing his fair skin and collarbone.

Gulp. Maria swallowed involuntarily.

“I-Is that right? Are you uncomfortable?”

Maria smiled awkwardly. Maria slowly moved her feet towards the Saint.

Maria’s heart pounded so hard that it ached at the sight of the Saint lying defenselessly on the bed.

“T-The Saint gave me permission?”

Shifting the responsibility, Maria slowly raised her hand to his shirt.

And began to undo the buttons one by one.

Tick, tick, tick.

As the buttons were undone, the Saint’s white and firm upper body was revealed.

Maria unconsciously bit her lower lip and continued the work.

“Hoo… ha…”

Soon, the shirt was completely removed, and Maria’s gaze went down.

All that was left was the pants.

Maria slowly and very carefully took off the Saint’s pants.

Then came the strong scent of a man.

“Oh, God.”

Maria’s exclamation followed.