[BL] Accidentally Becoming the Healer of the Deranged Archduke novel Chapter 369

Chapter 369: Magic Of Silver-Grey Eyes

The back garden looked nothing like the church itself. It wasn’t noisy, nor did it feel cramped.

The air carried the faint scent of snow and freshly brewed coffee, set on a small circular table.

For a fleeting moment, Xion wondered why these people from the church were so obsessed with their drinks.

Luckily, it wasn’t jasmine, or he might’ve turned right back.

At the paladin’s polite gesture, Xion took a seat on one of the two chairs.

The arrangement alone made it clear: only the holy priest and his personally invited guest were to sit.

But did the knight care? Of course not.

Under the paladin’s incredulous gaze, Ray dragged the chair next to Xion and dropped into it without a shred of ceremony.

"I’m afraid we might need another chair," Xion said to the paladin, pulling back his hood.

It was pointless to hide his face now.

"...I understand."

Was it just Xion’s imagination, or did he catch a hint of resentment in the paladin’s eyes? It was definitely aimed at Ray.

He couldn’t help but smile at Ray. "You’ve made him hate you."

"The feeling’s mutual."

Before Xion could dwell on the knight and paladin’s silent war, the air seemed to shift.

He felt his presence before he saw the high priest.

"I apologize for calling this meeting on such short notice, Your Grace."

The words that tumbled out of his lips were like a chant. As if the high priest wasn’t merely greeting but singing prayers.

When Xion finally turned, his breath caught. For a moment, he couldn’t tell if the world had stopped, or just him alone.

The priest had lowered his hood, and though the robe was the same ceremonial white with gold embroidery, it no longer looked humble.

White hair framed a caramel-toned face, its symmetry so precise it didn’t seem human. Warm silver-grey eyes, impossibly soft and bright, locked onto his.

The high priest looked radiant. Benevolent. Dare Xion say... ethereal.

His beauty wasn’t the kind that merely mesmerized you. No, this was the kind of face that made you believe, if there was a god, this is what he must look like.

Before he even realized it, Xion was on his feet, reaching for the priest.

A larger, warmer hand caught his and shook it in a greeting.

"Nice to meet you." His lips curled up in a breathtaking smile as he said, "I have been very curious to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too... Father Michael."

The words nearly got stuck in Xion’s throat, not because of the greeting, but because of the name.

Why do I know him?

Perhaps sensing his turmoil, Michael sighed.

"Sit. We have much to discuss."

Following the words, Xion sank back into his chair. All his actions were rather mechanical as his gaze lingered on that perfect face.

"How have you been?"

"Not good. Lost my eyes."

The answer tumbled out of his mouth rather abruptly.

Startled, Xion blinked his eyes, and as if finally coming out of some trance, he dropped his gaze to his clenched palms.

The nails had dug into his skin, leaving bloody crescents. A sharp, painful reminder of how close he’d come to falling for something dangerous.

The fleeting warmth he’d felt moments ago evaporated. All that remained was the feeling of being stripped bare and examined like a prey.

How could I be so stupid?

"Murder is a sin, Father Michael. Is it not?"

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