The Heart's Confinement

The Man Who Came Late at Night

Inside Father Aelio's solitary dormitory, candles carved with intricate Christian symbols stood quietly on simple wooden candlesticks. A dim yellowish candlelight burned silently, occasionally making faint crackling sounds. Aelio led a frugal life; despite the church providing each room with three candlesticks, he usually lit only one candle in the evening, casting his room in subdued light. A thin shadow was reflected on the white wall, hunched over a desk, the sound of pen scratching against paper echoing clearly in the quiet night.

"Click," the abrupt sound of the door opening rang out. Aelio looked up in confusion. As he recognized the visitor's face, his heart sank instantly, an inexplicable chill creeping up from his feet and spreading rapidly through his body. He heard his own heartbeat starting to pound violently, faster and faster, like the beat of a drum.

The visitor was the man who had stood under the trees in front of the church that evening. He lightly brushed off non-existent dust from his clothes and, without waiting for an invitation, casually entered the dormitory. He walked over to the stunned missionary, surveying the room as if he belonged there.

"Your new abode is quite charming. Small as a sparrow, yet all the essentials are here," he remarked in a familiar, deep, magnetic voice. But to Aelio, it sounded like a whisper from a demon. Lost in bewilderment, the demon seemed to suddenly realize something and widened his smile.

"It seems my arrival caught Miss Aelia off guard. Forgive my intrusion, lovely Miss Aelia. Allow me to formally introduce myself, William Graham, Bishop of Zaik District. Coincidentally, the church you are in falls under my jurisdiction..."

Slowly, the demon removed the black round hat from his head. Despite the customary greetings expected between missionaries, he inclined slightly in a familiar gentlemanly gesture towards the stiff figure sitting by the candlelight. Contrary to his polite and gentle words, there was something predatory in his sharp, leopard-like eyes as they unabashedly roamed over his companion. Aelio found it hard to breathe under the invasive gaze. For a moment, he felt like prey, ensnared by a leopard's stare, unable to escape its claws no matter how hard he struggled. Yet Aelio forced himself to lift his head, attempting to meet the demon's eyes without fear.

Aelio's intense stare caught Graham off guard for a moment, but the demon's mouth soon curved into a deeper smile, seemingly satisfied with his prey's reaction, his eyes gleaming with increased interest. Slowly, he approached the slender figure in the candlelight, gently placing his hands on the straight shoulders, feeling the involuntary tremble beneath his palms. The trembling of this prey, instinctively fearful, strangely soothed the pains and scars that had torn at Graham's heart for years, even exciting the demon's own heart to tremble.

In the mirror on the table, Aelio saw the demon's eyes close in apparent enjoyment, revealing a faint scar of some age, causing Aelio to involuntarily delve into memories of the past. It must be said that, aside from those captivating eyes, the face in the mirror was remarkably handsome, having shed much of its youthful naivety from five years ago. But once those eyes opened, it was as if Satan spread his wings, eyes filled with merciless cruelty.

Sensing the body beneath his palms gradually relaxing, Graham abruptly opened his eyes. Seeing the serene face in the mirror instantly pale, the demon flashed his sharp, white teeth in a satisfied smile.

"Miss Aelia, after five years, have you found any time to think of your teacher?"

Before the slender fingers could move, the missionary's hat had already slipped off his head, falling to the ground, and slightly curly golden hair cascaded down like a waterfall over his shoulders. In the mirror, the once handsome face of Aelio the missionary transformed instantly into that of a rare beauty named "Aelia," with cherry lips and pearly teeth. Few men could resist such beauty, yet Graham merely glanced nostalgically at the mirror for a moment before pulling a silver hairpin from his pocket.

This hairpin was longer than most on the market, with two rows of fine, pointed teeth that fit together seamlessly, more exquisite than even the sophisticated accessories used by duchesses. However, the surface of the part held in his hand was not as smooth, showing visible signs of wear, a style unseen in the market. Clearly, this was a meticulously polished handmade item.

Skillfully, Graham used this silver clip to pin up Aelia's golden locks, the fine teeth embedded tightly in her silky hair, its exceptional length serving both the functionality of a hairpin and hair clip. Aelia bit her lip tightly, her cheeks slightly pale from fright, watching the man in the mirror adeptly arrange her hair.

It must be said that this hairpin securely held her hair more than her usual accessories. But... there was something oddly familiar about this hairpin, a vague suspicion surfacing deep within Aelia's heart.

"Miss Aelia, I never expected you would have the courage to become Mr. Aelio. Keep the gift safe; I'd be very displeased if I find it not on your head."

Aelia's heart sank instantly.