#012
I'd been worried he might make a fuss about it, but fortunately, Chezare just nodded nonchalantly.
"Very well, then."
With that, he headed up the stairs through the wide-open wooden door instead of staying put.
Catherine stood there on the magic circle, her face blank for a moment. At first, she wondered where he was going, but then she remembered he'd vanished like this just a few days ago.
Sure enough, soon the sound of footsteps echoed from the basement walls, and Chezare descended.
"Is this the book?"
The item he held out was a book with the grim title Human Husbandry. For Catherine, who knew Chezare's true nature, the title sent a chill down her spine.
"No. The cover color's the same, but it's a different one."
"What was the title of the book you lent me?"
He'd borrowed it on a whim for fun and didn't even remember the title? It was absurd, but Catherine wasn't in a position to scold him.
"Well... sorry, but all I remember is that it started with 'Soul.'"
She herself didn't know the proper title.
"Hm."
Chezare pondered for a moment, then climbed the stairs again and vanished.
His willingness to help without complaint made her feel unnecessarily guilty. A few minutes passed. When he returned, his arms were laden with five or six books—all red-covered tomes whose titles began with "Soul."
"Is it among these?"
"......No."
The third time Chezare returned, his arms were piled with over ten books. His face was hidden behind the mountain as he asked,
"What about now?"
Good lord, there were this many red-covered books starting with "Soul"?! Worried they might be too heavy, she quickly scanned the titles, but the one she wanted wasn't even in sight.
"No. Wait, how do you not remember the title when you borrowed it just days ago? Did you even read it?"
"I'm not sure who's in a position to criticize whom. At least I know the titles of my precious books, unlike some people."
"That was aimed at me, wasn't it."
"Good to know you realize."
Chezare didn't smile. Instead, a short sigh came from behind the stack of books.
"It'd be easier to just move the entire library. No helping it—let's go to my house."
"Pardon?"
Just like that? She blinked once at the sudden suggestion.
The change happened in an instant. The cold, damp air evaporated, replaced by a gentle warmth. Her vision, shrouded in the flickering lantern light of darkness, suddenly blazed bright, forcing her eyes shut. Everything shifted so abruptly that the ground beneath her feet felt like it was spinning dizzily.
"Catherine, you can open your eyes now."
After shielding her face for a while, she slowly lowered her hands at the sound of his voice.
"Uh......"
Where was this? She was no longer in the barren stone-floored basement but standing on a luxurious, pristine carpet. The light pouring in from the expansive window overlooking the sea was an especially vivid, refreshing blue. The intricate sculptures and murals lining the long corridor were dazzlingly opulent.
If her guess was right—and it surely was—this was Chezare's mansion. Not some modest country noble's home, but one boasting unimaginable wealth that even well-off aristocrats couldn't touch.
"Gren."
"Yes, Master Chezare."
Catherine startled and stepped back at the man who popped up behind her. The books had vanished somewhere, and Chezare, now empty-handed, casually rolled up his sleeves.
"Escort her to the drawing room. Miss Panya, I'll bring your book shortly, so wait patiently."
With those words, Chezare vanished entirely.
To think I'd end up at his house over a single book.
And if it was the duke's mansion, wasn't that the Christopher Ducal Residence? Though it didn't quite feel like it. Well, he wouldn't bring someone he barely knew to his actual home, after all.
"Shall we go, then?"
The elderly man called Gren smiled gently.
"Of course. But first, might I have the name of this lovely lady? Feel free to call me Gren. I'm the butler of this house."
"Oh, I'm Catherine Panya. And Chezare and I are..."
Chezare and she were... what? Rivals over mansion ownership? Book lenders? Neither sat right.
"Just acquaintances."
"I see. Would it be all right to call you Miss Catherine, then?"
They probably wouldn't meet again after today, so why bother with familiarity? That kind of address was for people you'd see ongoing.
"Sure."
Following Gren, she strolled through the mansion's blinding splendor. Strangely, despite it being her first visit, she felt no discomfort. Places like this usually felt alien or awkward, but Chezare's home lacked that entirely.
"This place feels really cozy."
"That's a first. Other guests always say it gives them chills... Thank you. I couldn't be more pleased."
Above all, there was no trace of those things she often sensed even in daylight. Sitting in the drawing room chair, Catherine surveyed the area and continued.
"It calms the mind, and every corner is bright without a single shadow."
"......Ah."
Gren nodded with a short exclamation of realization.
"I was remiss and only now understand. Those things wouldn't dare set foot here. Master Chezare forbade it."
What?
"The maids will bring tea shortly, so please make yourself comfortable, Miss Catherine."
Before she could ask what he meant, two maids entered the drawing room. Delicate, upscale desserts were arranged on the table as if for a tea party.
"Miss, what tea do you like? Herbal? Black? Or perhaps milk tea?"
The maid, expertly brewing the tea, asked Catherine.
"I like them all. Lately I've been enjoying light herbal tea, though..."
"Oh! Lucky us. Just say the word—we'll prepare herbal next time too!"
"Give us a heads-up before you visit. I'll have the head chef whip up some delicious madeleines."
The maids vanished from the drawing room amid pealing laughter. Why did they all act like she'd be back tomorrow? Feeling oddly unsettled, Catherine lifted her cup adorned with blooming yellow chrysanthemums.
She'd meant to ask Gren something, but the maids' commotion had made her forget. Sipping her tea quietly, she looked up on a whim.
"Gren, is this the Christopher Ducal Residence by any chance?"
Gren's expression turned peculiar, as if he'd spotted a cat with wings.
"That remark..."
"Miss Panya."
A voice interrupted before he could finish. Chezare entered the drawing room and handed her a worn, familiar red book.
Souls and Memories
Yes, seeing the cover jogged her memory. That was the title.
"Ah, that's the one. Thanks, Chezare. You found it quick. I figured it'd take looking through another hundred."
"It was the only book with a photo tucked inside."
"Makes sense. I put you out over this one, after all."
"This is hardly an inconvenience."
The portrait of her mother she'd sought was safely nestled between the pages, intact. Sighing in relief, she picked up the equally frayed picture.
"......Chezare. Do you happen to know who this is?"
She held it out to him across the table. His face, gazing at her mother, remained impassive as ever.
"Why would I? Who is she?"
"Someone I'm looking for. It was hanging in the bedroom bookshelf. Thought you might know."
The answer came promptly.
"Afraid not. She's no one in my memory."
"I see."
Well, knowing the mansion long ago didn't guarantee he'd seen her mother. Even if someone lived there, they might've stuck to the basement. And her mother might've only stayed a few months.
"That mansion's pretty impressive, though."
"I hear that often."
"You can see the harbor and shipyard."
"If you like it, feel free to go sightseeing."
"Thanks. The horizon touching the sky is amazing too."
The view from this drawing room was, without doubt, the finest of any noble mansion Catherine had visited. Vast sky and blue sea, massive harbor, even the shipyard reeking of iron. You couldn't get better unless overlooking from a high vantage. This splendid home seemed perched somewhere on a mountainside.
"I could believe this was the Christopher Ducal Residence."
"I hear that plenty too."
"They say the view there's great."
"That as well."
She'd expected that answer. Glaring suspiciously, Chezare flashed a genuinely amused smile. He demonstratively lifted a prepared teacup, pouring warm milk into black tea. Then, as if to show off, he smirked—infuriatingly smug.
"Master Chezare, I have a matter to discuss..."
"It can wait. Speak here."
Gren glanced briefly at Catherine, but only for a moment. He obeyed without hesitation.
"It's regarding the holy knights' return."
Tsk. Chezare's face soured instantly with a tongue-click.
"The Holy See's lot are always yapping and noisy. What, do they want a festival thrown in their path for a welcome?"
He'd brought up the Holy See even when first pointing a sword at her. There seemed to be some deep grudge between them.
"Yes."
"Hard to be that consistent."
They actually requested that outright? Thanks to Chezare, she learned something new—and it slightly tarnished her image of the Holy See. The holy knights' arrogance under their banner seemed unchanged from past to present.
Chezare stared blankly into space for a while.
"We'll hold a goat festival."
His voice held no emotion.
"Spread the superstition that getting pelted with goat dung brings blessings. Douse their faces in it, and they'll shut up and move along."
How much did he despise them to spout such nonsense with a guest present? Half pitying him, she asked,
"You're joking, right?"
Swallowing his milk tea, Chezare replied,
"Dead serious."