Antagonized Bachelorette Enjoying a Simple Life - Chapter 19
"I'm truly sorry about that too."
The one who had reappeared wasn't her, but Percival. After all, Catherine was the one who had settled in the Christopher Duchy. The sharp, edgy aura around Percival quickly calmed. It seemed his mood swings weren't limited to his eyes anymore.
"You've changed. Well, with that much growth, your insides couldn't have stayed the same."
"All I've grown is maybe half a handspan at best?"
He narrowed his eyes as if measuring her actual height. But then he abruptly whipped his head away.
"Your face looks too well-fed and pampered—it's enough to turn my stomach. This place must be better than that damned hometown of yours?"
"Much better."
"...Well. That settles it."
Whether he'd changed his mind or that was all he'd intended anyway, Percival left those empty words behind and hopped over the crumbled fence, departing the mansion.
"Tch."
But as he walked away confidently, he suddenly stopped dead. Then he turned back toward Catherine.
"I've been thinking it over. You should probably move the mansion."
Why the hell is he telling me to move house like it's his business? Catherine, now hypersensitive to anything mansion-related, glared at him.
"Because if I'm still an idiot, I'll definitely come back."
That really was the absolute last thing he said. Percival turned away without a shred of lingering attachment. For someone who'd declared he'd act all clingy, he sure strode off with confidence. Thanks to him, the resolve to settle down—which hadn't budged even with the magic circle's presence—shook just a little.
Not long after, someone called out to Catherine, who stood there blankly.
"How about coming inside now?"
It was Cesare. He extended his hand toward her from between the crumbled fence.
"Unless you want our eyes to meet when he turns back."
He must have heard the whole commotion. Of course he had—what could be more thrilling than watching others bicker? Catherine took Cesare's hand and climbed out through the mess of broken bricks.
"You think I'd turn around?"
"Believing otherwise would be harder."
He continued, scrutinizing her face closely.
"Of course, I didn't eavesdrop because I wanted to."
Seeing his soft smile made pointless regret bubble up in Catherine. She should have chased him off quietly. Or at least moved somewhere else to talk.
Was I always the type to worry about others' eyes like this?
Would she have felt this regret even without Cesare at the mansion? Catherine superimposed Demian onto Cesare's face. Hmm. Probably not—I'd have acted freely and comfortably.
"Was that Charles Kilholder?"
Catherine stared at him with a what-are-you-talking-about expression. Then she remembered Percival had been wearing a bread bag over his head and shook her head.
"No. If it had been him, I'd have clung to him blatantly and made his face flush red. He was trying to investigate because he thought the mansion was suspicious. He'd back off completely if some scandalous rumor tarnished his honor."
Cesare gazed down at the crown of her head, then grabbed her shoulders and led her along. But the words from his mouth weren't what she'd hoped for.
"Then who was that guy just now?"
Who? Catherine couldn't tell if he was asking the man's identity or her relationship to him.
"...Didn't you hear the story?"
"Just the last few lines."
"What did we look like to you?"
Cesare replied in a casual tone.
"Arch-enemies? Or debt collectors?"
"...Close enough."
Looking back, it was a conversation easy to misunderstand that way. It was actually a relief that Cesare had. For some reason, her mind eased, and a sigh of relief escaped.
No need to burden him with my grubby past.
Just before entering the mansion, she glanced back—the half-collapsed wall had returned to its original state, as if it had never fallen. Catherine sighed in relief once more.
House repair costs saved.
Boom!
It was early morning. Catherine jolted awake on instinct, with no idea why. The massive roar and vibration made her think the world was ending at first, but as the sleep fog cleared, she realized something was wrong with the mansion.
If her memory served, something similar had happened before.
"No way..."
She bolted out of the bedroom without properly grabbing an outer garment. Seeing the bright sun where the corridor wall should be, it looked like the mansion had half-collapsed again—just like last time.
The only difference was that this time's culprit had a horse head instead of a goat.
"Kuhahaha! This body has finally reached Eden! Success in the summoning I've awaited so long!"
Why did these things always spout the same lines while smashing someone else's house? Catherine clutched her dizzying forehead and leaned against the wall.
"Where's Yaong?"
He hadn't been around since morning—probably off playing in the sunny outdoors. Time to earn his keep!
Still, it wasn't as apocalyptic as she'd feared. Or was it? Half the mansion was rubble—that was pretty bad.
"Hmm. I smell some tasty prey somewhere."
The horse head visible below the crumbled second-floor floorboards started heading toward the hall. Luckily, it was the time Roze had gone down to the market for groceries.
Then what about Demian?
No matter how skilled a knight, he couldn't easily handle that. If he got squished like a sandwich...
Racking her brain desperately, Catherine finally found a hopeful answer. She pulled out the small key she always wore around her neck, just in case. It was the one Cesare had given her a few days ago.
'You often come and go from my mansion through doors.'
So couldn't she reach Cesare through a door too? Catherine inserted the key into her closed bedroom door.
Click.
Though tiny compared to the keyhole, it fit perfectly. Without hesitation, she turned the knob and opened it.
The sight beyond drew a soft gasp of admiration. Instead of the transparent pink canopy bed, there was an opulent office with a calm wooden scent.
Cesare sat at the desk, scribbling something furiously. He slowly lifted his head, and their eyes met.
He wears glasses too.
Thin gold frames over a loose shirt with a vest. It was the Cesare from the newspaper, right in front of her.
"...What is it?"
Snapping to, Catherine rushed toward him. As she approached, Cesare straightened, removed his glasses, and rubbed his eyes.
"First... I'm sorry. Sorry for barging in so rudely, Cesare. I had no choice—I need your help right now. Some freakish horse-headed monster is smashing up my mansion!"
She blurted it all out in one breathless rush.
"Horse head? ...Ah."
He echoed her at first as if not understanding, then tilted his head with an even more confused look.
"You wouldn't need to come to me for that issue."
Eh? Those words left Catherine speechless, like she'd swallowed honey. It sounded like he was saying she shouldn't rely on him to solve her own problems.
He's not wrong. There's no reason he has to help me.
A faint but definite shame made her cover one cheek with her hand. Cesare peered into her face, then shook his head a bit urgently.
"No, don't misunderstand. I've already given you something useful."
It felt like he was talking about a secret only he knew. Catherine replied with her hand still over her face.
"What are you talking about? This key? It's useful since I can visit you anytime now. But what I meant was..."
Screech.
Before she finished, Cesare pushed back his chair and stood. He draped his jacket over her shoulders from where it hung on the chair, then gently guided her by the shoulders as he spoke.
"Got it. I understand exactly what you're saying. I'm not nearly kind enough to step in personally and make you see sense... but I guess I have no choice this time."
Was that annoyed but I'll help just this once? They returned to the mansion through the open door. The dust choking the corridor from the collapsed wall had settled somewhat. Cesare turned the key in the opposite doorknob and pulled it out. He froze mid-handover, lifting it for a closer look.
"You wouldn't have... kept it around your neck the whole time, would you?"
His gaze held emotions too complex for one word—odd, inexplicable.
It made her feel strange.
"Yeah, pretty much."
She played it casual, but it didn't feel casual. To change the subject, Catherine pushed Cesare's back toward the stairs.
"Hurry up. What if something happens while we're dawdling?"
As he slowly stepped in the direction she pushed, Cesare fiddled with the key's cord.
"This cord's no good. I'll replace it later."
At this rate, it'd take ten minutes to find the horse head. She snatched the key from his hand and hurried down the stairs ahead.
And there, rolling across the hall floor like a ball, was the grotesque horse head. Not one grazing on fodder and galloping plains, but the head of the mansion-wrecking horse monster.
Catherine called out to the man wiping his sword with a disgusted face in front of it.
"Demian?"
At her voice, the man snapped his head up.
"...Miss? You're alive? You look fine?"
Demian approached, diligently wiping the black goo from his sword. He bowed casually to Cesare beside her.
"Did you go call Lord Cesare? I thought you were horse-head chow and I was in the middle of mourning!"
That's what I should be saying.
Still, thanks to him, she belatedly understood Cesare's words. The "usefulness" of Demian he'd mentioned was exactly this.
Demian was a man with formidable swordsmanship befitting an Imperial Knight, and as long as he stayed here, she—the mansion's owner—would be protected.
Cesare cared about her safety. Demian was living proof.
Pretending to stare at the horse head disintegrating into ash, she glanced sideways at Cesare. It felt like her teacup was filling not with tea, but satisfaction meant for her.
What do you call this feeling?