Chapter 2
Catherine had to shell out a small fortune and no small amount of time just to escape Orleans. Changing her destination midway had cost her even more in wasted funds. The coachman, pitying her plight, had cut her a deal, but a fortune was still a fortune.
The place she finally arrived at was the Christopher Duchy, the most prosperous land in the eastern reaches of the Iterana Empire. True to its protection under the great archmage Duke Chezare, the city brimmed with vibrant energy.
It was only after she'd settled into an inn and nearly two weeks had flown by that good news reached Catherine, who'd been tirelessly scouting for a place to live.
"It's big."
"Heh heh, that's right. This mansion is the largest residence in northern Christopher. As you can see, there are two huge annexes right next to the main building."
"And the price is low."
"Yes, yes! You could never buy a plot this size in Christopher for that price! And on top of that, such a splendid mansion? Ugh, it's the icing on the cake, isn't it?"
"The view's nice too."
"Of course, miss. With your pace, it's just a twenty-minute walk to the bustling northern district. The harbor's a quick carriage ride away. You know Christopher, right? Especially the northern territory—it's a famous port city. Perfect for seaside views!"
"So why's the price so cheap?"
Catherine's expression didn't flicker, but cold sweat began beading on the realtor's forehead.
Catherine had chosen Christopher as her new home for a simple reason: it excelled in finance, culture, arts, education—everything—and was filthy rich to boot. And by some stroke of luck, she'd found a decent listing on the outskirts just days ago. That listing was this rundown mansion she was touring now.
"Ahem. So doesn't that mean you're incredibly lucky, miss? You couldn't find a mansion like this in this spot anywhere on the continent. It's heaven-sent luck!"
But no matter how she turned it over in her mind, something was off. No way could a building like this go for that price.
Catherine passed through what was clearly once a garden, now overgrown with weeds, and inspected the interior of the main building. The curtains were torn, the wooden stairs creaked, but nothing seemed like a major issue. Still weird.'It's too solid for the price.'
"What do you think? It's just a bit dirty from being vacant so long—no collapses or anything…."
"So what's the problem?"
Even as a former noble lady, she'd hustled plenty on her own to handle things. She'd kept meticulous ledgers for years to stretch her meager allowance, honing a sharp sense for money. She knew damn well this price was abnormal.
"Well… there's no problem, they say! It's purely your good fortune…."
"Then we're done."
She cut him off flatly, turning on her heel without a second glance. As she unfurled her faded parasol and stepped out of the main building, she added, "I was tempted by the flashy southern-style mansion, the big garden, the great location. But looks like there's some massive flaw that ruins it all. Cancel the contract—pretend it never happened. I can't trust you with matchmaking anymore."
No matter how absurdly low it was for the property, the price was still a stretch for Catherine. 'I was getting ahead of myself, dreaming too big. Better find something modest around here. Securing a job as a maid should be easy enough….'
That was when the realtor came scrambling after her, jumping in her path.
"W-wait, miss! Just hold on a second!"
Catherine looked up, her face crumpled in frustration. The realtor scratched the back of his neck, smacking his lips, then whispered, "T-truth is, there's a really scary rumor about this mansion. And it's half-true or something—four contracts canceled in the last two years."
"A rumor?"
The realtor nodded gravely. "Yeah… sigh. Ghosts come out of the basement. On full moon nights, you hear screams, a woman crying…. My mistake, miss. I'll find you a good place—just give me a bit."
Ghosts. Screams. A woman's cries. She didn't need to hear more. Catherine cut him off swiftly.
"Perfect. I'll take it."
"…Pardon?"
While the realtor gaped like an idiot, Catherine rummaged in her bag for her fountain pen. She uncapped it carefully, then thrust out her other hand impatiently.
"I'm contracting this mansion. I was lonely without friends anyway—now I won't have a dull moment. Suits me just fine."
She snatched the contract from the stunned realtor's arms and scrawled her signature. 'Catherine Panya.' The name etched atop the dense contract clauses took her maternal family's surname, Panya.
The man's face lit up as he dashed off to fetch her luggage from the bustling district. Contract sealed—now for her remaining funds…. She sighed involuntarily. The coins clinking deep in her bag were pathetic. Barely enough to hire an unskilled maid for four months. It was everything left after selling all her jewels except her mother's legacy—her entire fortune.
'Still, not bad for a wild swing.'
Less than two hours later, the realtor returned, beaming ear-to-ear—probably thrilled to unload the white elephant.
"Luggage is all out front by the main building! Here's your contract… oh! And a little gift from us. Great for cleaning. Ha, I guarantee it."
He dropped off a large luggage bag and a broom, then vanished. The carriage rattled down the hill, leaving the mansion silent save for the wind rustling through the weeds.
"Hm."
Now what? She'd snagged a home, yet it felt so daunting. Catherine hauled her bag up to what looked like a bedroom on the second floor and dumped it. After much deliberation, she grabbed the broom and swept vigorously.
"Ugh."
With windows left open so long, the floor was caked in dust—white turning black. But even sweeping nonstop until sunset painted the autumn sky….
"The room's too big."
And not just big—there were too many. She'd collapse from housework at this rate.
"It's fine. Don't rush, Catherine. Compared to Orleans, you're in paradise now."
She tossed the broom and headed out, figuring two years of tenants meant some household goods lingered. Luckily, she spotted a linen sack near the bathroom. Grabbing a rag-like scrap and the sack, she dashed to the stream behind.
But even scrubbing until sweat poured….
"The rag's too filthy."
Sunset bled red across the sky, stars emerging one by one.
"Ah… haa…."
Damn. When would this end? Could she even finish? Yanking her bangs in irritation, she jammed the rag into the sack for an improvised mop and returned. By the time she'd mopped the bedroom floor, the Milky Way streamed beyond the dust-hazed window.
'A bit far from the city? It's too dark.'
No electricity yet. Thank goodness she'd noted candle spots in daylight. She lit one on the dresser. But even bathed in its yellow glow….
"The candle's too short."
This was beyond worst—pure bullshit. She set the candle down carefully, took a deep breath. Calm, calm. Steady now, she descended to the first floor with candle in hand. Wardrobes, dressers, rusted dishes—surely more candles lurked if she searched.
'Candles… where'd we keep sundries in Orleans?'
Her sharp gaze fixed on the basement stairs. Logically, a storeroom below. But the chill wafting up felt ominous, the darkness thick like an ant den.
'This mansion has a very scary rumor.'
The realtor's voice echoed in her head.
"…Yeah, right."
She knew tempting fate like that always backfired. But no choice—only spot left for candles. Fingering the spiral wall, she descended.
Creeeak.
Pushing the unlocked wooden door revealed a vast empty space, as expected. Wind howled, cold air brushing her cheek. But Catherine barely registered the chill.
"What in the world."
Was she dreaming mid-descent? Her eyes beheld the impossible: the windowless, candless basement floor blazed with light—from an intricately drawn massive circular pattern!
"He who possesses me shall rule the world."
As chill air hit her cheek, a creepy voice reverberated through the basement. The pattern glowed red, and like a living thing, it uttered the eerie words. Catherine stared dumbly before snapping back and retreating up the stairs to the bedroom. She grabbed the mop.
Candle in one hand, mop in the other, breathing hard, she stormed back down.
What the hell….
"Such a huge graffiti! Who the fuck ruins the floor like that just to piss people off? If you're gonna scribble, at least do it clean!"
She rolled up her sleeves irritably and scrubbed the pattern furiously with the mop. Whatever tough ink they'd used, it faded sluggishly despite her full force.
"Hah… let's see if I fall asleep first or you vanish."
She rinsed in a stinking wooden tub, scrubbed, cursed the previous owners. Splash, splash.
Then—heavy footsteps like wet boots beyond the creaky door. Catherine panted, turning toward the entrance. Flickering candle in swirling air. Her back prickled oddly.
How long passed? A misty, unknown voice pierced the dark.
"Who goes there."
Before her eyes widened, an unidentified man's body hurtled at her face. First she registered the irritated purple irises. Porcelain-pale skin like Eastern whiteware, lips set hard. Blood scent overwhelmed the dank underground stench.
Pitch black, yet his unreal aura pressed vividly against her skin. Dizzingly chaotic beauty—like from a dream. The ethereal beauty before her thrust a sharp, translucent sword under her chin.
"The Pope's hound? You found me here admirably. I'll give you special praise."
Incomprehensible words, then he smiled—beautiful as blooming flowers.
Catherine forgot to breathe, staring. The intruder was soaked head to toe, defying the dry night outside. Muddy smears caked his black leather boots.
Mud. Wet mud, even.
The man leaned close, voice wary. "Nice disguise. Almost fooled me into thinking you were some ordinary city woman. Getting harder by the day…."
"Clean it."
Gathering every ounce of strength from mopping, she shoved the blade from her jaw and pointed at his trail. Intruder or not, how dare he track mud! She thrust the mop at him. Her heart tore at the sopping mess on the stone floor.
"What're you staring at like an idiot? I said clean the floor! And don't shove a sword in someone's face on first meet. Breaking and entering's bad enough—you wanna get reported for attempted murder too?"