Chapter 22
Buttoning his shirt one by one, Percival approached. As he drew near, the air felt refreshingly cool. Kneeling down, he craned his neck toward Catherine's face with a mischievous grin.
'Shall I make other things your first too?' His voice was a subtle tickle against her ear, but Catherine wasn't one to blush and shrink away.
'Our savage Percival. You don't really think I'm a first for anything, do you?'
Percival grinned back, his eyes pondering how best to devour her to his satisfaction. He soon tugged at her long hair, whispering close.
'Who the hell are you, really? There's no way someone like you is just a maid working in some noble house.'
'Insulting maids now?'
'With a face like that and so young? Any old, ugly noble would've claimed you ages ago.'
'Oh dear, no one's claimed me yet.'
Catherine leaned in until their breaths mingled.
'So, Percival, are you planning to claim me?'
'If I do, will you come along?'
'No. As if.'
As she rose to fetch her hat, a sudden thought struck her. Her mother had already left her behind. It had been years. But what if? Just what if. What if, as Percival said, her mother had abandoned her—and Orleans—for good? If that were true, what should she do? For the first time, she concluded that if her mother had truly forsaken her, she'd have no lingering attachment to Orleans. Of course, she never imagined that mere fancy would become reality.
Magi finally stirred after three hours with her eyes closed. With a weary face, she shoved her feet into her shoes.
"It's already this late. I need to head back to the hotel and fill my stomach. …Ah! I'm grateful, but please don't suggest dinner. It wouldn't be satisfying anyway."
"No food fit for you here, so don't worry."
"That's a huge relief," Magi said, turning away just before fully exiting the mansion. "Sis, you're not thinking of skipping Anne's wedding, are you?"
"Not at all."
"And you won't just sit quietly either, right?"
"Absolutely not."
"Then?"
Her big eyes sparkled with anticipation. Seeing that face melted the tension Catherine had held all day, her lips curving into a faint smile. Just months ago, Magi had always looked at her with that exact gaze.
"It's a secret. If you're curious, sit next to me that day."
In truth, she had no plan set. She'd only heard about the wedding that afternoon—deciding on chaos overnight was impossible.
Magi grumbled with a sulky face. "…There's a huge shipboard party in Christopher in a week. Exclusive invite-only, but I got lucky."
So what? Was she bragging? Unlike Anne, Magi had always been a decent little sister to her. Catherine offered sincere congratulations.
"Congrats."
"No, I didn't say it for that…"
Magi stammered unusually. "What I mean is, I'll be visiting here once—or twice—more within the week. …Just so you know."
With that declaration, like a battle cry, she spun on her heel.
"Why does everyone keep coming here?"
Percival too—what reason did someone from a fancier mansion have to visit? Soon enough, Magi vanished with graceful, haughty steps, as if her sore foot had been a lie.
The next day.
"Hi, sis. The weather's super gloomy today. I feel dumb for bringing a parasol just in case."
Catherine had expected at least three days before another visit, but Magi showed up early morning. Shoulders puffed dramatically, waist cinched like an ant's in her overly chic outfit—she screamed tourist. Christopher's bustling heart was a full twenty-minute carriage ride away. Still strutting perfectly dressed everywhere, as always. For the first time in ages, Catherine truly felt reunited with her little sister.
"Sorry, Magi, but I haven't decided how to ruin Anne's wedding yet."
"I'm just here as a guest?"
Catherine pondered: invite her in or not? Magi herself was fine. It was just… inconvenient with a visitor already inside.
'Already have company.'
While Catherine hesitated, Magi breezed past like she owned the place, heading for the parlor. Or trying to—until she spotted Chezare leaning by the stairs.
"…Your Grace?"
Their gazes clashed in midair. Chezare's piercing stare at the intruder; Magi's frantic scan, wondering if she'd entered the wrong house.
'Weren't you supposed to wait quietly in the kitchen? Why come to the hall?'
Her sister's twisted expression turned to Catherine. For Magi's utter confusion, Catherine gave her prepared answer.
"No. He looks similar, but he's my…"
This was the trickiest part. Too lazy for a proper cover, she blurted the first word that came.
"He's a tenant in my mansion."
He did show up unlocking the door, so it was sort of true. Thankfully, Chezare didn't nitpick.
"No way!"
Magi cried, face screaming don't lie. She backed up to Catherine's side. Yes, that was the normal reaction. Roze had fallen for it too easily.
Catherine addressed Chezare. "This is my sister, Magi."
"Ah."
His slow nod screamed leisure. Who even owned the house anymore?
Chezare had arrived moments before Magi's bell rang—to deliver the subsidy he'd mentioned before. Of all times, why now! Oblivious to her turmoil, Chezare brazenly stated the obvious.
"Perfectly understandable to be startled. I do resemble Duke Christopher quite a bit."
"…He's really not Duke Chezare? For real?"
"Of course. Why would I lie to a young lady I just met?"
Chezare smiled softly and strode over, standing before her. His stunning beauty and radiant smile effortlessly disarmed her. Magi hated losing from the start. Her stiff shoulders relaxed as she extended her hand first.
"Sorry, that was rude of me right off the bat. I'm Magi Orleans, Catherine's sister…"
"Just call me Magi."
Catherine cut in hastily. Different surnames would raise flags, and above all, she didn't want Chezare hearing "Orleans."
"Pleased to meet you, Miss Magi. Chezare will do."
As Magi gaped blankly, he shook her hand lightly and released. Then, as if an afterthought, added casually,
"Oh. Though the name matches too, I'm distinctly not Duke Christopher."
"…So same face and name, but definitely different? What an incredible coincidence."
"You must be young and unaware, miss. The world is built on countless coincidences. They gather to form inevitability."
"Oh? So what inevitability makes your friend's face and name match His Grace Chezare?"
"You'll learn in time."
A brief, heavy silence fell. Magi's throat creaked like rusty hinges as she whipped around, startling unnaturally and yanking Catherine's hand.
"Oh! Look at me! I forgot—I have tea with a friend. Sorry, sis. I just got here, but I gotta go. Can't believe I'd mess up like this."
So suddenly?
"If you're okay with it, come with? New friends from here. It'll be fun."
"Thanks, but I'm in the middle of talking with Chezare."
"Wait outside then?"
Not like Magi at all. Her face was pale and anxious, like she was fleeing something. Catherine assumed it was Chezare.
"No. If you can, come back tomorrow, Magi."
Magi didn't reply, pulling pen and notepad from her bag to scribble hastily.
"Here, my address. But the hotel I'm at is nicer—come there, sis. You must."
Catherine took the note in a daze.
"Great meeting you. Have a good time."
Magi bid farewell without glancing at Chezare, vanishing faster than she'd appeared.
Catherine shrugged. "My sister's pretty sharp, huh?"
"What're you on about? If it's just sister bragging, sure."
"Wasn't bragging."
"Back to business… I need your Imperial Bank account, Miss Panya."
Catherine sighed shortly. She knew what that meant. Unlike tossing 1,000 reids in cash, this was a proper transfer. But unwelcome—her Orleans account still existed there.
"Cash is fine, right? It's just three months' worth."
"Even for three months, I can't recommend cash. Especially in a mansion prone to incidents."
He was right. This place could have weirdos breaking in, smashing things, threatening her anytime. With his money as her entire fortune, cash was too risky.
"…It might be too old to still be active. I'll check and let you know—wait a bit."
But against expectations, Chezare showed no sign of leaving. Not standing idly—he stared into space, brows faintly furrowed in intense focus on something unseen. Something was off.
"More to say?"
Chezare silently met her eyes. The rare smile from lately was gone.
"Yes, the most important errand… If you don't mind, could you close your eyes? Just for a moment."