If Tomorrow Is the End of My Life, What Should I Do Today?
"If I were you, I'd strip naked and run through the square. I'd want to do something I'd never do in my right mind."
Roze's answer was a convincing one. Catherine nodded in agreement as she headed to the garden.
"What the hell is that ridiculously philosophical question? What would you do today if you were dying tomorrow? Hold on, let me think about it."
Five minutes passed, then ten, but Demian's deliberation showed no sign of ending.
He's just going to sit there pondering until he drops dead. Catherine turned away without a second thought and left the mansion.
She was going to die tomorrow. Probably. Or, to give it a bit more leeway, within the next two days. About half-certain.
Even if I were Chezare, I'd want to take care of it.
Chezare Jang Uld Christopher. Add in all the surnames that followed, and you had more than ten. He was the lord of nearly ten territories, one of the world's top five richest men, and alongside Shagweed II, one of the continent's ruling archmages.
He was also the only brother of Iterana Empire's emperor, Shagweed II, making him not just a hero of his homeland but of the entire continent.
According to one column, Chezare was the only figure whose fame rivaled Shagweed II and the Pope.
That meant he commanded the love and attention of the masses.
But what if it came out that such a man was a demon?
"Take this! Pillar of fire!"
"Hey! Don't use my magic! Pillar of fire is the fire demon Moritat's spell!"
"Uh... then I'll be Moritat."
"No way! I'm Moritat!"
Three boys came charging at Catherine's legs like a herd.
"Kids! Can't you walk properly? What if you get hurt?"
A middle-aged woman hurried over, bowing her head to Catherine before chasing after the children.
Do those kids even know how cruel the demon Moritat is?
Of course not. In a world where even roadside weeds held mana, humans were the only ones born without it.
That was why humans needed contracts with mana-bearing other races—like demons—to use magic.
Demons and magical beasts were targets for extermination by the Papal Court.
Yet, 99 out of 100 imperial mages were contracted to demons. The Iterana imperial family, one of history's most powerful magical lineages, had commanded over ten demons like limbs for generations.
That was the foundation of Iterana's dominance over the continent.
But the empire's people only tolerated demons as long as they were "tools."
If it came out that some demons had infiltrated the ruling class and were pulling the strings of the nation, the empire could face catastrophe.
In other words, Chezare would eliminate Catherine just to avoid the hassle. It was ironclad proof.
For someone who came out so boldly, it's an anticlimactic end.
Strangely, she felt no emotion. No fear of death, no sense of injustice. It was so detached that even Catherine found it awkward.
Maybe it hasn't sunk in yet.
What should she do before dying? Her first choice was to leave the mansion.
As she strolled through the bustling square, she remembered the memo from Magi in her pocket.
It was the name of a hotel she'd passed a few times. Her steps naturally led her there.
"Hm."
Chezare had mentioned that Magi was the one who'd brought the intruder he'd dealt with... But if she was doomed to die anyway, she wanted to at least say goodbye to her half-sister.
As if mocking her wish, the hotel desk gave a disappointing answer.
"She checked out this morning."
"Do you know where she went?"
"I'm sorry. We can't share that information."
She'd said she'd stay a week, but vanished after just two days. Suspicious, no doubt.
Catherine had been numb to everything upon learning of her impending death.
But Magi's whereabouts being unknown? That piqued her curiosity. What had prompted Magi to secretly bring an intruder to her home?
Catherine couldn't bring herself to leave.
They weren't that close, but knowing there'd been some intent behind it—and not even getting a farewell—left her with regrets.
She lost track of how many times the hotel door turned.
Glancing idly at the lobby center, she spotted a familiar face approaching.
"Sis?"
The moment she recognized her, Catherine shot up and walked over.
"Magi, you okay? I thought you'd gone back."
"Gone back? The view was bad, so I just moved to a better hotel. I told them to contact me if a young woman came looking—lucky I was resting in the new room and hadn't gone out."
"I thought you'd run off to escape Chezare..."
Magi's expression turned odd. She glanced around cautiously, grabbed Catherine's hand, and led her out of the hotel.
They arrived at a hotel two blocks away. As Magi had said, it was more luxurious and pristine than the one on the memo.
Magi headed into a calm café inside the hotel. She took the corner-most seat and whispered immediately.
"Tell me straight. Why was Duke Christopher at your house?"
She knew, of course. With that face and name, denying it would be ridiculous.
Explaining how she'd met Chezare would drag the story out unnecessarily, so Catherine decided to mix in some lies. As disconnected from the mansion as possible.
"It's nothing. Just..."
But there was a problem.
"Just... a bit..."
No good excuse came to mind. We got close competing for the mansion bid. He's the former owner, so... Linking it to the mansion meant too much explaining; avoiding it left her mind blank.
"Why can't you say? ...Oh my god! Sis, don't tell me you two are...?"
Catherine was speechless. Denying it would just invite "Then what?"—and she had no answer.
"Crazy, crazy. You met Duke Christopher? Oh, I'm dizzy... Your life's totally blooming now, sis!"
"Lower your voice, Magi."
"How can I? This is the perfect excuse to ruin Anne's wedding!"
"That's why you're excited?"
Catherine regretted confirming it a second later. Why avoid tying it to the mansion? She was dying in days anyway—what did she care about shielding Chezare?
Right. A dying woman had no need to hold back.
Catherine promptly spilled her situation.
"You know my personality. Be honest. What did you come to me for?"
Magi's thoughtful look faded briefly. After ordering two coffees, she answered with a somewhat relieved face.
"My family's cut off all support."
The unexpected words made Catherine gasp and ask back.
"What about the academy?"
"Couldn't graduate. You know nobles don't get scholarships or anything. No family support means game over. Kicked out of the dorm overnight."
It made no sense. Magi had won top prize at the capital's magical studies conference two years running—her skills and reputation were solid.
Plenty of renowned scholars wanted her as a disciple; her future was paved.
Yet she'd abandoned her degree?
"It's Anne, that damn girl. Don't know what nonsense she fed Mom, but a few weeks ago, she suddenly said she'd found me a marriage match and to drop school and come home. Then she says... ha... she's selling me to some seventy-year-old for a gold mine."
The picture formed. Stepmother Laura, having tasted money through Anne, now tried to exploit Magi too. So typical of her.
Laura often scolded Magi at meals.
What's the point of studying? A girl's job is snagging a good man. Quit the nonsense and focus on your looks like Anne.
Magi would down cold water with a sickened face.
"When I got back to Orleans, I heard you'd left home. So I did too. Like you."
The same? No, not at all. Catherine had nothing to lose; Magi had been robbed of her future plans, dreams, and family.
"Knowing you, you probably only muttered a curse or two before leaving. So I doubled down and unleashed hell. Good, right?"
Not exactly a touching moment. Instead, Catherine scanned Magi's face closely.
Despite the grim story, her complexion was good, her clothes expensive-looking. No anxiety. She must have found a patron.
Someone who valued Magi enough to support her fully—and at odds with Chezare.
"The Papal Court?"
Magi looked briefly startled. Stroking her chin thoughtfully, she replied slowly.
"No, I work at the Imperial Palace now. Guess where, and you'll faint. But my hard work paid off—through my professor's connections... Haah."
The process sounded grueling; she trailed off with a long sigh.
You'd faint if you knew Chezare's true identity.
Catherine was curious about her exact role at the palace, but relief that she had a livelihood came first.
The Imperial Palace.
Then that man from yesterday was from the palace?
The gruesome sound of bones and flesh crunching still echoed in her ears.
What job at the palace? One that had her with men the duke called trash?
"I know why you came. But I... I never meant to use you, sis. The newspaper thing wasn't a total lie. I just had business at that mansion, and it happened to be yours."
Their drinks arrived. Magi picked up a sugar cube, dropped it into Catherine's coffee, and whispered softly.
"Soak that paper in water with lemon juice."
Then she casually sipped her coffee.
That paper... the one with the hotel address.
Was there something important on it? Good thing she hadn't thrown it away.
The sky had softened to pink by now. Just before leaving the hotel, Magi asked lightly.
"Does the duke treat you well?"
An awkward topic, but Catherine answered as nonchalantly as possible.
"No."
Far from it—he planned to kill her soon, so "yes" was out of the question.
"Knew it. A man like him wouldn't settle for one woman. Just enjoy it while it lasts and move on, sis."