#027
Though she didn't show it, Catherine had felt a quiet sense of relief deep down. She quite liked this current peace. It had cost her soul—a steep price indeed—but for now, at least, that sacrifice was buying her this tranquility. Worries about turning into an earthworm or a pine tree felt distant, irrelevant in the moment.
The night after the contract was sealed, everything was ready. Catherine settled by the bonfire and sprinkled water over the dish holding the slip of paper. Something began to appear.
But the faintly emerging words felt oddly unsettling.
"Imperial throne succession... Hmm. The Duke?"
Catherine picked up the wet memo with a dubious frown. Maybe she should just ignore it.
"Who gave you this?"
At that moment, a large hand shot out and snatched the paper from her.
"Imperial throne dispute. Duke Chezare is in danger."
The man's voice reading the hidden text sounded lower and calmer than usual. Now he just shows up whenever he feels like it.
"Magi."
"Ah, that prickly-looking little sister of yours?"
"Yes."
No need to hide it, so she answered honestly. Their bond ran deeper than blood; surely he wouldn't harm Magi over this.
"...Do you know what this means?"
Chezare's expression looked remarkably serene. Catherine kept her eyes on him as he sat on the opposite sofa and replied.
"Who knows. Not that curious, really. The Duke's business has nothing to do with us anyway, right?"
As she teased, Chezare let the memo slip from his fingers. The soaked paper was already as transparent as it could get.
"Miss Panya, there's something I must confess to you."
"A proposal, perhaps?"
"Well, if that's what you want, I could."
Chezare never backed down from this sort of banter. He withdrew his faint smile and spoke gravely.
"In truth, I am Duke Chezare of Christopher."
"Pardon?"
"I am the Duke of Christopher."
A brief confusion washed over her. Was this demon pulling some pointless prank? Or did he really think she didn't know?
In the silence, only the crackling of burning logs echoed.
Catherine feigned surprise for now.
"What a shocking revelation. How did you fool me so completely?"
She placed a hand over her left breast in polished theatrics. Her heart beat with the steady calm of someone just woken from sleep.
Chezare looked deflated.
"That's not the reaction I was going for. You seem to have known for quite some time anyway, Miss Panya."
"Then why the super-serious face? I thought you actually took me for a fool."
"If you're a fool, then Sir Demian is a full-blown idiot."
Chezare picked up his glass and drank. It happened so fast she had no time to stop him. That was water laced with lemon juice.
"...You okay?"
He tilted his head, face asking if something was wrong.
"...Fine if you are."
"Bland as ever. What I meant to say was: your sister Magi's superior and I don't get along, so be careful. Now that he knows we're acquainted, he'll find ways to make trouble."
"Do I need to worry about her boss too? Who is this big shot anyway?"
"Seifran Crown Prince."
An unexpected name. She'd thought Magi had found decent work, but royalty? Nice job landing that gig, Magi.
"Why the bad blood? Rivals in love or something?"
"Something like that. The Crown Prince loves me—quite fervently."
"Ah."
Hard to tell if he was serious or mocking, but one thing was clear: Chezare couldn't care less what the prince did. Was it one-sided hostility from the prince's side?
"Anyway. When were you planning to tell me your imperial bank account?"
Oh right. That issue lingered.
"Just give it in cash."
"If that's your wish, I'll hand it over right now."
"Doesn't make sense. What's the thorn in your side about cash? Why fuss over not knowing my account?"
"That's what I'd like to know. Why go to such lengths to hide your account?"
Put that way, Catherine had nothing to say. No grand reason—just didn't want to share a name tied to Orleans.
"As you said, Miss Panya, we're in this for life, aren't we? Whatever your circumstances, human dramas don't impress me much. Whether you're a century-old crone or a notorious serial killer, it doesn't matter. Though the latter might surprise me a bit."
Chezare's cobalt-blue eyes shone clear and bright, like any ordinary person's. But to Catherine, they appeared violet. An indirect reminder that this man was a demon to his bones.
It didn't scare her... if anything, it brought calm. Anyone would feel this way hearing they didn't matter who they were. If his words and actions were all calculated, though, it might sting a little.
"Fine. I'll tell you tomorrow."
"Just don't drag it out day by day until it's a century from now. Have you decided on your wish?"
She shrugged without answering. She had a vague idea, but wasn't fully committed.
As Chezare slowly rose, Catherine found herself blurting out a question that had been floating in her mind.
"Why call Magi by her name but me by my family name?"
Chezare froze mid-straighten.
"No particular reason. Calling you Miss Panya avoids confusion, actually."
"Then call me by name and her by family name. We're supposed to be together for life, per you. Planning to keep things formal forever? Deeper than blood, you said— is this the best you've got?"
Now she was even more curious. He called even Roze "Miss Roze," yet stuck to her surname alone. Why?
Chezare looked genuinely flustered—a rare sight.
"Very well. Not a hard request."
"Say it now."
"No need to—"
"Quickly!"
He sighed softly, straightening fully.
"Understood, Miss Catherine. Satisfied?"
"Keep it up from now on, Chezare. That's how it'll feel deeper than blood."
"I misspoke."
Chezare shook his head.
Soon, Catherine was alone in the parlor. Everything felt astonishingly normal. The only change after handing her soul to a demon? Chezare calling her by name.
'But he doesn't feel like a demon...'
"The longer the span of time a demon has lived, the more human-like its traits become."
Powerful demons lived near-immortal lives, periodically erasing memories to shield themselves from eternity—retaining only vital information, incinerating emotions and tempests without trace. The reborn ones empathized with human feelings, blending in naturally.
'Just like Chezare.'
How long had he lived?
'In a few centuries, our time together will fade to mere facts: contractor and contractee.'
It felt regrettable—deeply so.
The next morning, early. Her chest felt oddly heavy—turns out Yaong was perched there, grooming.
「Catherine, morning. Sleeping in is for beauties only.」
"Where were you yesterday?"
「Outside! Wandered the streets like a stray. Sooo lonely!」
As she sat up, Yaong leaped onto her shoulder.
「New territory markers popped up at the mansion. Ignored 'em and came in anyway—super suspicious now!」
"Territory markers?"
「Catherine, so disappointed... How could you hook up with a demon without telling me!」
Yaong bared harmless fangs and wagged its tail. Context suggested "hookup" meant the contract. Maybe the aftermath left an invisible aura around the mansion.
"Sorry. That why you couldn't enter before?"
「Sniff. Yeah.」
"My demon won't care if you come in."
My demon—sounded embarrassing even to her.
「If so, no markers to begin with... Eh, whatever! I trust Catherine—gonna barge right in!」
Come to think of it, Yaong sensed Chezare but never met him directly. Odd, given how it roamed freely. Avoiding on purpose?
'But leaving territory markers— isn't that risky?'
The basement circle alone could halt a passing holy knight. Add markers...
'No way Chezare did something to complicate his own life.'
She combed her tousled hair, left the bedroom, and descended the stairs. Heading slowly to the kitchen, she noticed the basement door wide open—unlike usual.
"Huh."
Startled, thinking thieves—but then she recalled leaving it ajar last night. Relief.
「Huh? Huh?」
Yaong hopped from her shoulder and dashed into the open door.
"Wait—stop!"
No stopping; even its tail vanished into the dark. Weird circle plus weird cat? Who knew what disaster.
Catherine hurried after.
"The one who possesses me shall rule the world..."
"Yaong!"
Luckily, no need to chase wildly. Yaong circled her excitedly.
「Catherine! You hid something fun in the mansion without me!」
"Not fun at all."
"Night's sovereign who bows not easily even to gargoyle demons. Why is he here? Human, where'd you leave the limbs the gargoyle ate?"
Gargoyle meant Yaong, right? Catherine patted her limbs at the vague question.
"Not eaten. All intact."
「Impossible? Gargoyles have the greediest appetites among monsters. No way it'd leave fresh prey like you untouched...」
Then the cat pounced, rolling over the pattern where Catherine knelt.
「Wooow, check this! Demon summoning circle talking and everything! Puhaha! Hilarious!」