#029
"Don't speak my name lightly, but if death is staring you down, invoke it without fail. If someone's after your soul, that's when you call my true name. Once they know I'm your master, no one will dare lay a hand on you—human or demon alike."
Not some imperial envoy whose name alone makes demons retreat a step—this meant Leviathan.
Leviathan... Yeah, that name rings a bell. Turns out he's even more formidable than I thought.
The greater the demon, the more power their true name holds. Catherine nodded deeply to show she understood.
"Is that everything?"
"Anything else you want to know?"
"Nope. I don't need anything else, so hand over the money now. Cash, if possible."
Chezare's puzzled expression cracked into utter bewilderment. His lips parted for a retort, only to close with a sigh—and now he looked like he'd given up entirely.
Catherine pressed her advantage, wielding the shamelessness he'd once praised as her specialty.
"The mansion needs way too many things. Like you said, I need to hire a new gardener too..."
"Ah, I get it. But here's the thing—can't do it right this second."
"Come on, who says? You can't just say no. What about my wish then?"
Yaong meowed insistently, shoving Catherine toward Chezare.
"Who said I won't give it? I just don't have it on me right now, so quit whining. It'll all be sorted at the ducal residence. Marcus Circle."
The pattern on the floor responded obediently, so it must have its own true name: Marcus Circle.
Whatever was happening, Catherine was the only human in this sealed basement. She felt nothing unusual—she was clearly used to it by now.
Come to think of it, Yaong called that pattern a demon summoning circle.
Demon summoning circles were a powder keg in continental politics. Catherine hoped whatever Marcus Circle was, it had nothing to do with that.
"This morning, cardinals entered Christopher territory under the pretext of an escort mission. Probably the same bunch that hunted that Yaong of yours. If trouble brews nearby, call me without hesitation."
"Try calling more desperately next time."
For a master-servant bond, the trust level was abysmal. The lord-vassal relationships Catherine read about in books were nothing like this.
The pattern's red glow dimmed faintly at Chezare's dismissive toss-off, piqued if Catherine wasn't imagining it.
She'd learned the hard way in high society not to meddle in family affairs unless she wanted trouble. Glancing down at her comfy loungewear, Catherine said,
"Chezare, if we're heading to the ducal residence, give me a sec to change. I can't go out like this..."
Chezare approached with his long legs, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.
"No need to worry. Gren will be thrilled even if you show up in a burlap sack. Remor."
With those final words, blinding white light swallowed Catherine's vision. A fresh breeze carried a faint salty tang—unfamiliar, but not overwhelming.
Once the harsh light faded from behind her eyelids, she slowly opened her eyes—and gasped.
Beyond the wide-open terrace stretched an endless blue sea and sprawling shipyards.
This wasn't the mansion she'd visited before.
So this is the real ducal residence. That other place must've been a villa.
"First time seeing the sea? You look like a kid."
She snapped around at his voice, cheeks heating at "kid."
"No, not first—maybe ten years ago."
"That's basically first. The ducal residence is much closer to the sea than that last place. You'll get sick of the salt air eventually."
Chezare stepped beside her, gazing at the vibrant cityscape, sea, and shipyards—like a painting come to life.
Not the sea, but Chezare against the antique grandeur of the room.
"Amazing. It looks huge from here—how big is it really? I'd love to see it sometime."
"...You too?"
Catherine eyed the yellow kitten hopping onto her shoulder.
No issue if it stayed this cute kitten instead of some horse-headed monster.
"I put off urgent business to come here, so it'll take a bit. I'll assign a servant—be good and wait."
"In this getup?"
"You're awfully hung up on it. Want me to have someone fetch clothes you'd like?"
"No need for that. I'll just tour the gardens instead."
"Alone? This castle's way bigger than you think."
Chezare scanned her dubiously, his expression needling her.
"I'll say I'm Chezare's guest. I'm better at persuading people than I look."
"Hmph. That doesn't inspire confidence. From what I've seen of you... Never mind. As long as it's within my sight, do what you want. Enjoy."
Truly swamped, he escorted her to the entrance hall and vanished.
"Don't say that, Yaong. If you rampage in your true form, I'll be in trouble. Stay like this as much as possible."
"If monster humor works on me, that'd be funnier."
Soon, Yaong scampered back with a scrap of paper in its mouth, just as Catherine reached the stairs.
Was "food" code for humans? Catherine took the paper.
"A Luxurious Party Aboard?"
A Luxurious Party Aboard
It was a pamphlet from the mansion corridor bulletin board. Christopher had shipyards to the northeast and a massive port to the southeast. That glamorous luxury liner at the edge of the shipyard view must be the one advertised.
The pinnacle of indulgence for top nobles and tycoons. Fittingly, the paper was premium quality.
Catherine shook her head, handing it back to Yaong.
"We can't go. Too expensive, no reason to."
Unrealistic, but not wrong. Still, Catherine had a critical mission: fill her empty mansion using Chezare's wealth. No time for a liner departing tomorrow.
"Go with Chezare if you want. It's from Christopher shipyards—he'll probably board."
"...Furniture showroom?"
Famous luxury liners stocked only the era's finest furniture brands. Christopher's would feature jaw-droppingly expensive ones.
A showroom full of top-tier furniture! Catherine's heart pounded like she'd fallen in love.
Even if the sky falls, I have to go! And buy it all! With Chezare's money!
She snatched the pamphlet back.
"...Jenan Parhenrine?"
Her excitement crashed at the onboard party host's name.
Damn. Of all people, Percival's brother as shipowner.
No need to look further. Catherine crumpled the pamphlet and tossed it up the stairs. Her mood soured instantly. Just seeing that name tainted the rest of her day.
"Haa... Uh, no."
A Parhenrine royal luxury liner meant peak opulence—and guaranteed high-end furniture.
What's the point? I'd never go, even if I died.
If only Chezare bought a giant liner and hosted a furniture expo. Catherine scooped up Yaong and left the building, dejected.
They'd just entered the gardens. In the direction Yaong pointed, two maids huddled amid blooming cosmos flowers.
"M-Mille, you okay?"
"Ugh! A little rain and these weeds shoot up like downpours!"
"Can't be helped. The gardener got sick two days ago..."
"Hey! No way—we need the footmen. Can't do this alone. My hands hurt too much."
Gloved and panting amid the weeds, they looked busy tending like Demian and Catherine had. Watching, Catherine felt intense frustration.
She could've cleared that patch in under two hours solo! Two grown women helpless? The left one even held her sickle wrong—perfect for stabbing someone.
"Step aside."
Unable to stand it, Catherine pushed past the maids and faced the weed thicket that had exploded during the rainy days.
"That way'll take half a day. Watch me—pay attention."