#034
More astonishing than the fact that today marked the start of their luxury passenger ship voyage was Chezare's insistence on heading to the theater with only three hours to spare. He seemed to think both the cruise and a play were equally delightful. But did he have to spring the schedule on her the very same day?
"The theater was decided last night, so there was no helping it. We're not really watching the full play, so don't worry—just hurry up and let's go."
Chezare opened the carriage door and prodded Catherine along. Refusing felt awkward, so she climbed in for now.
No sooner had Chezare circled to the opposite door than Demian, clinging to the window, let out a wail.
"Miss, in your eyes, I might look like some dimwitted knight getting dumped by Lord Chezare, but I'm actually a pretty big name around here, y'know? And I've got plenty of enemies who hate my guts just as much... What I'm saying is, could you please reconsider..."
"That won't happen, so cut the long-winded excuses."
She sliced through his words like a blade and pulled some cash from her bag, handing it over.
"Pocket money. Buy any supplies we need ahead of time. Oh, and tell Roze she's got the week off."
Demian turned away with a gloomy expression, and soon the carriage lurched into motion. It had been ages since she'd ridden in such a high-end one, leaving her with a strange mix of feelings.
"Did you know? Out west in the empire, they've developed these mana cars—carriages that run on something other than horses."
"Ah, you mean the ones powered by mana stones? I heard they were risky, but looks like they pulled it off after all."
Mana stones were gems infused with mana—pricier than electricity but twice as efficient. Mages who'd hit their limits in personal development often made and sold them. Their steep price tag made them a status symbol for the upper crust, a clear divider between classes.
"This carriage is one of them."
What? Catherine craned her neck to peer ahead. Sure enough, no horses—just what looked like a servant up front operating some machinery. She'd been in such a rush boarding that she hadn't noticed.
"Today... I have no idea how many times you've surprised me."
"It's way faster and safer than a regular carriage. No chance we'll miss boarding time."
No chance we'll miss boarding time. Was that what Chezare had really wanted to say?
As he claimed, the carriage—no, mana car—was incredibly swift. Covering a good twenty-minute route in just ten was downright shocking.
"Insanely fast. Feels like riding a train."
With Chezare's help stepping down, she took his arm as escort and entered the theater. He draped her hand over his arm and said,
"That's one reason the Seifran Crown Prince loves me enough to want me dead."
"...The mana car?"
Of all places, the crown prince's name pops up here. He shrugged nonchalantly, as if it were nothing.
"I bought up the entire eastern mana car market. He's probably dying of envy... Though his antics do make him seem half-mad."
"Didn't you tell a similar story before? You two must really not get along."
"As I said then, it's one-sided. Whether humans like me or hate me doesn't matter much."
Listening closely to Chezare often felt like hearing tales from another world.
"You can tell me stuff like that?"
"Stuff? You mean that I don't care what emotions humans hold toward me?"
"No, about the Seifran Crown Prince."
"Don't you need to learn about me too? That way, you can make better use of my power, wealth, and influence."
Only Chezare could deliver such romantic lines with that handsome face, utterly straight-faced. Catherine figured his indifferent tone was just so him.
"Do you say stuff like that to pick up women?"
Matching her slower pace, Chezare paused a beat before replying.
"Do I seem like the type?"
"Wasn't meant that way... Just feels like anyone would fall for it."
He dipped his head slightly, flashing a picture-perfect smile.
"Meaning you've fallen for me now?"
Catherine's instincts screamed: Dodge this properly, or you're his plaything. But elegant string music drifting in sabotaged her brain.
"Welcome."
Staff lined up on either side bowed deeply to greet them. The empty daytime theater hall was filled with a string quartet. Immaculately dressed employees everywhere.
This level of welcome... must be for Chezare.
The Magnolia Theater was the largest in the area, its troupe one of the empire's best. No wonder rural girls from Orleans dreamed of seeing a show here. Catherine, utterly uninterested in plays, couldn't agree.
Literary knowledge was just a tool for chatting with noblewomen, after all.
The director at the carpet's end bowed tensely.
"What an honor to have Your Highness grace us personally—nothing could top it. If it's not too rude, might I ask who the lady beside you is?"
Chezare glanced her way—answer yourself, his eyes said.
"Catherine Panya. His Highness's..."
Contractor wouldn't fly. Calling her his lover like last time would spread beyond Christopher Duchy nationwide. After a split-second debate, she settled on,
"Student."
The director's eyes widened.
"Studying magic under His Highness?"
Catherine's formal education boiled down to magic and demonology, so she nodded vaguely.
"Yes."
"His Highness declared five years ago he'd take no more students... Astonishing news."
"Ah."
She shot Chezare an awkward glance upward. Wordlessly, he tugged her arm and led her inside.
At this rate, claiming she was his neighbor or his mom's friend's son would prompt cries of "Impossible! His Highness cut off all neighbors ten years ago!" or "No way! His mother had zero friends!"
"Did I answer wrong?"
"No issue."
"But you publicly swore off students five years ago?"
"By that logic, a human contract's been almost 800 years coming."
Escorting her to the center seats, he chuckled shortly.
"Actually, thinking about it—1,200 years. Better now?"
His teasing tone drew a hollow laugh from her.
"Too much better—that's the problem."
A millennium. An eternity Catherine couldn't even fathom.
"And you ignore my questions entirely."
"Questions? You don't mean that 'have you fallen for me' bit earlier? Not worth responding to."
"I hoped you'd at least humor it."
The theater lights dimmed, the stage curtain slowly rising. Chezare whispered in her ear,
"It'll be over in twenty minutes."
Not the full play, surely. Remarkably, Catherine's hunch was spot-on. The performance wrapped in under twenty minutes—right as the real conflict kicked off. Cut. Abruptly, utterly severed.
What the hell was that?
Pondering the half-baked play's point as she rose with Chezare, she asked,
"Does this troupe board the Lilith Ship?"
"You know your stuff."
"Must need your approval. I thought someone else owned it."
He took a pen from a staffer and jotted on a notepad. Up close, the memo was curt:
Approved
"I'm Magnolia's biggest investor. If they want my money and prestige, they show me the finished script first for review."
"On boarding day?"
"Not the first time. Roughly... ten rejections so far?"
Ten—big number or small?
"What'd you think?"
Catherine furrowed her brow at his question.
"Why ask? I don't know plays."
"Just—was it fun or not?"
"How do you judge a work in twenty minutes?"
"Get used to it. You'll be doing it for me from now on."
Her eyes flew wide. Was teasing her his full-time job today?
"Me? Why?"
She should be the one scowling, but Chezare looked genuinely hurt, so she held back.
"Why? Can't you do this much for us?"
"For us..."
"A bond deeper than blood or lovers, remember? I told you—soul communion beyond compare."
How could she argue that? Best to zip it for now.
I'm the one who sold my soul...
Why did it feel transposed?
Chezare took her silence as assent, shrugging off his pout and leading her out. While he conferred with the director, Catherine stood by the mana car, gazing at his lithe back.
Their contract had gained her wealth. What had Chezare gained?
As he approached, she asked softly,
"Bit sudden, but... what do you get from the contract?"
He wasn't power-hungry like other demons. His gaze lingered on her cheek, a faint hesitation there.
"...Amusement?"
Pure Chezare.
"Honestly, no clue. Back when I first opened my eyes, I craved awe and fear from humans. But over time, it all got tedious. No desire to torment thriving lives, either."
"Why no human contracts for 1,200 years?"
"Very human question. Well... to put it simply."
This pause stretched longer.
"No one worth contracting."
He grinned.
"Satisfy you? Ask more if not."
She shook her head. Any follow-up would get the same.
His face stayed breezily composed, but he was a master at masking emotions—maybe that's why.
Nosy or not, she hoped he felt no void or loneliness. Even if just a few questions exchanged.
They boarded the mana car again, heading back to the mansion.