#051
"Staying at a hotel? What about the mansion?"
"Sold it. I barely spend a single night there a year anyway—what good is keeping it?"
She always thought this, but Chezare was remarkably cool... no, cool devil. Was it because he was a devil that he could be so nonchalant?
Fallen lords often sold off castles or mansions just to make ends meet. But a noble disposing of their estate because it was a hassle to manage? He had to be one of a kind.
Even though she looked like a foreigner, no one gave Catherine a second glance. Perhaps because Beaton Blue was a famous resort destination across the continent, everyone seemed accustomed to outsiders.
The two settled into the innermost seats of the cafeteria. It was the staff's consideration for Chezare's status.
The moment they sat, he spoke up.
"So, what did you want to say?"
His bright cobalt-blue eyes fixed steadily on her. It was a face that wouldn't wrinkle or snap no matter what she said.
His impression was sharp enough to sting her fingertips with cold, but Catherine knew his heart was anything but. Ah.
What random thought was this? Catherine swallowed briefly and gathered her wits.
What had she called him out here to ask, again? Nephilim? No... She'd planned to tell him she'd been inside the Abyss, too.
Leaning lightly against his chair, he waited for her response, tapping his leg idly before speaking slowly.
"Let's order something first, shall we?"
It was a perfectly reasonable suggestion. To clear the odd lump in her throat, Catherine ordered a lukewarm peppermint tea.
Soon, their coffee and herbal tea arrived. The price was about eight times that of a neighborhood cafe, but the taste was hardly different.
After a few sips to wet her throat, Catherine posed the question she'd been holding back.
"Why?"
It wasn't something she had to get an answer to, of course. She was asking about the way Chezare had been staring holes into her since earlier.
"Hmm."
He hadn't so much as touched his coffee with a fingertip. Was something wrong with it? Scanning his face carefully, she saw him nod lightly toward her cup.
"It doesn't taste good, does it? Not to your liking?"
Her shoulders, tense from the unexpectedly simple matter, relaxed with a thud.
"How did you know?"
"It's written on your face."
She'd heard "I can't read your intentions" so often it was like breathing. Chezare was the first to say her feelings were plain as day.
Does it taste bad? Following his words, she tried the tea again. She hadn't noticed before, but now she could clearly taste the difference.
It wasn't good.
"Yeah. The tea at your mansion suits my taste better."
"Shall we go drink some, then?"
What?
"Right now?"
Chezare stood, extending a hand to her. Catherine hesitated between her half-finished tea and his hand, then took it.
Unlike the teacup she'd been holding, his palm was warm.
As she followed him, she thought of the untouched coffee cup, still pristine on the table. He doesn't even spare a glance at things he doesn't like.
"Should I use my key?"
"No need."
He pushed open the cafeteria door without hesitation. Gone was the brightly lit hotel lobby with its chandeliers; instead, a dim, shadowed interior settled around them.
Stepping inside, Catherine froze and looked around.
Familiar ceiling, familiar floor, familiar air.
This was none other than her home.
"While we're here, mind if I check the basement quickly?"
"...Go ahead."
The door clicked shut, and beside the hazy light streaming through the window, Chezare's shadow vanished down to the basement.
Drop, plip.
It sounded like rain in Christopher. The downpour was neither harsh nor gentle.
She had no idea how he planned to serve tea from that mansion in this weather, but Catherine didn't dwell on it.
For some reason, it felt like returning home after a long journey, and a deep-seated fatigue was washing over her.
She didn't know how many minutes passed as she leaned against the second-floor window. Pressing her forehead to the glass, she belatedly noticed the teacup held out before her.
She turned her head. Unlike before, his tie was loosely undone, and he was sipping coffee.
Catherine took the cup he offered.
"That day."
Chezare's gaze followed hers out the window. Looking down at the soggy, unkempt garden, Catherine said,
"You collapsed right there."
It had been quite some time ago already. But the memory was still vivid for her.
"Why did you collapse?"
A couple of steps away, leaning against the window as well, Chezare met her eyes and replied.
"Feels like you asked me something similar before."
"You dodged it then."
If she wasn't mistaken, Chezare seemed reluctant to speak about why she'd asked. More precisely, not unwilling to say it, but carefully choosing his words.
"At that time, I..."
His long lashes lowered.
"...was supposed to die. But you so conveniently woke me up."
It was an utterly unexpected answer.
Die?
She'd anticipated something like a fatal wound or, at worst, a silly joke about tripping and dozing off.
But planned to die?
For a while, she had to press her lips tight.
She didn't like how nonchalant he seemed after dropping that bomb.
"Good call on my part, then."
After a long silence, Catherine finally spoke.
"If I hadn't saved you back then, I might still be cleaning that mansion."
"Doesn't sound like a joke."
"Because it's not."
Was it, though? Even after saying it, she wasn't sure.
Chezare glanced at her with an amused chuckle, as if she'd said something ridiculous. It was a pretty satisfying reaction.
She didn't know why she cared about his response, though.
"So, you'll suddenly collapse like that again sometime? Because you have to die?"
"No. As long as Catherine's soul endures, I doubt it."
It sounded like it could happen anytime her soul vanished. She couldn't tell if that was reassuring or not.
"I still remember it clearly. How many demons were coveting your collapsed body back then."
"...Demons?"
Chezare looked puzzled. This silence stretched long.
Mulling it over for a moment, he muttered in a strangely distorted gaze,
"I see. So Magic Nullification lets you see them. Those aren't demons. Well, they are, but... remnants of lingering desire is more accurate."
It was hard to grasp the meaning. He didn't seem inclined to explain further to her.
"And you fended them off alone?"
"Like you said, I have Magic Nullification."
Chezare didn't look satisfied with her answer. But Catherine truly believed that was the reason.
It was the only explanation for the strange phenomena she'd experienced since childhood that kept her safe.
"I just scared them off a bit. I'd seen things like that since I was little..."
"Someday, I should hear your childhood stories in full. Until then, let's chalk it up to your boldness."
"Why my childhood?"
He replied with a look that said it was obvious.
"Just curious?"
Unlike at the hotel, where he hadn't touched his cup, he was steadily emptying the coffee now.
Fair enough—she was curious about his past self, too. Especially recalling how he'd acted like a different being in the Abyss.
"...I have some questions for you, too."
"Ask away."
His tone was a touch less reserved, so Catherine didn't hold back.
"When can I start learning magic?"
It hadn't come up easily at the hotel, but back home, it felt simple.
Maybe because his face was half-shadowed. Even blurred, or perhaps because it was, his presence felt sharper.
"Speaking of, you called Remor yesterday, didn't you?"
"Oh, right. With Yaong and Demian gone, and me on the run..."
"On the run?"
His face said he'd misheard. His deeply shadowed blue eyes flickered with a mix of doubt, disbelief, and faint anger.
"Yeah. They were going to use me as a sacrifice to summon a demon."
"You were in that situation alone and didn't call my name?"
His tone was pure incomprehension, making Catherine wonder if she'd messed up badly. But she had her reasons.
"You can't just call anytime."
His disapproval was consistent.
"A moment of crisis for you isn't 'anytime.'"
What? It sounded so obvious, yet she felt embarrassed.
Catherine rolled her eyes to the window and took a sip of tea.
"...Anyway, that's why I called Remor."
"If it had failed, you wouldn't be here now."
"The priest said all the kidnapped people were safe."
Even the woman who'd lost her child and wept had managed a smile.
Chezare gave no reply. Neither affirmation nor denial.
From experience, that meant one thing.
"Guess not, then."
He merely raised one eyebrow, offering no response.
A tightness clogged her chest.
If I hadn't left the cabin then...
Magi's face would have faded from memory, too, lost without a trace.
She'd thought their ties severed since leaving Orleans, but seeing her once had shaken her resolve. Magi, unlike Anne, had always looked up to her.
But why did the humans not used as sacrifices have to die? They'd offered ten thousand sea creatures, hadn't they?
Ten thousand— was that even feasible? Catherine couldn't believe it.
"Does summoning a Great Demon really require sacrificing ten thousand lives?"