Antagonized Bachelorette Enjoying a Simple Life - Chapter 55
"Even if dirt gets in my eyes when I die, I can't just stand by and watch this shoddy little vegetable patch. This big sis is gonna put that sturdy body of yours—which is good for nothing else—to some actual use."
Demian watched her humming back as she walked away, his face crumpling into a pitiful pout as he turned to Catherine for help.
"Don't look at me like that. I'm not taking you with us, gardener. Give it up."
Tsk tsk. A gardener who's good for jack squat. All self-inflicted, huh. Yaong clicked her tongue and plopped down by the window with the best view of Demian slaving away, grooming herself with gusto.
That night, after reuniting with Roze—who had just returned from her vacation—Catherine decided it was time to get moving.
Now that I know I can get into the Orleans mansion with this key... I can just grab the stuff I left behind in my rush to leave.
After giving Demian a good scolding, Catherine fetched Fontpado Madam, who had been enjoying a peaceful foot soak. Just like on the Lilith Ship, the madam turned into black smoke and settled onto Catherine's hair pin.
"Truth be told, I'm not so sure."
About what?
"If my room is still there the way I left it."
She'd half-expected as much. Maybe she'd open the door to an empty shell of a room. Or perhaps someone else had taken it over.
No way that's the case. It's the house where you grew up, miss.
That's exactly why she'd left it behind—and good riddance.
Creeeak.
She turned the key and pushed the door open. As she stepped inside, warm yellow sunlight spilled over her instep. Slowly, she lifted her head to survey the room.
Surprisingly, everything was exactly as she'd left it.
What a cute little room.
Faded green carpet and sheer yellow curtains. The bedding on the bed was still the autumn set from when she'd stormed out in early fall.
For a fleeting moment, Catherine felt like she'd returned home after a long journey. Nostalgic and bittersweet, yet somehow filling the hollow ache in her chest with an odd warmth.
So the miss really is from nobility, huh? I knew it from your refined demeanor and features.
No matter how much they'd treated Catherine like a worthless sack of straw, she was still the Orleans family's eldest daughter—and a legitimate one at that. So naturally, the mansion's second-largest room had been hers. Even if the interior was a bit worn.
Sniff sniff. Smells just like Catherine.
Yaong poked her head out of the bag and leaped onto the bed.
This bed's still good.
Catherine ignored the rolling-around Yaong and checked behind the decorations.
But miss, shouldn't you say hi to your family? It's been ages since you visited, right?
"I'm good. I decided to live like a commoner from now on."
Oh dear... Sorry, I spoke too casually! My apologies.
The straightforward apology put Catherine at ease too. She pulled a box from the back of the dresser and opened it. Inside lay a slightly aged leather notebook neatly stacked with some photos.
Oh my god!
At that moment, black smoke burst from the bag, rapidly taking form in front of Catherine. Fontpado Madam leaned in close to the box, her eyes brimming with uncontainable excitement.
"This lady in the photo—is she who I think she is?"
Catherine answered calmly. She had a vague inkling why the madam was making such a fuss.
"Probably."
"Oh my goodness... Miss, if it's alright, may I take it out?"
"Of course."
Fontpado Madam's face lit up like the sun. She handled the photo as delicately as a priceless treasure, examining the figures inside: Catherine's birth mother and little Catherine standing beside her.
"I had no idea... But looking at it now, you two look so alike. What a miracle."
"We do?"
After scrutinizing the photo, Fontpado Madam beamed at Catherine.
"Of course! Mother and daughter, right? Anyone could see these two are family."
A faint shadow of longing crossed her face.
"I was shocked. To think you were that lady's daughter... and I never noticed, even with you right under my nose."
"You knew my mother?"
Of course she did. Catherine's birth mother had been quite famous in the Iterana Empire as a mage. But Fontpado Madam seemed to have shared a personal bond beyond mere fame. Affection shone in her eyes.
"She once sought refuge with the Panya family. Your mother must've been... fifteen then? By that point, Green was already renowned across the Iterana Empire and the continent as a genius in magic studies. While staying at Panya, I exchanged scholarly insights with her."
Catherine blinked in stunned silence. She'd assumed they'd met once or twice at most, not that they'd spent time together.
Fontpado Madam covered her mouth, chuckling as she gazed at Catherine's face. Her eyes held a warm, late-spring afternoon tenderness unlike before.
"You know what? Your name—Catherine—was something I came up with together with Green! Right before she left Panya, there was talk about her marriage. That last evening, over drinks, we brainstormed names for the child she'd have someday... And Catherine was one of the three we settled on. Ahh, now I remember."
"So you're my..."
Fontpado Madam's cheeks flushed as she cut her off.
"Wait! H-Hold on, miss. Spare your words—I'm trembling too much right now."
Why? Before Catherine could ask, the madam continued, squeezing her eyes shut as if to steady her shaking.
"Yes, that's right! In a way, I'm practically your godmother!"
It came out like a passionate confession of a long-buried secret.
"Green never officially entrusted you to me, of course! But I helped name you, so that makes me your godmother, doesn't it?"
She glanced at Catherine slyly after blurting it out.
"If you don't like it... well, if it's too much, you can just laugh it off. I mean... three years isn't that long, right?"
"I don't mind at all."
"Huh?"
Fontpado Madam's eyes went wide.
Is becoming my godmother such a delicate matter that she'd hesitate like this?
Her mother, Lady Green, had been a prodigious mage who'd made a name for herself young—but Catherine was not. She'd been rejected time and again for lacking the aptitude.
"I don't mind. If anything, I'm not worthy to be Fontpado Madam's goddaughter."
Gazing intently at Catherine's face, the madam said,
"Is it because of the magic? Don't take it to heart. Magic is the most hereditary of disciplines. I guarantee you—with a proper teacher, you could become a mage as great as your mother."
Her expression softened with sympathy as she pulled Catherine into a hug.
That reaction struck Catherine deeply.
I guess my inferiority complex about magic is bigger than I thought.
She'd believed her desire to learn magic stemmed from pure curiosity. But maybe it was more about craving validation.
"You're learning from the Grand Duke, right? You'll awaken your talent in no time. Geniuses always need teachers who match their caliber, after all."
Chezare had boasted he'd turn her into the continent's top mage.
Catherine nodded, and the madam released her with an even brighter smile.
"I never imagined Green would marry into Orleans, though. I naturally assumed..."
Fontpado Madam trailed off, glancing at Catherine.
Catherine could guess what she meant.
"That she'd marry into somewhere better?"
"Yes. I don't know how you see it, miss, but your maternal family is so prominent. You know, among the many houses vying for Green was even the Iterana imperial family. She could've chosen anyone."
Yet her mother had picked Orleans amid all those powerhouses. A backwater noble house with no history, wealth, honor, or territory to speak of.
Why?
"Maybe Green just wanted a break. She was always strong-willed. Probably didn't want to be swept up in things."
Doubtful. The mother Catherine knew wouldn't choose Orleans for such a flimsy reason. She must've realized early on that the Orleans "vessel" was far too small to contain her.
It had even caused rifts in the family.
Water under the bridge now.
As Catherine rummaged through the drawers, Fontpado Madam spoke softly from behind.
"I'll find a contractor soon, miss. Once my status is secure, I can be a godmother you're proud of. Don't let appearances fool you—I've got quite the assets."
Catherine had heard tales of the madam's prowess even in salon gossip.
"Ah! O-Of course, only if you permit me to be your godmother."
"I'm the one who's grateful."
The madam covered her mouth, laughing. Her face was so radiantly happy that Catherine couldn't help averting her eyes.
No one had ever been this delighted by the mere existence of "Catherine Orleans."
"Let's grab what we need and go. Starting tomorrow, I'll head to the imperial magical academy to scout contractors!"
The madam urged her on in an excited lilt.
Having gathered all the items she'd left behind, Catherine returned to the mansion. As expected, Christopher felt far more comfortable than Orleans ever had.
The next day, she headed to the Christopher Ducal Residence with butterflies in her stomach. She'd been too excited about today's magic lesson to sleep since dawn.
Yesterday's realization—that her obsession with magic was more about validation than interest—now seemed laughable.
Creeeak.
It was just a tad early for their appointment. Chezare's study, bathed in morning sunlight, looked like a serene oil painting—elegant and still.
Noticing her entrance, Chezare removed his glasses and rose.
"Did you stay up all night?"
"How'd you know?"
"Anyone could tell from your face right now."
Th-That obvious? Her cheeks heated up.
Soon, the butler Gren entered. Catherine thought he might be preparing tea, but he merely bowed to her and stood rigidly by the chair.
Chezare, seated on the opposite sofa, said,
"Gren is a mage with the Transfer root, just like you. I called him to aid your understanding."
Didn't that mean he was a demon, not human?
Wait... turns out demons are everywhere around me? Roze too? Demian?
It was a perfectly plausible suspicion. She'd interrogate them when she got home.
As Catherine plotted her "human verification" plan, she half-stood to thank Gren.
"Th-Thank you."
"Not at all. It's only what I should do."
So was Gren one of Chezare's demons too? Must be nice being an archdemon. No worries about betrayal when your demons are loyal retainers.
A maid soon brought tea. Chezare stirred his steaming coffee with a teaspoon and began the explanation.