#062
"Conditions? That's a bit... cheap."
"You know Busperfield?"
"Busperfield? That armed nephilim group? ...Lady, are you a terrorist? To be honest, not all that surprised."
Demian had a bad habit of not stopping at one verse but dragging it out to two or three. Catherine cut off his nonsense with a single stroke.
"Anyway, while I'm in Panya, I'll be going back and forth there a few times. You're my gardener, right, Demian? I want you to come along just in case, to watch out for any dangers. Like besties. Stick close."
Busperfield was a group formed by nephilim like Catherine. So there had to be plenty of people there wrestling with the same issues she was.
'Plenty I can use.'
Catherine planned to shuttle between Panya and Busperfield, digging up every truth she could about her mother's identity, motives, and anything else possible.
But Demian reacted with utter disbelief.
"Hah. Do you even know what kind of place that is before suggesting this? Put nicely, it's a group for nephilim rights, but put bluntly, it's a damn cult. No way. I can't let you go there."
He was earnestly trying to dissuade her, which was rare for him. She appreciated the sentiment, but even if Demian stripped down to his underwear and danced in the town square, Catherine was still going to Busperfield.
"Besides, those guys would burn down a whole village for their beliefs. And no one even knows where it is—not even the Imperial Knights can infiltrate... "
"Here, entry ticket."
Catherine unfolded the small piece of paper she'd kept alongside her birth mother's letter and showed it to him.
From Giovanni Busperfield.
Instructions:Hold this ticket high in an open sky and wave it toward the heavens! Busperfield will come rushing to you!
"And there's the location at the bottom, FYI."
Demian squinted at the ticket with a baffled look.
"...This is a scam."
"Not a scam. Some crazy guy gave it to me as a gift, and Fontpado Madam called him Giovanni."
Demian's face turned deadly serious as he listened to Catherine's story.
"Lady, don't take this the wrong way, but... have you ever had your fortune told? Like, you're fated to attract psychos or something."
"That include you in the psychos?"
Haha! With a dry laugh, Demian abruptly changed the subject.
"You tell Chezare yet?"
"Of course."
Of course, she planned to tell him now.
"He won't come along, right? He's so busy he'd need two bodies, so it'll be tough for him, obviously... but hey! No worries, Lady. I've got your back. What's the worst that could happen? We won't die!"
Demian downed a glass of milk like a man and left the kitchen. Roze, who was baking another tray of scones, watched his retreating back and said to Catherine,
"Be careful, Lady. Giovanni Busperfield is the guy ranked #2 most dangerous man on the continent. Giving you that ticket? Definitely has some shady ulterior motive. No such thing as a free favor in this world."
"You're right, Roze. I'll be careful."
Catherine stood to head to the Christopher Ducal Residence. Just before leaving the kitchen, she tossed a casual question at Roze.
"By the way, who's #1 most dangerous on the continent?"
Roze gave her a look like you don't even know? and replied,
"His Highness Chezare, obviously! Dangerously handsome! Coolest guy of the era! God-given grand archmage! Perfect man with bloodline, talent, and looks all in spades! And single to boot... "
Catherine bolted before nicknames like "Duke of Roses" or "Duke of Violets" could come out.
It was about an hour later when Catherine made it to the ducal residence.
The delay was because it took thirty minutes just to corral the rampaging Yaong.
"Ngh. Such a shame. Hunting trembling humans and licking them clean is a delicacy among delicacies."
Yaong, curled up round in her bag, smacked its lips regretfully.
"I respect your tastes, but if you pull that gruesome crap in front of my house, we'll have to move far away."
"Ngh."
Originally, she'd planned to visit Chezare's study and get permission for the Busperfield trip. But unexpectedly, his study was empty. Even after an hour, no sign of him, so after some deliberation, Catherine stepped out.
"Catherine, do you really need Chezare's permission? You're an adult. In our world, adults do whatever they want once they're grown!"
"Hmm."
"And Chezare's the devil who'd grant any request of yours. It's almost embarrassing."
Yaong was right. But Catherine wanted Chezare's permission all the same.
"Even family tells each other where they're going for a quick outing, right? Chezare and I are closer than that. So we should share everything."
For some reason, it sounded like a contrived excuse even to her. Truth be told, Catherine just wanted to talk to Chezare. It had been a while since they'd seen each other.
"I think you've been brainwashed, Catherine. Calling a demon-human contract deeper than blood ties? Chezare's the first to say something like that."
"Guess that was standard phrasing back in his birth era."
"Ugh, old fogey!"
The ducal residence was twice as vast as the Orleans mansion she'd grown up in. No signs of life anywhere in the sprawling estate. She searched the entire fifth floor but found no one.
"Heard there were lots of guests, but no one's around."
"Maybe they got tired and dropped out?"
Chezare wouldn't have divided his assets among his relatives. Once a precedent was set, they'd keep hounding him forever.
The place was so eerily quiet that soon Catherine was flinging open every door she saw without thinking. And so, she casually opened the door at the end of the fourth-floor corridor, and...
"...So the Minister of Magic has to come from our side, no question! With the Seifran Crown Prince cozying up to the Papal Court, we can't stand by anymore!"
"Wishful thinking? The Imperial Minister of Magic has always been appointed by His Majesty's approval. Go whine to His Majesty yourself."
"His Majesty has rotated the position among talents from all three factions so far, including Crown Prince Seifran. And this time, it's the Crown Prince's faction up for Imperial Sorcerer Minister. No surprises there."
"If Duke Chezare himself petitioned, that could change!"
"Don't be dense, Count. Duke Chezare's just aiding us on His Majesty's orders. If you're smart, handle everything ourselves except funding!"
"Smart guy sees Duke Chezare as mere pocket change? Shut your trap, you!"
"What? Shut my trap? You little punk, I've eaten 3,000 more meals than you!"
She'd made a mistake, it seemed.
This was the largest, most ornate reception room she'd seen. Easily over twenty people crammed in, arguing fiercely. The silver lining? They were all so heated in their debate that no one noticed Catherine.
She tried to close the door quietly, but unluckily, one noble turned his head.
"Hold on, maid! Perfect timing. Bring the second-largest liquor bottle in this residence! I need to smash this fool's head with it to feel better!"
Maid? Me?
Catherine hesitated, half-closing the door before opening it again.
"Who do you think you are, wasting His Highness Chezare's assets like that? You mad?"
"That's why I said the second-largest! See if I don't... "
"Quiet."
Just one word. Barely audible over the clamor. But that icy voice silenced them all instantly.
"Everyone, close your eyes and cover your ears."
A young noble standing far off questioned it.
"Why?"
A nearby old noble scolded him.
"Ahem. If His Highness says close 'em, you close 'em. What are you, a brat backtalking? He has grand reasons. Hurry up."
And so the twenty nobles all closed their eyes and covered their ears.
The man who'd given the order spoke again.
"You can come in now, Catherine."
Unlike before, his tone was quite gentle.
Catherine cautiously opened the door and stepped inside. The voice's owner, Chezare, was just stubbing out a cigarette in the ashtray.
"Sorry, Chezare. Didn't know you were in an important meeting."
"Not really important. Feeding the dogs feels more productive."
Chezare beckoned her closer. Catherine shook her head and refused.
"I'll come back later."
"No need. Come here. I was going mad from boredom anyway."
Catherine slowly walked through the nobles with eyes and ears covered, approaching him. Maybe it was the timing, but from Chezare in the head seat, she felt a grandeur she'd never sensed from the grand noble before. It made her self-conscious.
Best to state her business and leave quickly.
"Nothing big. Planning to head to Panya tomorrow. And visit Busperfield while there."
"Already? You're a busy one. Lilith Ship stuff just happened, and it's been one day since the wedding. No rest for you?"
"Not that I don't want to... "
More than rest, she wanted to unravel her mother's secrets ASAP.
Chezare, gazing at her steadily, extended his hand. Catherine blankly stared at his smooth, large hand, then tentatively placed hers atop it. As if waiting, he naturally clasped it and said,
"Well, no need to overthink. We'll just take a vacation to Busperfield."
Catherine furrowed her brow.
Busperfield as a vacation spot? Wasn't that too dangerous? Well, with Chezare, any peril would turn into a thrill-seeking adventure, but...
"But not tomorrow—day after. Got commitments till afternoon tomorrow."
"Mm. Sure."
Tomorrow or day after, same difference.
Catherine disentangled her hand from his and turned.
"Gasp!"
The nobles, peeking through their fingers, gulped and whipped their heads away.
"Disgusting lot."
Chezare tsked loudly for all to hear.
Why was her face heating up? Feeling an inexplicable embarrassment, Catherine fled the reception room.