#066
Panya Marchioness fell silent for a moment. Glancing at Demian seated beside Catherine, she spoke.
"Catherine, bringing the Black Lion all the way here—does that mean you're fine if word of this gets out?"
Catherine turned her head at the marchioness's words. Demian was rolling his eyes, furtively gauging both her and the marchioness's reactions. Honestly, until just now, she'd completely forgotten he was even there.
Demian forced a stiff laugh, his face rigid. "Haha. Looks like family secrets are about to fly, so as Your Excellency suggests, I'll just—"
"Only Demian knows, right?"
Demian shot Catherine an anxious glance. "Of course, if I happen to hear it, I'll forget it the second I do! But you never know with people, so I'll just step out—"
"The Panya family hunts down its enemies to the grave. So Demian, it'd be best for your peace of mind to think of it as your secret too."
"Y-yes, right. So I'll go handle other tasks—"
"Catherine's right. We never let our family's enemies live. If this story leaks out... Black Lion, your tongue won't stay intact. Got it?"
Demian slumped, his half-risen backside plopping back onto the chair. His gaze toward Catherine screamed, Please let me leave, but she pretended not to notice. She believed it was a choice for the future that he knew the Panya family's secrets.
"I knew the day would come when I'd have to tell you this. Just didn't think it'd be so soon."
Panya Marchioness took a sip to wet her throat and leaned back comfortably in her chair. Her expression as she opened her mouth held a touch of nostalgia, like someone about to recount an old tale.
"As you know, Catherine, the Panyas have always welcomed exceptional talents into the family to maintain the strength needed to guard the empire's northern border."
"Yes, I know."
The Iterana Empire worshipped martial prowess. Even the imperial family had married off great mages to preserve their powerful bloodlines. Beyond that, with merit over bloodline, the fights for the throne were often talent wars.
"Your birth mother, Green Panya, wasn't my daughter. Nor was she human."
Demian quickly clamped a hand over Yaong's mouth. Catherine listened to Panya Marchioness's story with surprising calm.
"It was about forty years ago. Monster hordes descended on the border without fail, day after day. We sent out scouting parties nearly ten times over half a year, but none returned. I decided we had to uncover the truth before winter hit... so I went into Abyssland myself."
Mmph-mmph! Yaong shook her head vigorously, clearly desperate to say something, but Demian didn't let go.
"Back then, I'd just entered the half-transcendent realm, brimming with confidence. But in less than a week, my entire scouting party was wiped out. A demon stronger than any I'd faced blocked our path."
"No way..."
No way that demon was my mother?
"I fought it for a full day and beheaded it."
Not my mother, then. Catherine coughed dryly, feeling a bit awkward.
"But my wounds were too grave to return to Panya. I was sure to die there. If Green hadn't appeared."
"Mother did?"
Panya Marchioness nodded slowly at Catherine's question. Her voice, recounting the past, was unhurried and deliberate.
"It's still vivid in my mind. A young girl you could never see in Abyssland. Spotless, neatly dressed in a pristine dress. The monsters circling me, waiting for me to die, fled without a sound."
Abyssland was monster territory, with barely any explored areas. Countless expeditions had ventured in for relics and secrets over the years, but few returned.
"The girl asked if I wanted to live, and I said yes. Suddenly, my broken bones knit, my bleeding stopped. When I returned to the capital, a girl claiming to be my daughter was waiting—two days ahead of me. The same girl from Abyssland."
Demian, who'd been listening, whispered to her. "Feels like those demon ghost stories my nanny told me as a kid. Gives me chills."
Even knowing it was her mother's story, Catherine felt an eerie sensation throughout. I get it, but Demian must be freaking out.
Panya Marchioness continued. "I took her as my daughter and named her Green. She proved her talent, becoming one of the empire's renowned mages. She married Orleans Viscount and bore you, Catherine."
A brief silence fell.
Panya Marchioness had never married—a fact Catherine had known since childhood, so she'd long suspected her mother was born out of wedlock. She'd known her mother was a demon, but hadn't been sure if the marchioness knew. Demons infiltrated human lives in myriad ways. Catherine had guessed her mother killed the real "Green Panya" and taken her place. That's partly why she'd planned to visit Busperfield if Panya yielded nothing.
But Grandmother knew Mother's true nature from the start.
Thinking back, their mother-daughter bond had always seemed oddly distant. The marchioness poured all her affection onto Catherine, her granddaughter—despite knowing she wasn't blood-related.
"Don't even think something foolish like you and I being strangers. You're the daughter of Green Panya, whom I raised, and the last heir of Panya March. Get any dumb ideas and you'll get an earful from this old lady."
Catherine flinched and nodded vigorously. "Don't worry, Grandmother. I wouldn't."
I'm Grandmother's real granddaughter. I'm Grandmother's real granddaughter. She brainwashed herself to avoid slip-ups in front of the marchioness. She was grateful for the words but didn't want to disappoint her.
After a moment's hesitation, she voiced the lingering question even after the tale. "Then you don't know Mother's exact identity either?"
"I don't. But I can guess."
The fourth round poured into her empty glass. Yet Panya Marchioness's face remained unflushed. Rumor had it only Emperor Shagweed II could outdrink her.
"Guess how?"
"Obvious, isn't it? Dragon or demon."
Catherine blinked blankly. On second thought, her magic nullification didn't guarantee a demon mother. Dragon hybrids had it too, though rare and seldom mentioned, unlike nephilim.
"But more likely a high-ranking demon than dragon. As you learned in magology, dragons as a race..."
"Despise humans."
Dragons scorned mana-less humans, avoiding contact. Their hatred was so deep they'd targeted humans specifically for years—like the evil dragon Garsalroff Chezare had hunted recently. People feared dragons more than demons, who at least didn't see humans as insects.
Yaong, freed from Demian's hand, asked with wide eyes. Demian looked shocked too.
Catherine replied calmly. "Right. I'm a nephilim."
Hearing it from anyone but Chezare would've taken ages to accept. But from the archdemon himself, it sank in without fuss. She'd promised eternity with him—how could she waver over being "just" a nephilim?
"You knew already."
At Panya Marchioness's probing look, Catherine came clean. "I found out naturally during magology lessons with Chezare—no, His Highness Chezare."
The marchioness narrowed her eyes. "That wasn't a joke?"
"That he told me?"
"That he is tutoring you. Black Lion, is it true Duke Chezare is teaching my granddaughter?"
Demian, suddenly in the hot seat, nodded stiffly. "Yes, Lady Catherine is right. Lord Chezare and the lady..."
Don't say lovers. Absolutely don't.
Noticing her scorching glare, Demian fumbled. "L-Lord Chezare and the lady have a great mentor-student bond! Haha!"
Panya Marchioness stroked her chin, murmuring in astonishment. "Hard to believe. Him teaching you, Catherine? I thought you had less magic talent than a mouse turd..."
To her, even family got blunt truth. Catherine gave an awkward smile at the gut-punch wisdom.
"Must've piqued His Highness's competitive side. Anyway, unlike when I was young, I'm learning well now, and the results show, so it's fun."
"I see. Your face says it all."
Did I grin like an idiot? Embarrassed, Catherine touched her cheek.
"Then this old lady's satisfied. I'll chat with the duke later."
Panya Marchioness rose. Time for Catherine to return to her room too.
As she opened the door, Catherine paused and called out. "Grandmother."
The marchioness, polishing her sword blade, glanced up wordlessly.
Feeling like a childish kid, Catherine asked, "Why did Mother have me?"
Panya Marchioness set down her sword and countered. "Do you think there's a reason to have a child?"
"Why else come to Panya?"
Even asking, Catherine knew what answer she craved. Probably the marchioness did too.
"Even if she bore you for some clear purpose, she loved you as a mother. No one who knew you two could deny that—not even your father. Does that answer your question?"
"...Yes."
Panya Marchioness resumed polishing. Catherine quietly closed the door and left with Demian.
Strange. It was an obvious answer, yet her heart felt much lighter.