#073
At first, Catherine thought all the fuss would end with Chezare smashing the aerial garden to bits. But contrary to her fears, no such disaster unfolded. The massive whale glided leisurely between the towering buildings of the floating garden. Mages scurried about the spires, bracing for Chezare's arrival. This level of response made it feel less like a visit and more like an invasion.
Top-level alert? Guess that's par for the course.
Before she knew it, Catherine's surroundings had cleared out completely. The once-bustling tower fell eerily silent, devoid of any human presence. The only sound echoing through the quiet halls was the distant footfalls of Demian, who stood a ways off.
"Miss."
"What if Chezare beats me to a pulp? Then what?"
His voice was half-accusing her, half-resigned to his fate.
"Don't worry. I'll talk him down."
"You don't sound too confident."
"Quit making me talk. My brain's in overdrive right now."
How did Chezare find out? Catherine pondered it alone, only to realize it was a stupid question. They'd planned to head to Busperfield together, so if she went radio silent, of course he'd assume she'd left without him.
But I left even earlier on purpose for that reason?
The appointment to meet Chezare was set for late afternoon, and it was barely past lunchtime now. Surely not enough time to raise suspicions?
Then a voice flashed through her mind.
'I've infused it with my magic, so it'll keep you safe even if you go without me.'
"Right, he said he enchanted the ticket back then..."
He must've sensed exactly where I was and what I was doing. Catherine sighed at her own idiocy, tempted to bash her head against the wall right then and there. The thought hadn't even crossed her mind when she'd decided to visit Busperfield solo. She really ought to ditch this useless lump of a brain—it reeked so badly even crows would steer clear.
"Miss."
That's when Demian grabbed her shoulder and yanked her behind him. From the silent vicinity, precise, measured footsteps approached without a hint of disorder.
Soon, ten fully armored men appeared, clad head to toe in gear. The lead mage, apparently their captain, spoke in a stiff tone.
"By order of Commander Giovanni. Please come with us."
Demian shot back with a snide edge.
"You think we'd just follow you in a situation like this? Brains must've gone to waste studying spells—no room left for common sense."
The mage's expression hardened further.
"If you don't comply immediately, we'll have to use force."
"See, that's exactly why we won't come."
Demian had a real talent for getting under people's skin. The scowling mage raised an arm, signaling his men.
"No choice, then. Commence capture of the—"
"No choice? Fine, neither do we!"
Demian's form shot forward in an instant. Before the mage could reflexively cast a spell, Demian struck the nape of his neck, sending him crumpling limply to the floor.
Demian comes through when it counts!
While she admired his skill, he took on four more at once, dropping them one by one. By the time five lay sprawled unarmed at his feet, Demian rolled his shoulders with a gleeful grin.
"Whew. Feels good to stretch the legs after so long~!"
No doubt about it—Demian became a knight because he loved beating people up (though ideally, knights should aim for the opposite).
To keep him from veering further off course, Catherine gave him a token scolding. Otherwise, he'd probably resort to violence against anyone who got in his way.
"Demian, you didn't need to go that far. Giovanni wouldn't have ordered them to drag us by force. Unless they panicked on their own."
"I figured as much."
"Then why'd you do it?"
"'Cause it pissed me off."
Fair enough. Dusting off his hands, Demian headed back toward the window. Remor's colossal bulk still flowed like water between the buildings. Whether Giovanni had confronted him already was anyone's guess. But judging by the welcoming committee, Giovanni seemed to think Chezare had come looking for Catherine too.
"Only you'd make Lord Chezare show up in person."
Damn right. I'm his one and only contractor.
"Let's head out first. That restaurant by the plaza with the boarded-up door sounds good."
But Catherine didn't move toward the exterior as Demian suggested. Using a magic key, they ended up in the spacious reception room where Giovanni had greeted them earlier.
"Uh, this ain't it, is it?"
"Heading out now's too risky."
Meeting Chezare with Giovanni nearby? Fine. But if Belial was there too?
No way. Asmodeus could tip her off about my face later.
Better to lure Chezare here instead. Safer that way.
"Queen."
A red magic circle materialized in the air at her call. Queen appeared at a size fitting the room.
「Again? ...Hmm. Smells like my liege and that brute's stink mixed together. Is that dumb Remor here?」
Queen sniffed at the empty air. Catherine issued her command.
"Tell Chezare I'm here. And make sure no one else overhears."
「Piece of cake. Alright, time to mess with that oaf Remor a bit.」
A deafening crack echoed as Queen shot outside, shattering the reception room's floor-to-ceiling windows. Sorry, Giovanni. I'll cover the damages.
Moments later, the closed door creaked open quietly, and long legs strode purposefully toward Catherine.
"Chezare."
Three steps, one bow? Would that soothe him? She'd had her reasons for ditching him, but facing him now brought a wave of guilt. Against Demian or Percival, she wouldn't have batted an eye.
Was this what he meant by bonds thicker than blood?
But there was no icy glare as expected. Chezare closed the gap in one stride, tilting her chin to inspect her face, then released it with evident relief.
"No injuries, it seems."
Chezare's gaze... if she had to describe it, was like that of an older brother eyeing a hopelessly disobedient little sister. Catherine breathed a deep sigh of relief.
Thank goodness Chezare was the strongest in the world. Nothing fazed him, and he never blew up over anything.
"I'm fine. I hit people, not the other way around."
"Not even exasperating anymore."
Despite his words, the faint tension in his eyes seemed to ease. He rubbed his brow wearily and pulled over a nearby chair. But he said nothing more, seemingly waiting for her to speak first. So Catherine obliged with the question he wanted.
"Not gonna scold me?"
"Why would I?"
"I lied to you and came alone."
Chezare uncrossed his legs, folded his arms, and straightened from his slouched pose on the chair. No usual smile—this put her on edge.
"To be honest... I'd half-expected it."
Expected? That she'd come to Busperfield by herself?
"You didn't tear up the enchanted ticket, so it didn't seem like you were hiding it. That's why I'm not that mad."
Carrying the ticket around in the aerial garden had been a slip-up. But Catherine didn't point that out. Because he'd said "not that mad," not "not mad at all."
"I thought you were furious since you brought Remor along."
"Far from it. Busperfield folk are insufferably proud of their power—you have to crush them from the start to make them listen. Remor was for that purpose."
Demian, leaning against the wall and listening quietly, nodded vigorously in agreement.
"Classic Chezare military doctrine! Right up my alley."
Chezare ignored him entirely. Instead, he answered Catherine's query.
"Catherine. Are you that anxious?"
Meaning he'd known she'd seek Giovanni's scholarly help. Before she could respond, Chezare pressed on.
"If my explanations failed to reassure you, I apologize. Seems my words only made you uneasy. Let me say it again: Catherine, no demon or human can touch me."
"Whoa! Classic Chezare. You're amazing!"
She'd meant to flatter him, but his expression turned sharp. Wrong approach. Catherine clamped her mouth shut.
"What I mean is, you didn't need to go this far. Asmodeus or whoever might scare you, but they can't lay a finger on you. Not while I'm still breathing."
At the name Asmodeus, Catherine glanced at Demian. Fortunately, he showed no suspicion—just taking it as a comparison to another powerhouse.
"Of course, you said you'd protect me, but..."
Chezare trailed off, his eyes complicated. Even when chewed out by her mother or the Panya Marchioness, excuses only prolonged the lecture. Best to take it quietly.
But Chezare sighed and suddenly released her hand, standing and turning away.
"Pity I couldn't earn that much trust from you."
His low mutter hit her ears clearly. Her heart sank.
She'd never imagined he'd blame himself. If she'd known, she never would've come to this narcissistic Busperfield alone.
Panicking, Catherine rushed forward and hugged his back.
"S-sorry!"
Through his cheek, she felt the solid muscles of his back beneath coat, vest, and shirt. Lean, firm waist without an ounce of fat. Despite her sudden embrace, Chezare stood unmoving, rooted like a pillar.