Chapter 95
The gazes of the Panya Marchioness and the Panya family knights burned even hotter. Catherine couldn't help letting out a sigh.
'If you act like that, people are going to get the wrong idea.'
Just because of her close relationship with Chezare, Catherine was suddenly receiving an unprecedented level of attention she'd never experienced before. The front of the mansion was swarmed with reporters who'd heard strange rumors, and out of nowhere, a letter arrived from an imperial prince she didn't even know. Among the growing pile of letters, there was even a noblewoman inviting her to a salon, using some hazy encounter from ten years ago as an excuse.
But what if the rumors spread that she was Chezare's lover—not even his disciple, but his actual paramour?
'Then it's time to move. To some far-off country where no one can find me.'
As Catherine lost herself in fantasies of fleeing to a distant land, a subtle battle of wills continued between Chezare and the Panya family.
"Your jokes feel particularly lively today, Your Highness. You're one of the oldest men on the continent, after all—easily in the top ten."
"Top ten fingers? Thanks for counting me young."
"Even so, please keep a proper distance from my promising granddaughter. There are already more than five young bucks trailing after her."
"Youth is a wonderful thing. But it seems the Marchioness has forgotten something. I'm not just young—I've got money, too. And power comes with the package."
"Don't you feel even a shred of shame? Like brothers, like manners!"
"Hm. I truly can't fathom why the Marchioness is getting so worked up. I'll restrain myself, considering your age."
Apparently, getting older didn't make everyone mature. Watching the Panya Marchioness and Chezare bicker made Catherine reflect on the vanity of it all. Even her peers didn't play around like that.
"Hahaha! Haha!"
Demian Rodria's booming laughter suddenly cut through their squabble, drawing all eyes to him. He straightened up with an awkward expression.
"Ahem. It was so hot, I just laughed for a bit. Laughter chases away the heat, you know."
"This guy's got a sense of humor!"
Karl clapped Demian heartily on the back in approval. Yeah, even battle-hardened knights probably couldn't endure the petty squabbling of these two great warriors for long.
Gilroa Knight jumped in eagerly, as if he'd been waiting for his cue.
"Did you know, Your Highness? Your visit has got the border guard knights all tensed up. Like the imperial knights themselves."
"They must think I'm a bloodthirsty monster."
"Not at all. To those who worship martial prowess, Your Highness is a living legend."
"Exactly. They're all dying for just a glimpse of your face."
If Karl and Gilroa were dogs instead of men, their tails would be wagging furiously behind them right now. The two knights looked thrilled, a far cry from their earlier wary glares.
"If it's not too much trouble, could you visit the knight order sometime...?"
"That doesn't sound like a request for a mage."
"Please, don't say that! Every knight in Iterana knows you once ruled the continent as a magic swordsman."
Magic wasn't enough—he had to excel with the sword, too?
'Well, Mars the Great was known as an outstanding magic swordsman, after all.'
At this point, Catherine wouldn't even bat an eye if someone said Chezare was the world's greatest pie chef. According to her guidebook, her mother had wandered around earning all sorts of bizarre titles.
"If I have time after my business here, sure."
"Thank you."
"The lads will love it."
With Chezare's permission, the parlor's atmosphere warmed up again. The world of warriors was incomprehensible to an ordinary criminal like her. Happy just to have him drop by for a look? Even Demian was sparkling with excitement, making it even harder to understand.
After the knights returned to their posts, Catherine voluntarily retreated to her room. The mood felt ripe for serious conversations she had no desire to insert herself into.
Contrary to her expectations, it seemed Chezare's visit to Panya had a legitimate purpose. As soon as she heard the Panya Marchioness and Col Chancellor had left the parlor, Catherine went straight to find him.
"Chezare, what really brought you all the way to Panya?"
He was still in the parlor, drafting a telegram. White smoke drifted like mist from the cigarette dangling at his lips. The moment their eyes met, the butt—now just a stub—was crushed like tissue paper and buried in the crystal ashtray.
'He smokes a lot when I'm not around. But it's amazing—no smell at all.'
Chezare had been the great demon Leviathan just last night, yet now he seemed so utterly human it felt strange.
"Coming here with the chancellor means it must be something big."
Chezare removed his glasses as he replied.
"It's about the Continental Peace Maintenance Conference."
The Continental Peace Maintenance Conference. This grandiose eight-syllable event lived up to its name with equally grand objectives. As the title suggested, it focused on continental peace. Held every five years, leaders from nations and organizations deemed "contributory to continental peace" gathered for a week of valuable discussions—or so the definition went. But Catherine had no idea what topics were actually debated or decided. She had zero interest in politics.
"Come to think of it, I saw an article in the paper saying it's coming up in a month."
It was from skimming the headlines in the morning paper that Roze always prepared. For the record, Roze read seven different newspapers cover to cover every day.
Chezare continued drafting the telegram at a rapid pace.
"Iterana Empire's representatives have always been Shagweed II, me, and the chancellor. But this year, Col's health makes it hard for him to attend. So we're asking the Panya Marchioness to stand in."
"The chancellor? He looked healthy to me. Or does he have some hidden illness...?"
"He's just whining because he doesn't want to work."
"What kind of illness is it?"
"Canker sores."
Wow. A real serious condition.
"Did Grandmother accept the request?"
"The Panya Marchioness has never defied Shagweed II's orders—not once. She's putting on a show of reluctance, but she'll accept by morning. Just like always."
Catherine sat beside him and peeked at the telegram he was writing. Even knowing she was snooping, Chezare didn't stop her.
'It's to Shagweed II.'
It roughly said the Panya Marchioness had accepted the request. But hadn't he said she'd accept tomorrow? Sending today's telegram for tomorrow's acceptance—truly befitting a duke's creative efficiency.
Gazing at the nearly finished telegram, Catherine's mouth fell open blankly.
"Chezare."
His cobalt-blue eyes flicked toward her.
"Have you tried to die again without telling me?"
The hand scribbling with the fountain pen froze abruptly.
"Why ask that out of the blue?"
"They say once suicidal urges start, they keep coming back."
After a moment of silence, he finished the last sentence, stamped the seal with practiced ease, and handed it to his attendant. Only after the attendant left did Chezare fully turn to Catherine.
"A bit blunt, but... not wrong."
"So you have?"
Chezare's gaze drifted to the high, clear autumn sky outside the window.
"It's a beautiful day. How about we talk outside?"
Despite his words, he was already standing, donning his coat.
It was an offer too good to refuse, so she nodded immediately.
"Sounds good. Let me change and—"
It was just a quick finger snap. Suddenly, a fine autumn coat draped over her thin indoor dress, and her head felt heavier—probably from the hat he'd magicked onto her.
"Let's go."
Chezare had also shifted from his casual two-piece to a meticulously buttoned three-piece suit. Stylish as ever. Both the magic and Chezare.
Her steps felt light as they left the castle. With him by her side, it was like having a heavenly host—any worries melted away like snow.
Still, there was one lingering concern in the corner of her mind...
"I never imagined you'd been thinking about death since 600 years ago."
Yeah, this part. Catherine took it seriously, but Chezare's reaction was lukewarm. His face was as calm and steady as if she'd just told him the lunch menu.
Maybe no need to worry. If so, that was a relief.
'Still curious what he's thinking, though.'
Curious, but she had no intention of repeating questions he was dodging. There were plenty of other things to ask him anyway.
"Hey. So you've remembered me from that day all the way until now?"
No answer to this one either.
"Have you remembered me?"
But this felt different from before. Not brushing it off, but carefully choosing his words.
Catherine stepped in front of him, walking backward. When she leaned in close, his averted gaze—pretending not to notice—was so uncharacteristic.
"Right? You remembered? So why no answer? Say something—anything."
"I'm pondering how to explain it."
"What's to ponder? If you remembered, you remembered."
Chezare lowered his eyes, then suddenly wrapped an arm gently around her waist.
"Walk straight. Don't get so excited you trip."
He turned her body back to his side. The problem? A deep rut in the dirt path right in front of them—Yaong's handiwork. The little rascal had been scampering everywhere.
"Give me the ring."
Without protest, Chezare handed over the crystal ring. The shadowy blackness that had engulfed it was gone; now it was just transparent glass.
"Still pristine after 600 years."
She slipped it on. Perfect fit.
"Mars said this ring is a magic tool that crosses time and space."
Glancing at Chezare, he wore an odd expression—like watching a three-mouted pierrot dance.
"Why the weird face?"
"Referring to my past self like a stranger feels off."
With that, he slipped the ring off her finger.
"This is a very dangerous item. Keep it hidden in some secret place no one will see."
"Then you hold onto it. I'm no good at hiding things."
"Strictly speaking, it's Lilith's relic. You okay with that?"
"You're not going to run off with it."
"True enough."
Chezare tucked the ring inside his coat. She'd been following him aimlessly, but when she came to, they were strolling near the Abyssland entrance. Up on the walls, a few knights watched them until the end. No worry in their gazes—probably because of her companion.
"Watch your step."
The only things Catherine needed to worry about were the loose dirt path and large stones catching her heels. His hand steadying her precarious steps felt perfectly natural. Something Mars could never dream of, huh? It was almost ridiculous.
"Why did a person... no, a demon... change so much?"