Antagonized Bachelorette Enjoying a Simple Life - Chapter 99
The next day was hectic from the morning on, all because of the debate over which necklace to choose for Yaong. The mansion was in an uproar.
"Yaong is a fluffy, adorable yellow kitty! So she has to wear this cute ribbon necklace with the golden bell!" Roze declared forcefully, hoisting up the ribbon in her hand. It was a charming, dainty ribbon designed specifically for pet cats, adorned with red lace and gold bells in perfect harmony.
But Demian's reaction was lukewarm.
"Yaong might look like she's just the size of a human fist—tiny and weak..."
I'm not tiny!
"That's what I'm saying. Her true form is a massive, majestic winged lion. And after eating something weird in Panya and reaching adulthood, she's even bigger than before..."
I'm not a lion. Comparing me to those oversized savanna cats is an insult!
"Anyway! She's huge and scary, so she needs a necklace to match—something super intimidating!" Demian opened a large wooden box on the table. Inside lay a spiked collar made of iron, studded with gleaming silver barbs, meant for fighting dogs.
Roze stared at it in disbelief.
"How do you plan to put something this ridiculously huge on Yaong? On a tiny little thing like her!"
I'm not lit—
"Of course, this is for her true form. There's a cat-sized one next to it." Sure enough, tucked inside the box was a relatively smaller fighting dog collar. Even so, it was heavy enough to snap a kitten's neck.
Roze covered her mouth and laughed at the sight.
"Mr. Demian, you really are beyond common sense. You never disappoint."
"Haha. I've got high standards. Even you think it's super cool, right, Miss Roze?"
Humans like Demian who live so positively will probably outlive us all no matter what.
Now it was just me left. Catherine snorted after inspecting the competing necklaces.
"You're all forgetting something crucial. What Yaong needs isn't some cutesy or creepy pet accessory. It has to be something special and antique—elegant enough to complement her refined, noble bearing."
Exactly! Catherine gets it. But what's 'elegant' mean?
"It means 'good.'" Catherine pulled out a cat necklace from its luxurious velvet box. Roze's eyes widened at the sight.
"This is... the custom necklace you ordered in Beaton Blue, miss?"
"That's right. Made to order by a cat necklace artisan who's specialized in nothing but feline collars for thirty years—exclusively for Yaong."
Demian narrowed his eyes and examined it.
"It just looks ordinary..."
"It's perfection." Roze shoved Demian aside and cradled the necklace in both hands, gazing at it in rapture.
"These stitches, uniform to the point of suffocation. The subtle sparkle of the diamond settings. Neither is the work of an ordinary craftsman."
"Diamonds on a cat necklace...?"
"I surrender, miss. This soft purple dolphin-patterned fabric and the bell that evokes a blue sea! You chose it with Yaong's blue eyes in mind. Your meticulousness and aesthetic sense are unbeatable."
Roze really knew her stuff. Catherine calmly patted the shoulder of her defeated maid.
"Thanks. Yours was no slouch either."
"No way. Yours and mine are on the same level, aren't they?"
So noisy. Catherine sighed and shot a glare at Demian, who was about to pipe up again.
"If you don't know, stay quiet, Demian. Yaong? Pick the one you like best out of these three."
Ahem. Yaong rose and padded between the three necklaces. Roze's pick: pure cuteness. Demian's: sheer menace. Catherine's: just expensive.
Yaong circled them before her paw finally settled on the winner.
This one's the most elegant.
The glorious victor beneath her plush paw was Catherine's pricey necklace. Hmph, as expected! Roze nodded vigorously, fully convinced.
"A fitting result. To be chosen, this level of preparation is essential. I'll have to put in more effort next time."
I'll wear Roze's sometimes too.
"Oh, thank you! Now, I'll go tend the garden with lazy Mr. Demian. Lazy and defeated—up you get!"
Demian rose slowly, shooting Yaong a wistful look. But she was merciless.
I'd die before wearing that thing. Take it back.
Demian slunk out of the drawing room with a dejected face. Catherine fastened the new necklace around the majestic Yaong's neck. Gazing at the intersecting purple and blue dolphin patterns, she thought of Chezare's eyes.
Come to think of it, Fontpado Madam didn't seem to notice Chezare's eyes are purple.
It was odd. If all magic nullifiers could discern a demon's true eye color, Chezare's identity would have been public knowledge long ago. But everyone saw him as a remarkable human archmage, didn't they?
Maybe I can because I'm Lilith's successor.
If so, she needed to relearn magical theory from the ground up. Most of Catherine's knowledge came from her mother—lessons to groom her as Lilith's heir. They likely included theories unacceptable by human standards.
"Human standards."
I'm not human. Not even nephilim. Her identity had shifted twice in days. If someone revealed she was actually a gargoyle, she wouldn't bat an eye.
As she sorted her thoughts, Catherine pulled out her notebook. In the short time they'd spent deciding Yaong's necklace, a message from Giovanni had arrived.
Busy, got it. Catherine snapped the notebook shut without regret. She'd once questioned her Transfer root, but not anymore. Knowing she was Lilith's successor explained everything.
Even if I don't know the detailed theory.
Close enough. How much time passed like that? Amid the peaceful flow, a subtle unease began to creep in.
What is this?
Catherine wandered outside as if drawn. She didn't know what pulled her, but the sensation was unpleasant and hot—like the stench of a sewer, though it wasn't auditory.
She snapped to when she reached the freshly tended garden. Where was this discomfort coming from?
A sharp yell rang out somewhere.
"Ptoo! Damn Pope's lackeys. Why do you keep showing up? Scram already!"
"Haha. Are you this mansion's gatekeeper? Quite the mouth on you."
By voice and tone, it was definitely Demian. He was arguing with an outsider in front of the firmly shut front gate. The man wore a half-tattered overcoat, but the priestly robes beneath were unmistakable. A missionary? Demian's response seemed too rough for that.
"Miss." Roze grabbed Catherine as she moved toward the gate, her face full of fear.
"Be careful. It's Bellacups Cardinal."
Bellacups Cardinal. The name felt vaguely familiar.
"If Lily Saint Knight is Pope Marcus III's golden boy, Bellacups Cardinal is his right-hand man. They say even in the Papal Court, he's not easy to meet. Why would someone so important come all the way here?"
That's what I want to know.
Has this place got a sign saying 'weirdos welcome'?
The source of the unease seemed to be the cardinal. Catherine stopped five or six paces from the gate and beckoned Demian.
"Demian, come here."
He'd been acting like a thug, but whispered low the moment he approached.
"His aura's strong. Shabby clothes, but no ordinary guy."
Figures. The Pope's right hand, after all.
"It's Bellacups Cardinal."
"...Pardon?"
"You know him?"
"Well, sort of. I've heard the name."
An imperial knight should recognize the Papal Court's bigwig, even if I don't have to.
The outsider—Bellacups Cardinal—spoke slyly.
"Are you the lady of the house? My, much younger and more beautiful than I imagined."
He chuckled dryly and shook his head.
"I figured some ordinary local girl or old lady he'd saved. Never dreamed he'd be hiding away a cutie like you."
What the hell? Beware people who talk to themselves. By that metric, Bellacups Cardinal was top-tier dangerous.
As she eyed him warily from afar, he let out a hearty laugh.
"No need to be on guard, miss. Anyone would think I was a terrorist. Here... Sir Benedict asked me to deliver this letter."
Percival's letter. Once, she'd have sneered at how pathetic it was. Not anymore. Her mouth went dry with subtle tension.
"So tacky."
Demian, oblivious to her thoughts, trash-talked Percival as usual.
A cardinal personally delivering a single letter?
Percival wasn't the type for flashy deliveries. They'd spent little time together, but she knew that much. Was this really from him? Or intercepted midway?
Suspicious. Better send him packing.
Catherine strode forward, snatched the proffered letter, and retreated.
"Thanks."
Bellacups Cardinal smacked his lips, staring at his empty hand.
"Hm. If you have time, how about a warm cup of tea inside...?"
"I don't share tables with shady types."
"Eh? What's shady about me? All I've got is this wallet." He ostentatiously pulled a fancy leather wallet from his inner pocket. A luxury item clashing with his priestly robes.
"Appreciate the letter. Tell him no reply."
The cardinal let out a short exclamation.
"Well, well. Unrequited love, even? Unbelievable. Astonishing."
He tucked the wallet away and asked her,
"I hear you're Duke Chezare's disciple. Satisfied with his teachings?"
How'd that spread? Chancellor Col must have a looser tongue than expected.
"Miss, he's too suspicious. Don't answer—just go inside."
"Right. I'll give him a piece of my mind and chase him off."
The cardinal beat Catherine to it.
"Feels like I've been branded a scoundrel by accident. I just expressed simple admiration. A disciple of the great Duke Chezare must be a once-in-a-century genius..."
He rummaged in his pockets again. When he thrust his arm through the bars, a crisp beige business card gleamed between his neat fingers.
"If you're ever interested in the Papal Court, contact me anytime. Talented youth are always welcome."
She stood still, so he waved insistently until she reluctantly took it.