A Room Made Just for Me
The next morning, Celian prepared breakfast over the campfire using a simple set of cookware.
Whether it was Celian’s own thoroughness or the Deretia family’s, she had managed to put together a surprisingly decent meal from the ingredients stored inside the carriage. Even her movements as she cooked outdoors looked practiced and sure.
With our stomachs filled and the carriage repairs finished the night before, there was no reason left to linger. I had worried something else might break along the way, but the carriage carried us without further trouble all the way to Celian’s estate.
When the carriage stopped and a servant opened the door, I stepped down to find a vast mansion rising before me. True to the dignity of House Deretia, the place gleamed with opulence even from the outside. A fountain sparkled in the garden that peeked into view, and off to one side stood a statue that I guessed must be of the First Hero.
The household had already begun its daily routine; aside from a few servants, no one else was out to greet us. Given how late we had arrived after the accident, they had probably only received word when we passed through the city gates.
“Come, I’ll show you around.”
I handed my personal luggage to one of the butlers standing nearby and followed Celian through the mansion. The place was enormous, yet the layout felt familiar—whether because the same architect had designed both, or simply because noble houses shared a common style. It resembled Yuri’s estate enough that learning my way around was no real hardship.
After the tour, Celian led me to the room that would be mine during my stay.
“This will be your room while you’re here.”
Stepping inside, I took in an interior far more carefully arranged than any ordinary guest room. My eye for décor was nothing special, yet even my cheap sense of money could tell that no small effort had gone into furnishing the place. Every single decoration seemed chosen to strike exactly at my tastes.
Even the simple table set to one side looked almost identical to the one I had once spotted while shopping and bought on a rare impulse. Of course, the finish on this one was far finer than my cheap version; the price difference was probably greater than I wanted to imagine.
Back in my assassin days I used to lie in bed and daydream about it—the quiet life I would lead once I quit the trade, far from the noisy world, in a house decorated exactly to my liking. Now that I had actually left that life behind, the dream had grown more vivid. And here it was, right in front of me.
A bookshelf filled with novels here, exercise equipment there, a little table where I could take my time over tea… Every detail I had only ever imagined now filled the room.
The only odd part was how niche the taste felt for a guest room. I wasn’t being self-deprecating; my preferences simply weren’t ordinary. Growing up as an assassin made that inevitable, and I saw no reason to deny it. Even my dorm room at the academy was starker than anyone else’s.
A room that matched me so perfectly would probably earn poor marks from most visitors. For a fleeting moment I wondered if they had redecorated just for me—but that was pure fantasy. House Deretia had no reason to overhaul an entire guest suite for one person’s tastes, nor any need to go to the trouble.
I had never told anyone about that old dream, and Celian was no exception. We had grown close over the semester, true, but not so close that she could know every one of my preferences.
So this room must simply have been the product of coincidence piled on coincidence.
“Well? Do you like it?”
“Yeah. It’s uncanny how perfectly it suits me.”
“Of course. I never forgot a single thing El told me.”
Her words—that she had remembered every casual remark I had made and chosen the guest room that would fit me best—carried a quiet consideration that warmed me.
“Oh, are those novels on the shelf?”
I pointed to the bookcase I had noticed earlier.
“Yes. I filled it with books in the same genres I’ve recommended to you. They should be nice to read when you’re bored.”
Over the semester I had gone through quite a few volumes, all of them Celian’s recommendations. She seemed to have my tastes pinned down; she often suggested romance novels between women. Becoming a woman myself had made it easy to slip into the heroine’s place, while the memories of being a man still left me drawn to stories about loving women. It was a preference I could never admit aloud while wearing a female body, yet Celian never looked at me strangely—she simply treated novels as novels.
I would be busy following Celian around during the day, so I would save them for bedtime reading later.
“Shouldn’t I greet the Marquis and the others, though?”
“You’ll see them at dinner. Showing your face twice would just waste time, wouldn’t it? In that time we could…”
“True. The Marquis has his own schedule; barging in just to say hello would only be a nuisance.”
“Exactly. So don’t worry about it. Shall we unpack first?”
Celian picked up one of the bags the servants had already brought in. It wasn’t the one I had packed when I first left the academy—it was the bag Yuri had given me along with the clothes.
“You didn’t have this bag when we left the academy, did you?”
She remembered that I had parted from her with only one bag, and she undid the clasp. I thought we should just take the clothes bag to the dressing room instead of opening it here, but it was already wide open.
Celian must have had the same thought; the moment she looked inside she froze. Then she reached in and lifted out a garment.
“I’ve never seen… this dress before…?”
“Ah, when I stayed at Yuri’s place she said she didn’t wear these anymore and packed them for me. Almost brand-new, she said it would be a waste.”
“...Is that so?”
Celian set the dress down and pulled out another piece—my academy uniform.
“...El?”
“What?”
“Is this… really your uniform? I’m certain yours was…”
“Hm? Of course it’s mine, whose else would—oh, right. My uniform got torn at Yuri’s house, so she gave me a spare.”
With so many new clothes already, and no need to wear the uniform until I returned to the academy, I had completely forgotten.
I left the clothes bag to Celian and began unpacking the luggage I had brought from the start. I was stacking the now-familiar women’s underthings neatly into the lingerie drawer when her voice reached me.
“El?”
I turned. Celian was looking at me—though her eyes kept flicking toward the open drawer, as if curious what I was doing. Well, she was helping me unpack; I wasn’t so shameless as to slack off in front of her.
“You called?”
When I spoke, she seemed to realize I hadn’t been idling and met my gaze properly.
“Would you come with me?”
Instead of waiting for an answer she took my hand and pulled me along. I had no reason to refuse, and in any case Celian was stronger than I was, so I simply kept pace as she led me upstairs.
We arrived at a room on the upper floor. The moment we stepped inside I knew it was Celian’s—similar to her dorm room, and she guided me in without the slightest hesitation. She led me straight into the dressing room.
Why did this suddenly remind me of what had happened at Yuri’s mansion two weeks ago?
“Celi?”
Only after we entered the dressing room did she release my hand. Instead of answering she began rifling through the racks of clothes with focused energy.
...No way.
In the end my luggage grew to three bags. Just like with Yuri—perhaps even longer than with Yuri—I had been put through an extended fashion show as payment.
Yuri’s clothes and Celian’s both fit well enough overall, aside from being a little roomy in the chest. I was tired and embarrassed, but I decided to look on the bright side. A little temporary suffering in exchange for clothes I could never have afforded myself was an absurdly good deal.
Whether I would ever actually choose fashion over convenience when I wore them was another question, but I chose not to dwell on that.
“I should have done this sooner. I was a step too late. Honestly, even Yuri can’t be underestimated.”
Why are you competing with Yuri over something like this, Celian? Right now Yuri is probably relaxing comfortably at her own estate, completely unaware that you’re feeling competitive at all.
Well, Celian seemed satisfied, so I decided not to pick at that either.