A Puppy and a Cat Can Never Get Along (5)
Seeing Professor Niger's troubled expression, I figured it out almost immediately.
Something had come up with our Saturday plans.
It left a bitter taste in my mouth, but it wasn't as if I had any right to get angry over it. So I told him it was fine.
"Hmm... I did pester you pretty hard for it, but honestly, if something's come up, it's okay to push it back. After all, Sunday's right there."
Even if Saturday didn't work out, we could just meet on Sunday instead — that was how I tried to think about it.
"No, it's just... I'm sorry. I'm supposed to have a meeting with Lady Bellatrix, but she says she's busy and Saturday lunch is the only time that works for her."
At least, that was the reason — until I found out what it actually was.
The moment I heard those words, I hid the scowl that had begun to creep across my face. I clenched my fist tight and covered it all with a smile.
There it was again. The Duchess's daughter.
Even now, the image of the two of them alone together in that café flickered before my eyes. The feelings I'd had back then had been so intense that every time I recalled them, my mana would ripple and churn.
Of course, Professor Niger had only called it a meeting, but who knew what was really going on in that princess's heart?
This man only needed to be moderately handsome — did he really have to be absurdly, devastatingly handsome?
Though, admittedly, if he'd only been moderately handsome, I probably wouldn't have fallen for him this hard. But still. That wasn't the point.
So I fired back.
"Ah~, so it's a student meeting. Hmm... in that case, why not just have lunch together? Finish the meeting over the meal, and then the two of you can go wherever you like afterward."
I did not want to leave the two of them alone together. Just imagining them sharing a meal made my blood boil.
I had no idea what the Duchess's daughter was thinking, but Professor Niger was the man I had set my sights on.
This man.
He's mine.
The meeting place was barely twenty minutes away.
Crescent Street was a restaurant in the opposite direction from the Academy to my house, so it couldn't have been more than that far. The only problem was that Elia, apparently in no hurry whatsoever to actually arrive, had slowed her pace — and the time had stretched out accordingly.
I'm not sure whether Einstein's theory of relativity applies here, but from where I stood, those twenty minutes had flown by in an instant.
"Heh heh~ Once we're done eating, it might be nice to stop by here. The clothes in this shop are rather pretty."
"Yes, of course, Professor."
You see, Elia, her mood at its absolute peak, had been chattering nonstop the entire way. Slowly — and slower still with every step that brought us closer to the restaurant.
She went on and on about the weather, about this restaurant called Leporem, about how lovely the street was, about how refreshing the breeze was, and about how I was still as handsome as ever.
She never once paused for breath.
Since my answers were, by nature, short, each topic usually got resolved after only a few exchanges back and forth — but apparently none of that mattered to her.
Case in point: she had somehow talked herself all the way into dragging me out to shop for clothes.
"I had a feeling you'd be wearing that outfit again today. Ah, of course, I'm not complaining — it's just... pfft. I never would have guessed the reason was simply that you don't own anything else."
"...You can stop teasing me now. I don't usually go out on weekends, so I assumed I wouldn't need casual clothes."
Because, you see, even when Niger was out cracking people's skulls, he typically just threw a robe over his priest's vestments and called it a day.
I once asked what he'd do if blood splattered on him, and he answered that his vestments had magical treatment woven into them, so stains like that wiped right off.
He was, to a frankly unnecessary degree, serious about his murders.
In any case, we chatted our way to the meeting place — though I did pick up the pace a little.
It was already 11:45 by the time I noticed the clock. At this point, Bellatrix might well have arrived first and been waiting for us.
And so we stepped into the restaurant.
Leporem.
It wasn't the kind of place that required a reservation months in advance, unlike Cordelia, where we'd gone before.
Bellatrix had little interest in fine dining as such; she simply preferred adequate establishments where there wouldn't be too many people.
And just as I'd predicted, once I gave my name and stepped inside, the only thing that greeted us was quiet. Peaceful, unhurried, and utterly empty.
It was calm.
And there, in the middle of that hushed stillness, sat a woman alone with her eyes closed.
Her appearance was strikingly elegant. Even at a glance, there was a refinement about her — an unmistakable air of nobility.
For someone like me, who had lived more or less my entire life as a commoner, it was an atmosphere I could never hope to project.
Only then did I truly grasp, in my bones, that Bellatrix was a Duchess's daughter.
She looked so completely different from the girl in the Academy uniform that my eyes were drawn to her for a moment despite myself.
Whether it was her way of declaring war on skirts or not, she wore black wide-legged trousers with a light blazer draped over top, and the look suited her remarkably well.
Yes — how should I put it. It was a side of her I'd forgotten, if anything.
Or more precisely, a side of Bellatrix I had never been able to see until now.
Ever since my possession, every encounter with Bellatrix had been spent bickering over one thing or another. We almost never crossed paths outside the Academy.
And her attitude toward me had always been rather casual, at that.
Just as that thought crossed my mind, Bellatrix's closed eyes fluttered open.
And she turned her gaze toward me. The words followed the look.
"Hmm, Professor. You're not late, but I expected you a little earlier... hmm? Claudius?"
Bellatrix tilted her head at the unexpected figure standing beside me. Her expression clearly asked why on earth the two of us had walked in together.
"Ah, Professor Elia came along at my requ—"
I started to explain.
That is, I would have — if Elia hadn't been gripping my arm and glaring daggers at Bellatrix.
She seemed to be making an uncharacteristically fierce face, though honestly, I couldn't decide whether to read that pouting, arm-clutching expression as threatening at all.
No, seriously — why is she acting like this all of a sudden?
"...A request, you say. Looking at Claudius's face, I can't help but wonder just how tremendous a request it could possibly have been."
"I am not Claudius — I am Professor Elia!"
Elia was, at this point, very nearly growling.
"Lady Claudius, we are outside the Academy. Besides — I never told you this, but."
"Not a lady — a professor!"
"Lady, barking at me like that is nothing but tiresome, so just sit down. And you, Professor, staring off into space won't get you seated any faster. Sit."
"Grrr...!"
At Bellatrix's urging, I took the seat across from her.
And Elia slid into the chair beside mine, clutched the hem of my coat tight in her fist, and went right on glaring at Bellatrix.
I had no idea what kind of situation this was supposed to be, but if I had to judge it, I suppose I'd have to call it a landslide victory for Bellatrix — at least for now.
Hmm.
To be completely honest, part of me had wanted to see the two of them together.
Elia, endlessly warm and gentle, and Bellatrix, her polar opposite in every kind of indifference. A bright-eyed puppy and a prickly cat. And on top of that, a swordsmanship professor and a magic-major student.
They had not a single thing in common — and yet, in the original story, the two of them were practically inseparable.
Moreover, Elia had been the professor Bellatrix relied on more than anyone.
Which made perfect sense — under normal circumstances, Bellatrix's assigned professor would have been Elia in the first place.
So yes, I'd wanted to see that scene from the novel with my own eyes. If there's such a thing as romance in wanting that, then that was my romance.
"Professor Niger, Bellatrix's glare is absolutely terrifying right now...!"
"Hmm, Lady Claudius. My apologies, but I can hear every word. And I don't believe my glare is the problem here — it's more that you keep picking pointless fights with me."
Elia muttered those words under her breath as she watched Bellatrix order her food, utterly unbothered by having started the whole exchange.
"That wasn't meant for you to hear!"
"How remarkable. I've never once encountered a whisper that was spat out loud enough to be heard across the table."
"Grrr!"
Bellatrix batted away every one of Elia's jabs without missing a beat.
Rather than being genuinely bothered, she actually seemed to find this side of Elia rather entertaining — if anything, she was the one who had begun provoking first.
"'Grrr'? My, what a thoroughly capitalist sort of exclamation."
"No — you're not supposed to tease a professor!"
"As I said before, we're not at the Academy, so I'm afraid I can't bring myself to treat you as one. Ah — that was something the Professor sitting next to you once said, so I suppose I can't help it."
No, I never said anything like that.
Apparently, at some point when he'd met Bellatrix as Niger rather than as me, he had addressed her as "the Duchess's daughter" — a fact I had known nothing about until this very moment.
"If that's the case, then how come Professor Niger still calls you Professor?"
"That's simply how I feel about it."
And astonishingly enough, this tug-of-war that barely deserved the name continued all the way until the food arrived and was set down on the table before us.
The truth was, Elia was, by default, kind to almost everyone.
She could be merciless toward criminals, but toward the students of the Academy where she taught, she had always been unfailingly gentle.
So as far as I could tell, there was exactly one reason a woman that kind would go around with her hackles raised like this.
This.
In other words, she was currently regarding Bellatrix as her romantic rival.
Bellatrix's expression couldn't have made her lack of interest more obvious, and the fact that Elia could look at that face and still think that way honestly left me with questions.
"Bellatrix, you ARE heading straight home after lunch, right!"
"Hmm. Seeing you like this, Lady, makes me want to stay a little longer."
"Not lady — professor!"
"Right. Lady."
"No!"
Hmm...
It seemed my small little dream of watching the two of them get along.
Was going to come true — just bent slightly off course from the direction I'd been hoping for.