A Repulsive Suitor and an Unlikely Savior
Damn it.
The moment Pagoda Boutère tilted his chin up and planted himself squarely in my path, I bit down on my lip.
“I’ve been terribly worried about you, you know. A woman as delicate as yourself, carrying such heartrending grief—I’ve wondered all along how you could possibly bear it.”
“Ah… yes, thank you.”
By then, Gale’s shadow had already vanished without a trace.
But I didn’t notice, and neither did Pagoda, who kept chattering away with nary a care in the world.
“My lady. It’s early days yet, but if you ever find yourself in need of something to lean on, do write to me anytime.”
Confronted with me as a widow, Pagoda was even more brazen than before.
“They say only a person can mend a broken heart, after all. I may be nothing more than a mere marquis, but I do possess a rather respectable territory… You understand, don’t you? Junk food you taste only now and then is always so much more stimulating, so much more tempting.”
“Yes, well—perhaps we could talk another—”
Garbage talk, nothing more, and I hadn’t the slightest need to hear the rest of it.
I was mumbling something vague and trying to slip away when a hand snatched my arm, binding my feet to the floor.
I looked down, and a large hand filled my vision.
“…!”
A shiver crawled over my whole body, and I went rigid on the spot.
“My lady. I don’t believe I’ve finished speaking.”
His voice had gone heavy, and the quiet pressure beneath it wrung a cold sweat from me before I even realized it.
“How about a cup of tea once today’s auction concludes? I know a rather famous café.”
“…I, um…”
“You have plenty of time anyway, I’m sure. Isn’t that right?”
“C-could you let go of my arm first—”
Thump. Thump. Thump.
No. Get lost while I’m being polite. Should I call the guards?
It would have taken only three words to end this, and yet my lips stayed sealed as if someone had glued them shut. Never mind that reason itself told me he wouldn’t dare harm me in public, in broad daylight.
Again—stupid, stupid…!
Just as I squeezed my eyes shut, a familiar voice carried over from somewhere nearby.
“Excuse me.”
I looked up to find Claude standing right beside me, arms crossed, staring at me blankly.
“What exactly do you think you’re doing?”
At the sudden appearance of this uninvited interloper, Pagoda’s eyes narrowed to slits.
“And who might you be?”
“I asked what you’re doing.”
Claude’s gaze stayed fixed on me, unrelenting.
I blinked back at him, unable to hide my bewilderment, and at last my frozen lips came unstuck.
“Claude? What are you doing here…?”
“I came as the family’s representative. Someone wouldn’t stop nagging me about it.”
Apparently sent on Belladonna’s orders, Claude made it painfully obvious that he wanted nothing more than to be anywhere but here.
“Anyway, what’s this? Do you know this guy?”
Claude’s indifferent eyes dropped crookedly onto Pagoda.
The composition created by their overwhelming difference in height made it look as though he were gazing down at the man from above.
Had Pagoda felt the humiliation of being reduced to an insect underfoot? His lips twitched convulsively, distaste bleeding through that actor’s smile.
“Hold on. Now that I think of it, aren’t you the—”
“Ugh, shut up. We’re in the middle of something here. Be quiet.”
“What? You’re the one who barged in, and now you’re—!”
Leaving Pagoda to turn red and purple and work himself into a froth, Claude wearily scratched his ear as though bored.
He clearly had no intention of backing down until I gave him an answer, and only then did my lips falter, belatedly.
“W-well, you see, it’s…”
“Can’t hear you.”
“He’s… someone I know, sort of…”
“Is that all? Then I’m leaving.”
No, don’t go!—that’s what I should have said, but my mind had gone white as paper and refused to produce the next word.
Unable to stomach my stammering any longer, Claude scrunched up his face and turned his back on me outright.
No, wait!
My fingertips sliced through empty air.
“Ugh… what a chore, honestly.”
Claude, who had been trudging away without a care, abruptly stopped in his tracks.
Then he wheeled right around, strode back in long angry steps, and seized Pagoda by the arm.
“Wh-what’s the meaning of—?”
And then, to the man blinking at him in open confusion, Claude delivered his ultimatum.
“Take your hand off her while I’m asking nicely. Or would you rather I break it?”
Once the eyes of the crowd began drifting toward them, Pagoda finally turned tail and ran.
“You—just you wait. I’ll be filing a formal petition with the Noble Assembly!”
…shouting some third-rate villain line like that on his way out.
As for me, having been rescued without meaning to be, I tried to offer Claude a careful word of thanks.
“Um, thank you for helping—”
“If you don’t like something, how hard is it to just say so?”
With that single remark, he left without so much as a glance back.
Left holding the bag, I could only stand there, blankly memorizing the lines of his retreating back.
“…Hah.”
And thirty minutes later—now.
Leaning back in my chair, I watched the auction proceed without a hitch and sank into thought.
…If I could just say things like that, would my life have twisted itself into this mess?
Claude’s jab was lodged in my chest like a splinter, refusing to leave.
Why is it that some remarks go right past you when you first hear them, only to rankle more and more the longer you chew on them?
But by now it was far too late to argue the point. That was exactly the sorry state I was in.
And Gale, who said he’d go on ahead to the auction hall, is nowhere to be seen either…
“…Nothing ever goes my way, does it.”
At my muttered sigh, someone beside me flinched, shoulders jumping.
It was Romaine, sitting quietly at my side.
She’d been watching my face all this time, and at last she closed her eyes tightly, as if she could bear it no longer.
“Um, my lady…!”
When I turned to look at her, Romaine’s eyes were brimming with tears.
“You got such a fright earlier. I’m so sorry…”
“Hm? No, I’m fine.”
“But I’ve never seen you wear a look like that before. Your face went white as a sheet, and…”
Now that she’d said it out loud, her guilt seemed to have doubled, and she looked ready to burst into tears at any moment.
…Come to think of it, had I really looked that much of a wreck?
I patted Romaine’s head gently, lost in thought.
This useless body of mine. I’ll have to fix it somehow before I get myself into real trouble.
Burly, older men with muscle to throw around. Every time I ran into one of them, it was the same disaster. As if men like that were anything special.
“I’m sorry. I should have stepped in, but my feet just wouldn’t move…”
“No, it’s fine. Even if you’d been there, he would have clung on just as stubbornly. That’s the kind of man he is.”
“Still, thank goodness Young Master Claude showed up when he did. Something truly awful might have happened.”
“…Yes, it might have.”
I nodded.
There was no denying that I’d been helped.
But was it really acceptable for him to behave so high-handedly? That was the man in question a marquis, after all.
Just then, Romaine added a quiet explanation.
“Young Master Claude’s position is rather unusual, you see. Since he’s headed back to the Western Territory eventually anyway, he says he couldn’t care less about his standing in high society.”
Ah. So that was it.
In that case, it was nothing short of a blessing.
For someone like me, forever watching the eyes of society, he had tied off a knot I wouldn’t have dared so much as touch.
Which meant I ought to repay him someday with a cup of tea as a token of thanks…
…though I suspect the one receiving it would hate that even more.
Watching Claude in the very front row, using one of the auction paddles as a back-scratcher to thump idly at his own spine, I gave a small nod.
Right. Best not to poke the beast and make a scab worse. Mm.
“By the way, my lady.”
“Hm?”
“That man from earlier—the one with the gray hair—”
At that very moment, Gale’s silhouette swept past through the half-open gap of the auction hall door.
“…W-wait just a moment!”
I shot up from my seat like a spring and hurried after him.
But by the time I set foot in the exhibition hall once more, Gale’s figure had already dissolved like smoke, leaving nothing behind.
Where did he go?
Like someone who’d just seen a mirage, I stood frozen where I was.
In that silent exhibition hall, stripped bare of every painting, the only sound left was the dry ticking of a clock, echoing through the emptiness.