MSS 19

Chapter 19

“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“Just a gut feeling.”
“…You’re not just a fan of Rozena or something?”
“Well, that could be it too.”
“What is that even supposed to mean.”
I glared at Cassian.
“What if Rozena actually committed a crime or something?”
Like she was a school bully at the academy, and that reporter is chasing her to expose it—what then?
“In that case, don’t help her.”
Cassian answered with a lazy smile and uncrossed his legs. He tapped his thigh with his index finger.
“To get close to Miss Rozena, you’d need tickets to the Opera Cernier’s performance, and those are completely sold out….”
He continued in a teasing tone.
“Do you need my help, Saintess of Magic?”
“Shut it.”
I already have that ticket, you know?
I took out the ticket I’d been keeping carefully in my inner pocket so I wouldn’t lose it and shook it at him.
Cassian’s eyes widened, as if he wasn’t expecting that.
“How?”
“With the ability you love to look down on.”
It was given to me by Madam Oblonsky, the new owner of this boutique.
Not long ago, she personally brought in a foreign client, and I handled everything perfectly.
The foreign client had trouble because no other boutique could communicate with them, but conveniently—there’s a Seraphina here who’s fluent in foreign languages, takes perfect measurements, and even brews the perfect tea while they wait!
I sold them a white fur coat with a lined interior, plus a matching fur hat, and in return, what drops into my hand? A ticket to the opening performance at Opera Cernier.
“And she even gave me two, so I could watch with a friend.”
Originally, I was planning to sell them to someone desperately looking to go, with a nice markup.
But with how things turned out, I guess I’ll have to go myself.
“This is my ticket that I got with my skills, so you’re paying me back the ticket’s value as my operating expense.”
I glared, putting weight behind my warning—he’d better add the ticket cost on top of the success fee I’m getting today from the Ingrid Trading Company.
Cassian, still sitting on the box, nodded with a soft hum.
“Sure.”
Look at that unbothered attitude.
Have I ever mentioned how insufferable Cassian is?
I have? Several times?
Let me say it once more.
He’s insufferable.
“It would’ve been better if I had never figured out who you were. Now that I know, it’s just frustrating.”
“You could’ve just kept not knowing.”
“I hope a year passes quickly so I don’t have to see your face anymore.”
Not your face, not your name—nothing. I’d like to go back to being total strangers. At my remark, Cassian shook his head with a “look at that” expression.
“Unfortunately, I’m the High Priest. It’ll be hard to live your life without hearing my name. You’d have to leave the country.”
“Oh please.”
Why should I?
I jabbed my finger at him.
“You haven’t been attending events or showing your face anywhere anyway, right? You’ve been living like a half-recluse. Just keep living like that.”
Quiet as a mouse.
Somewhere far from my sight.
“I’m going to live loudly and flamboyantly, so I wish you’d live quietly.”
“Usually, in that sort of situation, the person says they will live quietly, you know?”
“That’s impossible.”
I’m going to make lots of money, spend it like crazy, and live a loud, flashy life.
I’ll flaunt the wealth I earned through every hardship.
“I’m going to be so rich that I end up on the front page of the newspaper whenever I’m bored. I’ll have a reserved seat at the best restaurant in District 1, live in a house with ancient protective wards, and ride an open-top carriage that goes BWAAAAANG every time it moves, racing through Loire City.”
“Pfft!”
“You laughing?”
“No, no.”
“I really hope you earn a lot then. Good luck.”
Cassian encouraged me as he stood.
“Well then, I’ll go prepare to live quietly like a dead mouse, okay?”
He put on gloves over the hand that still had my red handprint on it, then left the storage room.
“See you later-woof!”
Tofu, whose little face peeked out between Cassian’s coat buttons, shouted.
Thunk.
After the door closed and I was alone,
I realized Cassian left without cleaning up the box he knocked over and wrecked.
That jerk!

“He really acts like someone high-ranking!”
So infuriating!
“Oh, God! Why would You give someone like him the position of High Priest?!”
Did You only look at his face?!
Seraphina’s wail echoed from behind the closed storage door.
“Calm down. Even you, with not a shred of piety, are serving as the Saintess of Magic—why shouldn’t I be able to handle being High Priest?”
Cassian even walked back just to respond to her.
“That’s… true!”
“Heh…”
“Cassian, why are you laughing-woof?”
“Ahahahahaha!”
Ascending the stairs again, Cassian burst into laughter.
The screams from upstairs grew louder, but he paid them no mind.
Johan Mendelssohn Handel Beethoven Bach Schubert Mozart Debussy Park-Yeon Strauss III, nestled in his coat, tilted his head.
“But Cassian, why are you teasing Seraphina so much?”
“Because it’s fun.”
She’s so wary, so suspicious, and the moment she thinks I’m shady, she kicks first and asks questions later.
Her reactions come fast—it’s fun.
“Isn’t she hilarious?”
Not even a little.
“You think almost getting kicked is funny-woof?”
Cassian… you masochist…
Johan Mendelssohn Handel Beethoven Bach Schubert Mozart Debussy Park-Yeon Strauss III pulled a disgusted face.
“If you want that, I can kick you anytime, just say the word—woof…”
“Even if you kick me—”
“Are you looking down on my attack power-woof?”
“Nope. But if you’re going to leave a footprint, do it on the back of my hand.”
Cassian wiped the tears from his eyes as he came down to the first floor.
“Oh my, the puppy!”
“Hi puppy!”
The boutique employees greeted Johan Mendelssohn Handel Beethoven Bach Schubert Mozart Debussy Park-Yeon Strauss III, whose face was peeking out from Cassian’s coat.
“Isn’t that Seraphina’s dog?”
“You got friendly with him?”
“He likes sweet potatoes.”
Cassian smiled kindly at each comment as he exited the boutique.
“Ah. Too funny.”
Thinking of the Saintess upstairs, cursing while reorganizing the tea boxes, made him laugh again.
Then Cassian stopped and looked up at the second floor.
“It’s going to get fun from here on.”
She’s the first Saintess of Magic in 950 years, and I wondered if she’d manage since she has no mana or even faith.
“Well, she is definitely funny…”
Is it just me who finds her this funny?
He petted Johan Mendelssohn Handel Beethoven Bach Schubert Mozart Debussy Park-Yeon Strauss III and asked.
Hearing him, Johan (…) III replied,
“Cassian.”
“Yeah?”
“Buy me roasted sweet potatoes.”
“There are no roasted sweet potatoes right now.”
“Grrrr…”
“I’m serious… The roasted-sweet-potato man only works from lunchtime. See? He’s not even here.”
“…….”
“Ask Seraphina to buy you some later.”
Bother her while she’s focused on something—nudge her leg, okay? Cassian instructed.
Johan (…) III stared up at him and said,
“You’re going to get bitten by Seraphina at this rate-woof.”
“Looking forward to it.”

Meanwhile, at the same time.
The imperial capital, Loire. A certain unknown mansion.
Crash!
“The Saintess of Magic!”
A precious crystal glass fell onto a thick carpet and shattered.
Even though the carpet, the table, and the sofa would all have to be removed and cleaned, the man didn’t care.
As if the servants’ labor meant nothing to him.
Crash! Crash!
“How dare she! How dare she!!”
“Please calm down, sir.”
“I refuse!”
She interfered with my plans!
“I underestimated her because she was just some girl!”
Crash!
“The moment she said she’d keep watch, she pulls something like this?!”
In front of the furious “master,” a handsome man with black hair knelt.
Shards of glass dug into his knees, but he didn’t flinch as he bowed his head and spoke.
“Do not worry, sir. I already took care of the Ingrid merchant lord with a staged heart attack. No one will know we were involved in that drug incident.”
“That doesn’t solve everything!”
The losses we suffered!
“And if! The Saintess of Magic interferes again!”
“I will step in personally and make sure she cannot.”
The man raised his head—and his face was shockingly beautiful.
Pitch-black hair like a raven, and red eyes.
A man whose dark features gave off a dangerous vibe.
Pushing back his fallen hair, the handsome man vowed: