Chapter 41
The owner of the laughter was Rafaella.
“Puhahaha!!”
Rafaella burst into loud laughter, just like Chelsea had mocked Rosalie earlier. She slapped her palm against her knee, threw her head back until her uvula showed, and laughed as loudly as she could—deliberately provocative.
Naturally, Chelsea’s face flushed red and then blue.
“You! Don’t tell me you’re laughing after hearing my introduction?”
“Then what, you think I just started laughing by myself? I’m not a crazy bitch like you.”
“Crazy… what? You little—!”
“So what. Want to hit me?”
Seeing Rafaella taunt her with a face still rippling with laughter, Chelsea felt the last shred of her reason snap with a dry crack in her head.
Unable to hold back, Chelsea stomped toward the table where Rafaella was sitting. Is this freckled fat girl out of her mind or what?
“Are you sane? You laughed even after knowing who I am?”
“Yeah. It was funny—how you use being a priest’s daughter like it’s some amazing title.”
“So you’re saying you laughed even after hearing my father is the only bishop of the main temple here? Don’t even dream of getting a prayer when you—or anyone in your family—gets sick!”
“Oh dear. How scary. For the daughter of someone who serves the gods to threaten people so casually.”
“You! Youuu!! Not just Sester—anywhere in this empire, you won’t get a single line of healing prayer! I’ll tell my father and have your whole family banned from the temple!”
“Wow? Really? Everyone in your family? I’m looking forward to that. Please, please do it. Just imagining it is hilarious. Puhut.”
“Ugh! Stop joking around!”
Finally losing all restraint, Chelsea raised her hand high.
Unless she slapped Rafaella’s infuriating face with all her strength, it felt like she would explode from frustration.
Startled, Rosalie hurried to stop Chelsea, but though she was strong, she wasn’t quick on her feet, and the distance was far too great.
Just then, something colorful went whoosh—sliding right between Rafaella and Chelsea.
There was a clinking sound as jewels collided, and in the next moment Chelsea found herself arched backward, staring up at the ceiling.
“…?!”
Filling Chelsea’s vision as she failed to grasp the situation was a glittering head of blond hair and the beautiful face of a man. At some point his silver-rimmed glasses had been removed and now hung from his neck like a pendant.
The jewel-draped man had wrapped one arm around Chelsea’s raised hand and the other around her waist, dipping her smoothly backward like a dance move.
“My, my. Pretty young lady. Are you all right?”
“Huh? Ah… y-yes?”
When ruby-red eyes gazed at her deeply and asked, Chelsea could only open and close her mouth without sound. The jewel-draped man curved his eyes slightly and smiled seductively.
“Your lovely palm almost got hurt just now.”
With practiced ease, he brought Chelsea back upright, then spun her around once, rhythmically, like a dancer. Then he lightly kissed the back of her hand.
“Such a beautiful hand shouldn’t be used for rough things, my lady.”
Small gasps and squeals rose from all around the shop.
Chelsea was no exception.
The fighting spirit that had been blazing moments ago vanished without a trace, replaced by pure fluttering excitement on the face of an ordinary girl, her ears burning red. She looked as though she couldn’t believe something straight out of a romance novel had just happened to her.
“Oh? And there’s another young lady shining like a jewel over here. May I have the honor of knowing your name?”
“Ah—oh my. I’m Calle—”
With an utterly natural flow, the jewel-draped man escorted Chelsea and Lady Calle with both hands, chatting lightly as he glided out of the shop with them.
“H-huh…?”
Rosalie, left behind with nowhere for her anger to go, could only stare blankly at the door.
“Well now. That guy’s something else.”
Rafaella was laughing again, clearly amused—though the corner of her mouth was twisted slightly.
Less than a minute later, the jewel-draped man returned to the shop. Without hesitation, he headed straight for Rafaella’s table.
He wore a bright, open expression, as if greeting an old friend after a long time.
“Whew. Were my little chicks startled?”
Rosalie, who had been standing there dazed, flinched and hurried to hide behind Rafaella, peeking out over her shoulder.
“W-who are you?”
“Oh dear. I’m sorry for scaring my little chick. I just wanted to help… I’m not a bad person. Really……”
Just like when he couldn’t buy cookies earlier, the jewel-draped man lowered his gaze with a pitiful expression. Pale gold eyelashes cast shadows, deepening his forlorn air.
Soft-hearted Rosalie felt guilty, thinking her defensive reaction had hurt him. She shuffled out from behind Rafaella.
“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t think you were a bad person.”
“Really?”
The jewel-draped man instantly snapped his head up, delighted, and continued smoothly.
“I’m Leo. What’s the pink little chick’s name?”
“I-I’m Rosalie.”
“Your name is as pretty as your face. It suits you perfectly—like a delicate pink rose blooming in a garden.”
“O-oh, um. P-please don’t say such embarrassing things……”
“I mean it. Pink little chick, you’ll grow into a truly beautiful woman someday. Of course, you’re already adorable.”
“Oh, goodness….”
Rosalie waved her hands, but her cheeks flushed slightly, her tone softer and gentler than before.
Rafaella, meanwhile, watched Leo with clear interest—more precisely, she was scanning the jewels he wore from head to toe. Her gaze lingered especially on the red bracelet on his wrist.
“Hmm~ Then what’s the silver little chick’s name?”
When Leo’s sparkling gaze turned to Rafaella, she grinned as usual and said exactly what she pleased.
“You’re a mage.”
At the unexpected answer, Leo’s radiant face froze for a moment, but he quickly replied with easygoing charm.
“Haha. The silver little chick must read a lot of novels. Mages aren’t so common you’d just run into one on the street~”
“True. Though at this point, it hardly feels like a coincidence.”
“Well, I’m not a mage like you hope—but today, I feel like one. Thanks to meeting my little chicks as if by fate.”
Leo spoke gently, smiling sweetly, but Rafaella just snorted.
“Fate, my ass.”
“Huh? Why is my little chick so angry~ I only helped because I was worried you’d get hurt.”
“You didn’t help. You interfered.”
“That lady earlier was a whole head taller than you. The size difference was huge. I can’t just stand by and watch such an unfair fight.”
“So you helped without being asked?”
“Of course~ I’m a gentleman.”
“Because of you, Rosalie and I feel like we stopped halfway through taking a dump. We’ve got nowhere to vent our anger.”
Leo wagged his finger with a hurt expression, replying anxiously.
“Such dirty words don’t suit a cute little chick~ And your mood will improve if you look at my face. Here, take a good look.”
“Oh, please. First of all, real gentlemen don’t talk so casually. You don’t look like a gentleman at all. Are you perhaps extremely confident in yourself?”
“…If you say things like that, I get hurt. I’m sad.”
“Trying to dodge again with that greasy tone? Ugh! If that’s how it’s going to be, just hurry home.”
Once again, Rafaella answered in a way Leo couldn’t predict.
Leo silently studied Rafaella’s relaxed smile. Unlike other women, she didn’t blush at his looks, nor did she fall for his smooth talk.
No—she didn’t merely resist it. She actively dug into the conversation, subtly poking at his nerves. It didn’t seem like a skill honed in just a day or two.
“This is going to take a while. I’ll sit.”
At last, Leo lowered his brilliant smile slightly and took a seat.
Only his smile faded; his handsome face remained unchanged. He seemed aware of the people in the shop still stealing glances at him.
Sitting across from Rafaella, Leo propped his elbow on the table and rested his chin on his hand, gazing at her in an endearing pose. He blinked his eyes innocently, then when their gazes met, curved his eyes and smiled bashfully.
But even Leo’s face-based assault didn’t faze Rafaella. Instead, she crossed her arms and leaned back lazily, as if this were her own living room.
With an intrigued look, Leo spoke.
“So? Are you not even going to tell your name to someone who’s not a gentleman? You’re pretty prickly. I’m a little hurt.”
“Better prickly than slippery like you.”
“You’re really sharp-tongued. I thought you’d lodged blades in your tongue. Getting a name has never been this hard in my life. Ever!”
“Must’ve lived your whole life in a greenhouse. Thank your parents.”
“Little chick… are you really going to be like this?”
Leo’s voice dropped noticeably lower, carrying a distinctly masculine tone.
Someone like Rafaella was new to him—interesting, yes, but also mildly irritating. His main weapon simply didn’t work on her.
At Leo’s sudden change, Rosalie flinched. The oddly sharp tension made her feel as though she’d stepped into a world of adults she shouldn’t be part of. Using the bathroom as an excuse, she quickly left the table.
Rafaella shrugged and said teasingly,
“I won’t tell a gentleman—but I can tell a mage.”
