“What are you doing?”

“Hmm.”

It was Duke Escra.

Instead of answering, he quickly skimmed the contents of the invitation. His brow twitched as he read.

“Looks like you don’t want to go.”

“Give it back.”

“If you don’t want to go, then don’t.”

“How am I supposed to refuse His Majesty’s invitation?”

“I do.”

“...What?”

“Yesterday, the Emperor asked me to eat with him, and I told him I was busy.”

Watching Duke Escra give her that haughty look like it was no big deal, Camilla let out a short sigh.

Sure. Must be nice.

That’s only possible because it’s you!

If some insignificant noble young lady refused the Emperor’s invitation, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say she’d be buried alive in high society on the spot.

After clicking her tongue a few times, Camilla decided to ask something she’d been quietly curious about anyway, now that she was looking at Duke Escra’s face.

“Why are you still here?”

“Because I have nowhere to go.”

“What do you mean you have nowhere to go? You have a home! You should go back to it.”

“You’re not there.”

“Jesus.”

Why would you say that here?

Camilla stared at him with a dumbfounded look for a moment, then pressed her fingers to her throbbing forehead.

“Excuse me.”

Back there, you weren’t even constantly calling me daughter. You acted like you didn’t care whether I went or not. So why are you suddenly acting like this now?

“Why do you keep trying to take me?”

“Why are you trying to keep staying here?”

“Because this is my home.”

“That place is your home, too.”

Camilla’s words caught in her throat. Duke Escra’s gaze was so serious she flinched.

Was he really saying that sincerely?

“If you come with me, you won’t have to receive invitations like this.”

He fluttered the invitation in his hand.

“So?”

“What?”

“If you want, I can tear this invitation up right now.”

He flicked it back and forth in front of her eyes again, wearing that infuriating smile.

“What are you doing right now?”

“Trying to seduce you.”

Camilla snatched the invitation out of his hand.

“Stop sticking your nose into my business and just go home.”

“I heard there’s a good café near here.”

He wasn’t even listening.

Camilla glared at him as he kept spouting nonsense, then turned her eyes away too and stopped engaging.

*****

“So the ‘good café’ is here?”

“You seem to lack pride in your own shop.”

The next day, when Camilla stopped by the café, she had to face Duke Escra, who’d claimed a seat right by the window like he owned the place.

She’d seen him leave the estate the moment breakfast ended and thought he had some urgent appointment, but—

“These desserts are really good.”

Across from Duke Escra, Count Alton was there too, waving cheerfully at Camilla.

“This is made from those black beans?”

“To think that fruit could be used like this. It’s truly astonishing. I’ve seen some people use it as an air freshener from time to time, but still.”

The table the two men sat at was packed with desserts where coffee was the main ingredient.

“The flavor is very alluring.”

Count Alton seemed to like the taste of coffee a lot too. He held his iced Americano with both hands and drank it down in long gulps.

“Lord Kais, you like it too, right? You don’t like sweet things. This drink was made for you.”

“Well. Yeah.”

At Count Alton’s words, Duke Escra casually lifted his cup and took a sip, then quietly set it back down again. His expression stayed indifferent as ever.

Watching all of that from the side, Camilla let out a short sigh in her head and headed for the counter.

“One iced latte. Make it very sweet.”

“Yes, just a moment.”

Cup in hand, Camilla carried it over herself and set it down in front of Duke Escra.

“What’s this?”

“Drink it.”

“I already have a drink.”

“This one is very sweet.”

“...Sweet?”

“Oh, Lady Camilla, like I said earlier, Lord Kais doesn’t really like sweet things.”

“Is that so?”

Camilla lifted the latte like she hadn’t known.

But a hand snatched it faster than hers—Duke Escra’s.

“I hate sweet things, but I’ll drink it for the sake of the effort you put into bringing it.”

“I didn’t make it, and if you don’t like it, you don’t have to drink it.”

“Then I’ll drink it—”

Count Alton jumped in, even raising his hand. The coffee mixed with rich milk looked delicious at a glance.

“...I’ll just drink this.”

But the cold look Duke Escra shot him made him quietly lower his hand again.

While that was happening, Camilla tried to take the latte back. But Duke Escra didn’t let go easily.

“I said I’ll drink it.”

He tightened his grip like he really didn’t want it taken. Watching him, Camilla smiled to herself.

So it was true.

Back when she’d been in the Gracia Empire, Sharua—who had been Duke Escra’s wife—had once said something to her in passing.

[Did you know?]

What?

[Our duke really loves sweet things.]

The duke?

[I didn’t know until before I died, but when he’s alone, he eats sweet stuff like crazy. He never touches it in front of other people, though.]

Really?

Look at him now. After one sip, he hadn’t even touched his coffee again.

And it wasn’t like he was eating cake or any other sweet dessert, either. He was just staring hard at Count Alton, who was happily munching his cake.

He’s not even a celebrity.

What kind of image management is this?

Camilla’s lips curved when she saw the quick flicker of a smile at the corner of Duke Escra’s mouth after he took a sip of the latte.

“Lord Kais, no matter if Lady Camilla gave it to you, forcing yourself to drink something you dislike isn’t good for you. I’ll just drink it for you—”

“Want to die?”

“Excuse me? N-No, I’m doing this for you—!”

“Shut up.”

Moments like this made it obvious Count Alton really had no sense.

He’d been stuck to his superior for so long. How could he not know his superior’s tastes? Even if he’d hidden it thoroughly.

“Anyway.”

“......?”

“Is that kid your employee, too?”

“Who?”

Camilla turned her head to follow Duke Escra’s gaze, then froze with a dumbfounded expression. What the hell was he doing over there?

SCRUB SCRUB!

Someone was wiping down the big glass window, corner to corner, with a rag. Maybe traces of the paint were still there.

“Habel.”

At her call, he flinched and hurriedly dropped the rag to the floor.

It was Reaper Habel.

*****

“Guess a reaper’s pay is stingy?”

“.......”

“Want a salary? You want a job here?”

“No.”

Camilla giggled at Habel’s glare. She was honestly curious what he’d done before he became a reaper.

“I heard you were looking for me.”

“I was.”

“Why?”

“Before that, can I ask you one thing?”

“...What?”

“I’m genuinely curious—does Dorman have something on you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re way too obedient.”

She’d heard he contacted Habel this morning.

But less than a day later, here he was, coming to find her, and it was hard not to be amazed.

Even normally, Habel never argued with anything Dorman said. She’d always found it strange.

Why does he follow someone who got kicked out like that?

Maybe Dorman had been his superior in the past, but now he wasn’t. Unless he had leverage, «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» how could it be like this?

“Nothing like that.”

Habel furrowed his brow like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Just tell me why you called.”

“I saw another person whose body was stolen.”

“Where?”

“At the Imperial Palace.”

“...The Imperial Palace?”

He paused, then—unlike himself—let out a short sigh.

“The Emperor of Fable. Is that who it was?”

This time Camilla froze at his words.

“You knew?”

Camilla’s eyes widened slightly. From Habel’s reaction, it looked like he already knew about the Emperor of Fable’s grotesque state, too.

“Not just me. Every reaper knows his existence.”

“What?”

It was an unexpected answer. All reapers knew? Then why were they just leaving it alone?

When he’d saved her from that basement before, hadn’t he yanked the soul right out of the one who’d taken the body of Water Ghost Beth’s son?

“Why are you just letting it be?”

If the reapers didn’t know what was happening, she could understand it. But if they already knew and were just watching, that was wrong.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what?”

“His name.”

“...What?”

“No one knows that man’s True Name.”