“I can’t very well explain the circumstances, either. I’ll be sent before the inquisitors.” Octavia had checked the dusty furniture and Heirlooms in the basement one by one, and she’d had Hat register them, so all of the Heirlooms stored in the mansion were safe. Octavia could only do this because of who she was. To any other person, unable to communicate with Hat, this would have been impossible. And this matter was a secret that could not be found out in this kingdom, ruled by a queen who did not recognize the liberty of any successor to the imperial throne. In order to live confidently while holding that secret, Octavia had become a detective in the Royal Capital.
“But I wonder what all that about an assistant was?”
“Just leave con men like that alone. Don’t get involved,” spat Hat.
Octavia took the can of tea leaves she had been looking for off the kitchen shelf and frowned. She said, “Don’t tell me that by ‘assistant,’ she means Raven?”
“Don’t know. We are talking about a typical piece of aristocratic scum, who doesn’t even have a job.”
“The man himself said he was working as an art dealer or an antique dealer.”
“He probably meant to say con man.”
“I’m interested to know myself whether or not he’s a con man, but if people are spreading rumors about him, that’s a problem.” Octavia rummaged through the cabinet in search of a teacup and sighed. “We aren’t prosperous enough to hire an assistant. On the contrary, we’re quickly running out of money to live on.”
She had put a sign up for her detective agency the very moment she had arrived at the Royal Capital, and yet she still hadn’t received a single job request. As a result, she had nothing to do besides clean the mansion, and now the floors all sparkled. Wondering if Hat could provide some useful wisdom, she looked up at the ceiling and groaned.
“That has been our problem recently. I suppose humans do require more than just shelter from the elements...”
“If things carry on like this, we’ll go out of business.”
“If we’ve never had a proper job request, is it really correct to say ‘go out of business’?”
Octavia held up the letter from her half sister. “Failing that, I suppose there is marriage...as long as it’s not my family looking for a candidate.”
“Any proposal of marriage that lot brings can’t be any good,” asserted Hat. “I’m opposed!”
“Don’t worry. I made a promise to my grandmother. I won’t be fooled by any bad men.”
“Frankly, I wonder about that as well!”
“Besides, if I get married now, then I won’t be able to go after the Imperial Heirlooms. It also might require wedding preparations and a dowry. Regardless of whether I get married or continue my detective work, in the end, the one thing that matters in this world is money,” Octavia quietly declared.
In response, Hat backed up slightly. “You know, for a lout, once in a while you speak the truth.”
“It would all be fine if we had some sort of job, though. Hmmm.” Octavia opened up a newspaper that was lying nearby. She had used some of her paltry funds to subscribe to the paper, citing the need to gather information. Besides, newspapers could also be used to wrap things; they could be burned as fuel or used to wipe windows, too. You could even take a look at the classifieds page.
“Here, a lost kitty cat. That sounds like it’s up our alley. Oh, here’s another one, looking for a lost doll.”
“A cat is one thing, but a doll? Doesn’t that sound suspicious? Plus, the reward offered is ten times higher. Did they make some kind of mistake?”
“I’d like to at least make an inquiry, or otherwise hire someone else to do it,” she sighed, “but as for someone to hire, I really don’t have anyone besides Raven.”
“That fellow is no good. He’s the sort who’d squeeze all the blood out of you, then move on to the marrow in your bones!”
“Octavia, help me!” someone cried.
“Wha?!” Octavia raised her voice in unison with Hat and quickly turned around. A young man, out of breath, was standing in the kitchen doorway. “H-How did you get in here?”
“That isn’t important right now.”
“No, it really is,” Hat butted in, quite rightly. “The front door was definitely locked!” Of course, only Octavia could hear Hat’s voice.
The young man walked over briskly and took Octavia’s hands firmly in his.
“Raven, what on earth’s the matter?” Octavia, her hands seized by Raven, looked quizzically at him.
His demeanor was different from usual. Today, he was once again wearing a well cut frock coat, matched fashionably with a parrot-green tie. Perhaps owing to his considerable hurry, however, his agate tie-pin was bent slightly; and, more than anything, the expression on his face was desperate.
“Won’t you please marry me?”
He spoke these words so suddenly that Octavia could only stare blankly.
“Huh?”
“For the sake of argument, I want you to become my lover.”
“Huh?”
“What is this damned fool saying?” Even Hat, who would normally have had a great deal to say about a joke like this, was at a loss for words.
Raven, showing little concern for Octavia’s unfavorable reaction, groaned in anguish.
“If you don’t, I will be forced to marry a little girl in a bid for the peerage!”
A little girl, wondered Octavia. Does that mean a girl whose age is only one digit?
“For the nobility, marrying a girl about a decade younger is, well,” she mused, “not unusual, is it?”
“The only one I feel sorry for is the little girl. Well, congratulations,” muttered Hat. “Never darken our door again.”
“Your reaction is even more curt than I anticipated. But you must know—I believe in marrying for love.”
Octavia’s eyes widened. This young man, who looked like someone had put a suit of clothes on the concept of frivolity, had just said he believed in marrying for love.
At the same time as she widened her eyes, Raven narrowed his.
“You’re thinking that doesn’t suit me, right? You’re thinking, ‘You, of all people.’”
“N-No, not at all. At any rate, I’ll listen to what you have to say. Now calm down.”
Octavia was no good at lying. As if chiding her for her poor attempt at deception, the kettle on the stove whistled with perfect timing.
In the drawing room, which Octavia had now finished cleaning, there were biscuits and tea with milk. Raven had prepared both. This skilled young man even knew how to prepare tea.
Looking at it from a different angle, perhaps he simply knew that sweets would be effective in reeling in Octavia, whose demeanor toward him so far had been lukewarm.
Since childhood, Octavia had always had a weakness for sweets. In the hopes of receiving the chocolate fudge that her grandmother had sometimes produced from her pocket, she had often helped her grandmother with tasks, or made great efforts in studying subjects she didn’t like.
She couldn’t remember telling Raven this, but the biscuits in front of her were filled with cream, and the tea he’d prepared for her was heavy with milk and sugar. He had to know; she could think of no other explanation.
Am I really that easy to understand?
It had only been about a month since they’d met. Raven had visited the mansion at least once every two days, but how and when had he seen through her?
If she refused to acknowledge it, she might still be safe.
What exactly am I fighting against, she sighed internally. Still, she had a feeling that it wouldn’t do for Raven to see through her in any way. Stiffening her face, which had started to break into a smile, she broke the ice. “Now, then, what are you so worked up about? As you are a marquis, a strategic marriage is surely only natural.”
“Even to a little girl?
“I do think that part is dreadful, but I am sure someone like you can manage to find a way out of it.”
“For now, I’ll take that as a compliment.”
The most unusual thing about the present situation was that a marquis like Raven didn’t have a fiancée or a lover already. When Octavia pointed this out, Raven puffed out his cheeks in discontent. Raven was already twenty—older than Octavia—and yet he could be so strangely childish.
“I do still believe in marrying for love, even if you don’t seem to believe me.”
“Let’s put that aside. You’ve surely had offers of engagement before now?”
“This time is different. I’m being threatened.”