Chapter 60
Gabriel sent an urgent dispatch. Even as knight commander, making a knight deliver a letter? Impressive.
Raphaella looked utterly exhausted from how fast she'd ridden. No, she must've ridden the horse hard. For the record, the horse she came on was one Melek had sweet-talked and stabled. He's a cow beastkin—why's he closer to horses?
"Huff, huff…."
"Sir Raphaella, have some water."
"Thank you, thank you."
Hena handed her water, and Raphaella gulped it down. Wow, she makes drinking water look so tasty—could do mukbang.
While Raphaella caught her breath, I finished reading Gabriel's letter. Worried after our awkward parting last time, but him checking like this means he really likes me. Whew, finally relieved.
I handed the read letter back to Raphaella. Too scary to keep—handle it yourself.
"Is Archbishop Marik dangerous?"
"Very kind to the faithful, but naturally dangerous to you, my lady."
Exorcist maybe? If she finds out I'm possessed, she'll label it 'exorcism' but mean torture? Gotta be careful. Exposed as possessor, I'm done. Gabriel wasn't overreacting. But from the letter… am I in big trouble?
"And she's my chaperone?"
"Not confirmed yet. There's still Marchioness Toten…."
"Crown prince's birthday is in two days. Think we'll hear from her by then?"
Raphaella must not have ghosted before. Life senior tip, Raphaella: lovers or teams, ghosters never return. That's ghosting.
"Or my mother. As a duchess, even Archbishop Marik couldn't touch her."
"Didn't you cut ties?"
"No! Just words—she worries about me deeply. I'll grovel at her feet begging to chaperone you!"
Raphaella cried desperately. Worried for me? She has some loyalty. Kinda touched.
"And seems we're under surveillance."
What? Not in the letter. Stalking due to rumors? But I never leave home—how to surveil?
Jelly, picking grapes behind, replied flatly.
"Ah, that guy lurking near the mansion? Dealt with already."
Dealt with? Jelly, you've been patrolling secretly as a dark hero? I nagged thinking you just loafed!
"What if you do that? No eyes on the mansion makes us more suspicious!"
Guess I was wrong. Right to nag. Raphaella yelled without knowing who, then awkwardly eyed Jelly.
"My lady… who's that?"
First time meeting?
"Me? Jelly."
"I asked the lady."
Subtle rivalry ensued. Whoa, realized competing for Daisy? Daisy likes Raphaella now, so side with her.
"Jelly's… my dog?"
Whoops. Explaining no Daisy link, slipped to just 'dog.' Beastkin discrimination incoming.
"Ah, like a dog I boss around."
Added quick. But sounds like evil boss? Raphaella flicked her ears like hearing nonsense. Sorry, my bad.
Jelly wagged tail meekly despite 'dog.' Illusion? Human form, must've misseen.
No. Tail sprouted from Jelly. Ears too. Ears perked atop head; my hand twitched instinctively. Not misseen earlier! Hides usually—why now?
Luckily Raphaella flicked her own ears, unseen. Hide it! Hurry! Gesturing wildly, Jelly retracted.
"What're you doing?"
"Ah, this? Owner likes it, right?"
"I like that?"
What nonsense? Why would I?
"Yeah. Why else dote on Pu… Pudding?"
Aha. Not tastes—prefers animals. Jelly competes with Pudding, calls me owner. Compare fairly? Pudding's young—obviously dote more.
About to scold maturity, Raphaella eyed Jelly awkwardly. Saw ears/tail? Voice softened unusually.
"Um…."
"Calling me?"
"Report unfair pressure."
"What?"
What? Unfair pressure? Thinks I'm pervert beastkin collector? Rumors add another line. How to deny? 'Don't like beastkin'? Suspicious! Hiding tastes seems more pervert!
Jelly baffled then burst laughing.
"You're hilarious. Reporting the owner?"
Not owner! Never called me that—don't spark suspicion!
"Who'd catch her if I report?"
Jelly giggled, ate grapes. Tossed to Pudding playfully. Our haughty Pudding caught, hurled back at Jelly's face.
Hit by fruit from cat, Jelly laughed harder. How's that abused worker? Looks like lucky bum to me. Glaring, Raphaella averted eyes.
"Haha. Joke, right?"
No? Protecting your Daisy romance—why evil boss? Glaring, Raphaella grabbed bags flustered.
"Then I'll visit Mother just in case."
Raphaella bolted. Where to?
"No need."
"Pardon?"
Realistically, sudden begging won't work.
Me too—if son who cut ties returns after years, begging abbess girlfriend's chaperone—kick out annoyed. Duke too—give up.
"Does Archbishop Marik usually chaperone strangers gladly?"
"No. Kind but firm boundaries. Won't accept requests."
Her stepping up means suspects me highly. Evangeline rumors too vicious for civilian—fits possession.
"If Marchioness Toten doesn't come, accept Archbishop Marik."
"But she's dangerous…."
"Desperate refusal looks more suspicious."
Any genre, fleeing draws pursuit. Hide/avoid clings more.
Dig everywhere, harass investigations, block—headache. Bet my hair strand: Marik too. Better face frontally?
Plus, not past me! Acting sucks exposed possession everywhere—over. Not just etiquette/dance. Introducing: Dolliné's finesse, Daisy's memories—new 'Evangeline'!
Confident fool Count Rohanson now. Sudden lunch invite banquet day—test then. Banquet day fasting norm? No consideration. Explains daughter villain or possessed—still neglects.
"Please let Marchioness Toten come…."
Damn kid. Raphaella displeased with me. Or Marik scary. Won't beat with world tree branch, right? Scary though.
Tried dignified, but seeing Raphaella, hoped Toten too. But push sick kid's mom? Shameless. Should've told Raphaella reconcile with cut-off mom. Raphaella eyed me teary-eyed.
"No contact yet? Won't come?"
Terrorized Raphaella sparked mischief.
"Bet?"
"Pardon?"
Predictably, Raphaella furrowed brows at nonsense.
"I bet she comes."
Raphaella puzzled. Me, sure no-show, betting yes?
"Won't? Kid's sick."
"Who knows. Situations change."
Tsk. Rookies. Reverse bet in gambles? Thrill's the point.
Real motive: hate world tree branch beating! Please come!
