“Huh?”

A long, uneasy silence fell between Catherine and the intruder, but she lifted her chin as if daring him to defy her.

“You’re not even smiling,” the man said. “You’re overdoing the innocent act, you know.”

The man’s cold gaze shifted oddly. As the silence went on, his eyebrow began to twitch, but his sword remained pressed to Catherine’s throat.

“I must commend your bravery,” he finally said. “Luckily, I’m in a good mood today. I’ll spare your life if you squeal. Now, if you don’t want your brains to decorate the walls, tell me what your goal is.”

Catherine was bewildered to find that, rather than using the silence to reflect on his actions, he was now openly threatening her. Slowly filling with rage, she pushed aside the sword he pressed closer to her neck.

“My goal is to get this damned graffiti off the floor,” she said. “And unlike you, I’ve been in a sour mood today. I don’t know what fantasy world you live in, but I need you to either get out of my house or clean up that mud.”

Saying that, she marched toward the stairs and resumed her mopping, but upon realizing that the man was still inside and would track more footprints, she sighed.

This day has been hard enough without random men appearing in my basement... The man eyed her like a lion sizing up its prey. For whatever reason, he stood in the same place, staring at Catherine and making no move other than to pick up his sword. She was at a loss. It seemed words wouldn’t get through to this cretin. As she was debating what to do, the red light from the circle began to flicker before dying out completely. To make matters worse, the candle blew out as a mysterious breeze swept by. This had to be a joke. Catherine felt like her legs would buckle under her from despair.

“My last candle...”

She had worked so hard to keep it burning. She leaned her back against the wall and slid to the floor. She wanted to throw something. Calm down, Catherine. Breathe. Focus on your breathing. You need to get above ground. It’s too dark down here.

As soon as the light went out, the man’s existence seemed to disappear from her mind as well. It was hard to believe how violent and pessimistic she had become overnight. So this is what poverty could do to a person. Even rising to her feet with the help of the wall was difficult.

If she could make it up the stairs, she could find her bedroom by moonlight. The bed was dirty, but if she flipped the sheets over and slept on those...

“Lemore,” she heard a voice say as she stumbled her way to the door and found the handle. A light entirely different from that of the candle began to fill the basement.

Catherine slowly opened her eyes, which had reflexively shut against the sudden brightness. When her vision adjusted, she could see a silver-haired man indifferently staring down at her.

“I thought you had killed yourself when I heard your breathing stop, but I see you were only having a fit.”

Catherine froze as she came to a realization: this man was a sorcerer.

“My dear Catherine, if you want to live a long, happy life, be sure to stay away from sorcerers, understand? Be a good girl and listen to your mother.”

Almost instinctively, Catherine recalled her mother’s warning when she was a mere five-year-old child. A sphere of light slowly floated around the man. His clothes were worn and faded, but his flawless appearance stood in sharp contrast to his shabby disguise.

“I’m getting tired of asking,” he said. “Stop wasting my time. Tell me your goal before I actually kill you.”

However, good looks would never get that mud off the floor. Exhausted, Catherine began unbuttoning the front of her blouse with disinterest.

“What are you doing?”

She unfastened one button after another, but the man seemed unamused by whatever antics she was up to. Instead, his eyebrow began to twitch as if he was annoyed. Once her blouse was halfway open, Catherine reached into her bodice and produced the house contract she had tucked away there.

“Look,” she said quietly. “My name is Catherine Panya, and this is proof that I own this house. The land, the buildings, this basement, even the sky above us, all belong to me. Do you realize how foolish you are for trespassing, posing as the owner, and threatening me? If you’re a little slow, I can repeat all that for you.”

She immediately folded up the contract and stuffed it back into her bodice for fear the suspicious intruder would ignite it with magic or whatever else he was capable of.

“Catherine Panya?”

“Yes.”

“You bought this land?”

“Yep.”

“And this house?”

“I sure did.”

The face of the stern, silent man suddenly crumpled. He rubbed his forehead as if finally comprehending the situation. Catherine chose this moment to click her tongue.

Hmm... Something about his face does look familiar. He looked like the last great masterpiece of a master artist. It would be impossible to forget such a face, and yet Catherine had difficulty placing it in her memory.

“So... You’re the new owner of this house?”

“Yep.”

At this point, Catherine just wanted this beautiful intruder out of her home. She wouldn’t even force him to clean up the mud if he would simply leave. After a moment, the man began vigorously rubbing his face again.

“Haa, how did this— Let me start by apologizing for my behavior. You also might want to button up your shirt.”

“I would rather you left,” Catherine retorted.

The man’s forehead wrinkled once again, but he nodded and turned his back to her. Feeling relieved that she was finally getting through to him, Catherine stood up straighter, but her eyes turned serious.

“Wait just a moment,” she cried, running after him before he could disappear. The man turned back to look at her, clearly doing his utmost to keep his eyes above her collarbone.

In order to get this gentlemanly sorcerer of an intruder on his way, Catherine spoke quickly.

“I’m all out of candles, so could you possibly leave this light with me?”

In that moment, that was her most ardent wish.

***

The magic light left by the man glowed all day and night without rest. The first night, Catherine was so exhausted that she collapsed into bed and passed out, but the second, the bright light made it difficult to sleep. On the third, she forced the light into the hallway while she slept. Then the next day, she moved it once again down into the basement. She had to put the damn thing underground.

“Just you wait. Once I finish cleaning the manor, I’m going to get rid of you for good,” Catherine said threateningly to the magic circle as she locked the basement until the day she could return to take care of it.

After that day, Catherine’s life was uneventful. When she thought of her life in Orlean, her only regret was that she hadn’t made a bigger fuss upon leaving. Of course, cleaning her new house took up so much of her time that she couldn’t give that much thought, and it began to fade.

“Ahh, this is the life. Living alone is the best. I’m so glad I left that place.”

Catherine was at peace for the first time in her life—at least until teatime came around.

The freshly poured tea in her cup sparkled beautifully. And it ought to look beautiful, considering Catherine had just brewed it herself. The process was like a work of art—the reddish herbal tea flowing from the pot, the teacup held delicately by long fingers, and...

“Am I seeing things?” Catherine murmured.

“The fragrance is delightful.”

Catherine thought she might be hallucinating, but upon hearing the man’s voice, she realized that wasn’t the case. She shook herself and slowly walked into the kitchen. The sunlight reflecting off the man’s hair cast rainbows each time he shifted.

“The temperature is perfect too,” he prattled on. “Were you a maid? I never would’ve guessed.”

“Who are you?” Catherine asked.

“Me?” The man lifted his head from the teacup, looking at Catherine with his vivid cobalt-blue eyes. A smirk warped his perfect face. “To think I’d ever hear such a foolish question. Have you lost your memory in the past few days?”

Her memory? Catherine simultaneously felt as though he was both familiar and an entire stranger. She had to admit that his voice and silhouette seemed familiar, but the man she was thinking of had violet eyes, not blue ones.

As she stared at him, the man cupped his chin in his hand. “Have you actually forgotten? I thought I had a very memorable appearance. I’m not going to lie. This has wounded my pride a bit.”

“No, I haven’t forgotten.”

His finely shaped eyebrows twitched. Now she was certain. His attitude and the way he provoked her were familiar. This man was the intruder who had invaded her home a few days ago. However, his eyes were definitely a different color. Maybe I was mistaken that day.

The eyes of an extraordinary person can often captivate others. This was especially true for lunatics, and in this case, Catherine could understand what had happened. She must have been beguiled by his beauty. At least, that’s how she made sense of it.

The man sipped his tea.

She had already kicked him out, so why had he come barging back in? Catherine found another teacup in the cupboard and sat in a chair far away from him. She poured herself what was left of the tea and breathed in the fragrance. This was her first time trying this tea, and just like the man said, it had a wonderful aroma.

As she took a few sips, the sound of the man’s fingers drumming on the table grew more rapid to the point she couldn’t ignore him any longer. Catherine glared at the man, but he simply looked back at her with nonchalance as he asked, “Not much of a conversationalist then?”

What? Surprised, Catherine answered, “Have you lost your memory in the past few minutes? We’ve been having a conversation.”

“Technically, yes...” Trailing off, the man rubbed his chin. He seemed to be full of contradictions. “Wouldn’t most people in this situation ask, ‘Who are you?’ or ‘What are you doing here?’ or something?”

It seemed he really wanted her to ask him something, so she gave in. She figured she could kindly ask the unknown man why he was invading her home.

“Why did you come back here? Do you really want me to report you for trespassing?”

The man shook his head and scoffed, although his expression remained unchanged. He paused before answering.

“I think you should buy a different house.”