Chapter 48
When Isaac visited Monica's house for the first time in a while, he repeatedly clenched and unclenched his hands as he looked up at it. Even through his gloves, his fingertips were cold. He was nervous.
Isaac could do almost anything better than the average person, so it was rare for tension to make his movements stiff.
...And yet, he was terribly nervous now.
(Will I be able to interact with Monica as I always have?)
What kept crossing his mind was what had happened at the party hosted by the Star-Seer Witch.
When Monica had shown bashfulness around Cyril, she had looked like a girl in love.
(...Has she realized her feelings?)
If she had, Isaac wouldn't stand a chance.
Because Isaac knew how Cyril felt about Monica.
The moment either of them realized their feelings, this strange relationship, balanced on a razor's edge, would surely collapse.
To make matters worse, Isaac didn't dislike Cyril.
(I find myself wishing Cyril were an awful person... I'm the worst.)
Isaac awkwardly raised his hand and knocked on the door. There was no answer.
Using the spare key he had carefully made when he became Monica's apprentice, Isaac opened the door and went inside.
There was no sign of anyone inside. Apparently, Monica was out.
(If she's out at this hour... maybe she's gone to have lunch with Miss Collet?)
Isaac quickly put away his belongings, then lit the fireplace.
The weather was fine today, but it was a little chilly, so he wanted to make sure Monica wouldn't be cold when she came home. Monica was rather sensitive to the cold.
Perhaps he should prepare a warm drink for his chilly little squirrel.
As Isaac prepared lemonade in the kitchen, the front door opened. Monica had returned.
Isaac pasted his usual smile onto his tense face and poked his head out of the kitchen.
"Hey, welcome home, Monica."
There was no reply.
The fear that he had been ignored made Isaac's heart give an unpleasant creak.
But when he looked more closely, it seemed less that Monica had ignored him and more that she simply hadn't noticed Isaac at all.
With a look of desperation, Monica flailed her arms and legs as she ran up the stairs.
Then, just as suddenly, she came thundering back down, carrying the basket with Nero sleeping in it.
Monica looked frighteningly intense. To put it mildly, she was unapproachable.
As Isaac watched, wondering what on earth she intended to do, Monica set Nero's basket in front of the fireplace and began throwing logs into the fire.
Not content with that, she used silent magic to kindle several small flames and arranged them in a circle around Nero's basket.
The scene could almost have been mistaken for a mysterious ritual with a black cat as its sacrifice.
(My master is in quite a state.)
For now, Isaac calmly opened a window. Ventilation was important.
Monica still wore that intense expression as she shook Nero awake in his basket.
"Nero, wake up... Nero... Nero..."
Apparently, this was a ritual to awaken the hibernating black dragon.
Nero let out sleepy little meows, but eventually, as though he had given in, he sleepily lifted one eyelid.
"Mmm... Has spring arrived...?"
As Nero rubbed his face with a forepaw, Monica lifted him up to eye level.
Meeting his gaze, she questioned him in a low voice.
"Nero. Did you meet Lana? When?"
"Mmm~ Ah, Lana's a good one. She brought me some food..."
"...When was that?"
"When you went to take care of the beans at Chilly Big Brother's place..."
"That long ago!?"
Even as Monica cried out in dismay, Nero continued to yawn leisurely.
"Nyaaah... Apparently Lana's going to feed yours truly some tasty chicken... Mrr... I'm still sleepy, so wake me up in about another month..."
"Wait, Nero, don't go to sleep! What else did you talk about with Lana? Hey! Nero...!"
Monica shook Nero violently, but he simply drifted off into a comfortable sleep.
Monica held Nero against her chest and hung her head in despair.
"Nerooooo... Oh, come oooooon..."
"This seems to have turned into quite a situation."
When Isaac spoke to her, Monica looked up at him in a panic while still holding Nero against her chest.
"Ah, Ike, welcome home."
"Yeah, I'm home. So, did something happen between Miss Collet and Nero?"
At Isaac's words, Monica went pale and nodded repeatedly.
She returned Nero to his basket, then turned to face Isaac squarely and began speaking with a serious expression.
"I once borrowed a romance novel from Isabelle-sama."
"............Hm?"
Isaac was bewildered by the sudden mention of a romance novel, a phrase so unlike Monica.
Monica spoke to him with utmost seriousness.
"In romance novels, the heroine blushes rose-red and gazes dreamily at the prince while calling him 'wonderful.' In other words, blushing and calling someone 'wonderful' means that you're in love with them. That's the formula."
She wasn't wrong, but something about it felt off.
Before Isaac could point out the flaw in that logic, Monica clenched her fists and continued emphatically.
"Earlier, Lana called Nero 'wonderful'! And she was blushing, and looked a little dreamy... So by that formula, Lana is in love with Nero...!"
Isaac gently took both of Monica's fists in his hands and spoke in a syrupy-sweet voice.
"My master, who cares so much about her friends, is simply wonderful."
"...? Thank you. But, um, this isn't about me. It's about Lana. Nero said he 'can't get aroused by a female without a tail,' so what am I supposed to doooo...?"
"............"
Apparently, she hadn't blushed deeply enough or looked dreamy enough.
(Leaving that aside, Miss Collet and Nero...? ...Hmm.)
He couldn't rule it out, but it felt more like Monica had jumped to conclusions.
But Monica was genuinely suffering, caught between her friend's romantic feelings and her familiar's true identity.
(What should I do...?)
First, he needed to confirm the facts. Isaac stood and gestured Monica toward a chair.
"Monica, sit down for now. Why don't you have some warm lemonade? I'm sure it'll help you calm down."
"Sniff... sniff... What should I do...? I want to support Lana... but Nero..."
"Well, from what you've told me, it isn't certain that Miss Collet has fallen in love with Nero yet."
Isaac's words made Monica look like a student who had just been told that her answer was wrong.
"...It hasn't?"
"I wasn't there, so I can't say for certain... What exactly did Miss Collet say?"
"Um... 'He was so wonderful, I want to meet him and talk to him'..."
Isaac privately thought that it was a rather delicate matter.
Isaac didn't know Lana Collet as well as Monica did, but she struck him as the type to be more interested in the clothes and accessories worn by men than in men themselves.
It seemed more reasonable to assume that she was interested in something associated with Nero rather than Nero himself.
"Monica, why don't you wait until another day and talk to Miss Collet again? Whatever Miss Collet's true feelings may be, Nero is hibernating right now."
"Y-yes, you're right... I panicked and interrogated Nero, but... I'll talk to Lana again."
Monica finally seemed relieved. She let her shoulders droop, then smiled weakly.
"I'm glad you were here, Ike. You're so reliable, as always."
"I'm honored that you rely on me."
As Isaac smiled, Monica looked at him with admiration.
"Ike, you're an expert when it comes to romance. You're amazing."
"............"
──You're the one person even a romance expert like me can't easily win over.
The thought went unspoken as Isaac gave a wry smile.
＊ ＊ ＊
"What on earth was Monica so frantic about?"
As Lana gazed in the direction Monica had run off, she tilted her head in puzzlement.
Perhaps Monica had sensed how anxious Lana was and hurried off to get in touch with Bartholomew Alexander.
(Does Bartholomew-san always stay at Monica's house? Or does he usually live somewhere else? Hmm, if he's in the country, we might just barely have time to get in touch with him now.)
As Lana considered the arrangements for inviting Mr. Bartholomew, Clifford stared fixedly down at her.
"Who is Bartholomew Alexander?"
"I'm not telling you, Cliff."
In retaliation for frightening Monica, Lana replied primly, and Clifford fell silent.
"More importantly, I'm going to take a new design proposal to Pollock-san now! Cliff, hold down the fort! See you!"
With that, Lana twirled her skirt hem and headed for Pollock's workshop.
Clifford stared intently at Lana's back, his gray eyes visible behind his glasses.