59. A Man Whose Specialty Is Being Handsome
That sulky, childlike faceâŠ
I looked at Cayenne with mixed feelings.
Cayenneâthe main hidden villain of the original story.
At night, he was a dangerous, seductive man. But during the day, he was like a completely different person.
[The daytime personality is⊠yeah.]
[A âpureâ soul born of the greed of the high and mighty.]
Last night, Cayenne explained his other self in those words.
[My goal is to kill that guy.]
[Heâs the only stain on my existence.]
âHe asked me to help erase his daytime selfâŠâ
His plan was to get rid of that âstainâ in his life and take full possession of this body.
But I wasnât confident I could ever go along with something so horrifying.
When I let out a quiet sigh, Cayenne tilted his head.
âWhat is it?â
ââŠâŠâ
ââŠâŠyo.â
âPfft.â
âAs I thought, this side of him really is a bit slow.â
His awkward, half-hearted reply made me want to tease him.
Unlike the sharp and seductive Cayenne of the night, the daytime Cayenne had a clumsy side.
âThis Cayenne wears his emotions all over his face.â
When his hair was brushed aside, his tall, strikingly handsome features came through. That smooth, tempting beauty combined with his cautious, innocent expression made for a strange contrast.
âWhy? You like cleaning, donât you? I heard youâre the most enthusiastic when it comes to tidying up among all the servants here.â
âThatâs just because the others are incompetent, yo.â
âReally?â
I held out something Iâd gotten from the head butler in front of Cayenne.
A gift, prepared especially for Cayenne, who worked so earnestly at cleaning.
âA new duster.â
The bristles were extra thick and soft, like they could wipe away any speck of dust with a single touch. A magical dusterâany true cleaning enthusiast would find it hard to resist.
Cayenneâs eyes widened.
Without realizing it, his hand reached out for the dusterâbefore he jerked back in hesitation.
âPut it away.â
He batted it aside with a sharp flick of his hand.
Yet his eyes stayed fixed on it.
âReally? If you want it, I could give it to you.â
âI donât neeââ
Swoosh.
I gently swayed the duster before his eyes.
ââŠâŠ!â
Soft as foxtail grass, silky as spun silk, it waved temptingly.
His red eyes followed the duster left, then right.
When I tilted the duster to the left, his head turned left.
Swoosh.
To the right.
Swoosh.
Left. Right. Left. Right.
Back and forth, his head snapped quickly like a metronome.
âThis is kind of funâŠâ
I was just starting to enjoy myself whenâ
Snatch.
âAh! You stole it.â
Heâd snatched the duster right from my hands.
âStop doing weird things and give it here. Itâs mine.â
With a prim little huff, Cayenne turned his head away and strolled off to the cleaning area.
The duster was clutched carefully in his arms like a treasure.
And the bounce in his steps betrayed just how delighted he was.
ââŠâŠâ
âWell, my lady, it seems his nature isnât all that bad. Please donât be too hard on him,â the butler said, trying to defend him.
I shook my head.
âAs if I could be angry.â
If his nature really had been bad, maybe Iâd feel less troubled.
âBut the Cayenne of the night said he would kill this personalityâŠâ
In the original story, Cayenneâs daytime self never appeared.
âThat must mean his plan succeeds.â
I changed the subject.
âDoes Cayenne get along with the other servants?â
âActually, I do have something to report about that.â
The butler lowered his voice.
âWhat is it?â
âRecently, there have been frequent complaints from the other staff. He often disobeys superiorsâ orders or acts unpredictably.â
ââŠâŠâ
âEspecially during meals. Apparently, heâs interfered with the communal food, and even taken portions meant for others.â
âShouldnât something be done about that?â I asked, concerned.
The butler shook his head.
âThe other stewards and I are mediating appropriately. He still needs time to adjust, my lady.â
That night, after finishing my usual routine, I was preparing for bed.
It was a quiet, late hourâthe only sound was the chirping of crickets.
Knock, knock.
A sound broke through the silenceâsomeone tapping on my window.
I turned my head, and in the darkness, a man revealed himself.
Bathed in faint starlight like a spotlight, he perched on a branch outside my window.
ââŠCayenne.â
He smiled like a demon whoâd come to tempt a soul.
That flawlessly sculpted smile was so breathtakingly beautiful my heart skipped out of rhythm, pounding wildly.
Even knowing he was dangerous, for a moment, I lost myself in his looks.
âBut⊠why is he just staying put?â
The Cayenne I knew wouldnât hesitate to break the window and come in.
As if answering my doubt, he raised a finger to the glass.
â!â
Crackleâ!
A spark flared, a blue barrier blocking him.
He quickly withdrew his hand with a shake of his head.
Thatâs when I realized why he was waiting so patiently like a tame lamb.
âSo the mansionâs defenses really were strengthened. Even the security wards are tougher now.â
I unlatched the window.
Normally, intrusion wards stopped forced entry from outside, but they deactivated temporarily when released from the inside.
âExcuse me,â he murmured.
When I reached out my hand, Cayenne gladly took it.
His warmth transferred directly to my fingertips.
The moment he placed a foot on the windowsillâ
Beepâ Beepâ Beepâ Beepâ!
âHuh?â
A shrill alarm went off, the barrier glowing red.
âAn intruder!â
âAn intruder has appeared!â
Shouts rang out from the guards stationed at the mansion gates.
âProtect the young lady! Move!â
The guard captain pointed straight toward my room.
âTch.â
Cayenneâs smile vanished instantly.
Upon hearing the captainâs urgent report, Icart rushed straight to Roseliaâs room.
âAnother attack? Whoâs behind it?â
âThe identity is still unknown, but the First Guard immediately headed to the young ladyâs quarters.â
Icart shut his eyes tight.
If something had happened to Roselia again⊠he didnât even want to imagine the rest.
He shook his head, forcing out those ominous thoughts.
âLetâs go.â
He hurried down the hall, crossing it at a near run.
When he reached Roseliaâs door, he forgot all composure as a young noble and burst inside.
âRoselia!â
âO-older brotherâŠâ
Roselia greeted him awkwardly.
Thankfully, there were no traces of an attack in the room, and she seemed unharmed.
But the twitch of her lips, forming an unnatural smile, looked suspicious.
âAre you hurt? Anywhere?â
âNo, of course not.â
Icart turned to interrogate the guards.
âWhat happened this time?â
âAt first, we thought an assassin had slipped inâŠâ
âAnd?â
âBut it turns out, it seems a bird triggered the barrier.â
ââŠA bird?â
The guard looked sheepish.
At the end of his gaze, a crow tilted its head on the windowsill.
Roselia jumped in.
âIt looks like the crow bumped into my window. I opened it in surprise, and then the alarm suddenly went off.â
ââŠHuh.â
Icart let out a deflated sigh.
His heart had dropped to his feet thinking Roselia might have been attacked again.
After coming so close to hell, the anticlimax only made him feel more drained.
âAll this⊠over one stupid crow.â
Since the last incident, the mansionâs wards had been reinforced until not even a rat could slip through. Who wouldâve thought one bird would cause such a ruckus in the middle of the night?
Icart glared at the crow with a murderous aura.
But the stupid bird, seemingly fearless, only tilted its head innocently.
âCawâ!â
When Icart moved to grab it, the crow flew straight into Roseliaâs arms, rubbing against her affectionately.
Even though it couldnât speak, the sight made Icartâs irritation spike.
âA stupid and unpleasant crow.â
He ordered the guards coldly:
âMaybe it wasnât an accident. It couldâve been sent with ill intent. Guards, kill it at once.â
âYes, young lord.â
âCawâ!â
The crow flailed desperately, as if it understood.
A guard raised his crossbowâ
âWait!â
Roselia cried out, horrified.
âI think it was just an accident! The poor thing hit the window so hard it fainted. Itâs just⊠dumbââ
âCaw!â
The crow flapped indignantly, protesting.
âNo, really, it looks like a normal crow. Its wings are clumsy, its body is scrawny⊠thereâs no way it was raised for training.â
âHmm.â
Roselia held the crow protectively.
Her words softened Icartâs glare somewhat, and the crow looked up at him with big, pitiful eyesâlike Puss in Boots.
The ultimate âcute actâ strategy.
Even as a crow, his beauty wouldnât fade.
After all, Cayenneâs specialtyâhis hobby, evenâwas being handsome.
Capturing peopleâs hearts with his dazzling looks was easier for him than sipping soup.
His charm worked on everyone, regardless of gender or taste. With one well-aimed display of cuteness, even this stern man should fall.
Cayenne fired his most pitiful gaze at Icart, determined to win him over.
After several seconds of eye contactâ
ââŠStill disgusting.â
Icartâs irritation only deepened.