The Cat Who Weeps in the Dark - Chapter 38

“We have much to say.”

“I wonder. What do you mean?”

“For example. Things like what happened to your body yesterday.”

Katie habitually bit her lip. It was an unconscious action she did whenever uncomfortable situations arose.

Suddenly Helion rose from his seat. In just two steps, he arrived before Katie.

Katie retreated backward to avoid him. But behind her was only a wall and a window. Soon her back touched something hard.

“How thoughtful of you to back yourself into a corner. I should thank you.”

Helion closed the distance toward her. Only then did Katie think, Oh no. Avoiding him had only trapped her with no escape.

She tried belatedly to twist sideways, but it was useless.

Helion stretched both arms to brace against the wall, effortlessly blocking her advance and retreat.

“Have you prepared any excuses, Dame Katie?”

Excuses. Of course she had some prepared.

She could at least claim she’d taken suppressants for her transition, but yesterday’s heat was impossible to explain. So she’d come up with this.

There had been unidentified liquid in the room. Suspecting it might be dangerous, she’d tasted it – and it seemed to have been an aphrodisiac.

But even she knew it wasn’t a convincing excuse. What idiot knight would recklessly drink unknown liquid?

Moreover, Helion himself had called it an “excuse.” Whatever explanation she gave – even if she told the truth – he would obviously dismiss it as just that.

“Even if I explain, would you believe me?”

“I’m the one asking questions here.”

A typically arrogant Helion-like reply. He leaned his weight onto the wall-bracing hand, bending his usually rigidly straight back with surprising flexibility as his face drew closer.

“You’ve already heard about the spy in the east, haven’t you?”

“…That’s correct.”

Katie felt her heart plummet. Though she answered calmly without showing it, she couldn’t hide the wild pounding of her rebellious heartbeat.

The distance was too close. With his keen senses, he might have even heard it.

“A mid-rank knight from the eastern palace, hiding their true skills. I wish that knight had really been just an ordinary commoner girl, exactly as written on their application.”

“Then you’re in luck. Since what you know is already the truth.”

How brazen.

Yet Helion didn’t dislike Katie’s audacity.

“Can’t conclude that yet. I’m curious about you, Katie. I want to know what kind of person you are.”

“Then ask. To clear up those ridiculous suspicions, I’ll answer anything.”

“Are you really confident you can answer anything?”

“Yes.”

Contrary to expectations that she’d hesitate, her reply was immediate. Helion’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Then answer this. What was the name of the girl your age who lived next door?”

“Rosella. And she wasn’t my age—she was a year younger.”

“With that small age gap, you must’ve grown up together since childhood.”

“Of course. It was a small neighborhood.”

It was a sharp question, but Katie had nothing to hide. She wasn’t some half-baked spy. She’d already mastered every detail of the person she was impersonating.

She knew everything—family relations, the sights and sounds of her hometown, even its smells. That naturally included information about neighbors.

But Helion wasn’t an opponent who’d be so easily satisfied.

“Tell me about that girl’s eye color. However common it might be, you wouldn’t forget your childhood friend’s eye color, would you?”

Katie was momentarily speechless. If asked to describe the girl’s appearance, she could’ve talked endlessly.

But eye color… Frankly, unless they were truly close, who remembered such trivial details?

And he’d said it was a common color, not even unusual.

‘Black or brown, then.’

The problem was which one. There was also the non-negligible chance of green eyes—less common, but not exactly rare either.

“Rosella’s eyes were…”

Katie swallowed dryly. Though she’d barely managed to speak, her act of feigning nonchalance was already as good as ruined.

The silence before her answer stretched too long.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The time it took for the clock’s second hand to move just three ticks—that short span was more than enough for this man to pick up on suspicion.

“Brown. A dark brown.”

Had she said black, she would’ve countered with, “That’s why I specified ‘dark.’” If light brown, she’d have replied, “They were darker when we were kids.”

But Helion didn’t respond. Or rather, he gave no answer at all.