PandoraHearts ~Caucus Race~, Vol. 1 (7 page)

Wh-wh-why did Oz-sama show up there? Echo doesn’t really…

As Echo thought this, her cheeks went red.

She shook her head, chasing away Oz—who had obstinately taken up residence in her brain and was wearing a truly first-class smile—and turned her attention back to the boutique.

It hadn’t been very long since Dahlia had gone in. Echo didn’t care that much about her own appearance, but she did know that women took time to choose clothes. Echo didn’t mind waiting. She settled down on the roof of the antique store, made herself unnoticeable, held very still, and waited.

An hour passed. Still, Dahlia showed no sign of leaving the shop.

Is she still picking out clothes? …Wishy-washy…
Echo thought, a little disgusted.

It wouldn’t hurt to make sure. She climbed down to the street. A new customer—a lady with excellent timing—was just about to enter the shop, so Echo strolled past, pretending to be a passerby, and shot a quick glance inside through the open door.

As far as she could see, the only person there was the shop attendant. Echo’s heart skipped a beat.
She’s gone?

But in the next instant, Dahlia surfaced from the recesses of the shop. Hastily putting some distance between herself and the boutique, Echo slipped into a nearby shadow and hid.

Dahlia’s cheeks were faintly flushed. Maybe she was happy over a bargain she’d found. She passed Echo without noticing her and walked away, down the street. …Just as Dahlia passed, Echo caught an odd scent drifting from her.

It was very faint…and yet…

That’s… But…

It was a scent Echo was used to, but the circumstances made it hard to identify.

The smell of…blood—?

Nothing about Dahlia’s day after she returned to the mansion was particularly unusual.

Once she’d confirmed that Dahlia had gone to bed, Echo returned to the Nightray manor.

When Echo entered the drawing room, Vincent was lying on the sofa, gazing absently up at the ceiling.

He might not have been thinking about anything at all. It was just as likely that he was plotting something nefarious.

Echo was in Vincent’s service, but she didn’t understand her master’s inner workings. —Somewhere, hidden deep down, was the feeling that she was afraid to understand.

“Echo has returned, Vincent-sama,” she called.

Her back was to the door; she’d closed it behind her without turning. At her voice, Vincent’s face turned toward her.

“Welcome back, Echo. Come here…”

He beckoned, and Echo crossed to the sofa. Then Echo noticed the small, charmingly wrapped box on the table in front of the sofa. As if he’d registered Echo’s gaze, Vincent said, “It’s from her,” in a cold voice. “Homemade cookies and biscuits, apparently…”

At the word “her,” the face of the Vessalius woman Vincent had been seeing lately appeared in Echo’s mind. Ada Vessalius.

Echo knew Ada was Oz’s little sister. She also knew Vincent certainly wasn’t seeing her because he liked her.

“Just dispose of those for me, would you, Echo?”

Vincent spoke as if he couldn’t have cared less. He added something spiteful about how they might have powdered newt in them, but Echo didn’t really understand that bit. She just nodded, silently.

“So? How did things look?”

“Yes, sir—”

Dahlia’s actions, or at least her actions today, had been quite ordinary.

However, the strangeness she’d sensed here and there—how was she to report that?

Echo began to speak, organizing her thoughts as she did so.

Dahlia had read a book all day, she told him, starting in the morning. She’d left the house once to go to a boutique, and after returning, she’d spent the rest of the day fairly monotonously.

After she finished speaking, Vincent muttered, “…No flaws that would make it easy to ruin her socially, then…” He sounded bored.

Then he glanced at Echo.

“What else? Anything you can think of…”

At Vincent’s question, although she still didn’t know how to explain it, Echo reported it:

The scent of blood she’d picked up from Dahlia when she left the boutique.

On hearing that, although Vincent’s bored expression didn’t change, a faint shadow of joy stole onto his lips.

“Is that right…” he said. “How interesting…”

That was all.

“Hello, Gil. I hear you’re meeting her tomorrow…?”

When Gilbert visited the Nightray manor and walked into the dressing room, he found Vincent sprawled on the sofa, as if lying in wait.

Vincent didn’t specify whom Gil would be meeting, but it was clear he meant Dahlia Garland. Dahlia’s request to socialize had come through the House of Nightray, so it wasn’t odd that Vincent knew about it.

“…Yeah.”

Gilbert kept his answer short; he wasn’t in the mood for a long conversation. He’d come back to the manor to pick up some clothes to wear to his meeting with Dahlia. He didn’t keep any formal clothes of the sort he could wear to meet a noblewoman in his bachelor’s apartment.

“You don’t look very cheerful… You’re not looking forward to it, Gil?”

“Not particularly. I’m just meeting her to turn her down. There’s nothing ‘fun’ or ‘not fun’ about that.”

“Hmm. So you’re turning her down…”

“Of course I am.”

“For the sake of your little master…?”

“—”

The longer he talked to this brother of his, the more bogged down he’d get. Knowing this, Gilbert let his silence answer for him and got to work choosing formal clothes.

Dahlia had said that, if he didn’t mind, she would prefer to meet in town. As a general rule, when two noble houses were involved, it was normal to begin by greeting each other properly at one family’s house. However, Gilbert appreciated the lack of formality, and he’d had no objections.

In addition, she’d said that she’d rather meet casually, without trying to put up a front for each other. The thought that, in that case, his ordinary clothes might be good enough had crossed Gilbert’s mind, but the roughness of those ordinary clothes had made him reconsider.

Casual is good, but… I really am meeting her, huh…?

At first, he’d thought about turning her down through a letter or something and ending it that way.

He couldn’t even consider seeing a lady socially, and Gilbert didn’t care two pins for the House of Nightray’s reputation. In that case, a letter would be the simplest way to do things, and it would also be the easiest on his nerves.

However, Gilbert had decided to meet her properly and turn her down. This had been partly due to his own serious nature, but even more to one of Oz’s teachings that he’d taken to heart:

“Always treat women with kindness and sincerity!”

As he thought back over this and that and grabbed a random suit:

“Shall I help you pick out clothes?”

Gilbert turned down Vincent’s teasing offer with a brusque “No need.”

As he absently chose clothes, he thought about Dahlia. Had she spoken to him at a party? He didn’t remember it. Still, if she had, the fact that he’d forgotten it was rude in and of itself. On top of that, Gilbert had already made up his mind to turn her down.

This is depressing…

Gilbert didn’t understand women.

That said, he was fairly sure that any woman would be hurt if she requested permission to formally socialize and was turned down.

He did know that much. And tomorrow, he’d be doing exactly that.

Even as he slipped into a gloomy mood with a fair measure of guilt mixed in, Gilbert roused himself.

I’ll do it. I can do that much on my own now…!

He’d already run several mental simulations since leaving Oz and Break at Pandora. After making such a dramatic declaration, he
had
to do it, no matter what. He told himself that letting those two get involved would make the situation much, much worse, so it was easier to tackle it himself. Gilbert seemed quite busy: depressed, head hanging, a black suit in hand, then muttering to himself, then looking up and rousing himself to action. Through it all, Vincent watched him lovingly.

“Later, Vince.”

Having calmed down, Gilbert was on his way out of the dressing room. Vincent yawned and lazily fluttered a hand at him.

“Oh, that’s right. Gil…”

Vincent spoke to Gilbert’s back. Gilbert didn’t turn.

“What?”

“Take care you don’t get eaten…”

“???”

“—All women are venemous spiders, you know.”

“‘All’ is going too far.”

With that reproving retort, Gilbert left the dressing room. As he walked down the corridor, his face cold and expressionless, questions swirled through his head.

Why had his little brother said a thing like that? That all women were “venemous spiders.” …That they all had venom.

No doubt some women were like that, Gilbert thought, but there were also women who weren’t. He knew one. A woman made entirely of kindness, cheer, and grace.

A woman who was worlds apart from “venom.”

Ada-sama—

As he silently called her name, his heart grew warm. That wasn’t venom. On the contrary, it was medicine.

That aside, because he was walking while absorbed in thought…

Gilbert, who knew the Nightray manor like the back of his hand, got lost.

“—Your precious Ada-sama is no exception, Gil.”

Back in the dressing room, dozing, engulfed in drowsiness, Vincent murmured to himself.

“…But don’t worry. I’ll get rid of any flies that come buzzing around you…”

Just as he’d always done.

A smile of dark joy crept over Vincent’s face.
…But
, he thought. From what Echo’s report had told him, this particular
fly seemed a bit different from the flies that had come before it. In that case, it might be interesting to watch the situation play out, at least for a little while.

As he thought, Vincent fell asleep.

…And, finally…

Echo, who’d entered the dressing room in search of her master, gazed at his peaceful, sleeping, smiling face. In a very, very small voice, she muttered:

“……He looks evil when he sleeps.”

“I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’m not very good with formalities.”

That was the first thing Dahlia said to Gilbert when they met the following day, at noon, in the park they’d designated as their meeting place.

In person, Dahlia’s quiet air was even more pronounced than her photograph had suggested.

When she stood, she seemed like a slender, shade-blooming flower that could be plucked easily by hand.

To Gilbert, she seemed to stand quietly, self-effacingly, unfurling delicate petals in secret.

When he thought back, comparing them, most of the women who’d made earlier requests to socialize had actively approached Gilbert. Even if they hadn’t, they’d eyed him appreciatively with bold, sticky stares. Both types had made Gilbert utterly miserable.

Dahlia wasn’t like either.

After she apologized, she didn’t seem to have anything to say. She looked down, turning her gaze from Gilbert, and fell silent.

In its own way, this bewildered Gilbert.

“…” Silent Dahlia.

Maintaining a superficial calm, Gilbert kept his mouth shut.

I-I have no idea how to deal with this!

It was beginning to make him feel dizzy.

On a weekday, at noon, in a corner of a sparsely populated park, an aristocratic couple sat facing each other in silence.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

A fresh breeze blew through the park, caressing the trees and setting the leaves rustling. But the two of them were—

Silent.

Silent.

……Silent.

What am I supposed to do?! Is it all right to start turning her down now?!
Gilbert asked himself.

If anyone who’d known him for a long time and knew him well were to see him now—

His face was pale, his mouth was drawn, and his internal confusion was gushing out all over the place.

If this was how it was going to be, Gilbert thought, it was better to broach the subject right away and get it over with. He opened his mouth.

“Um, listen—”

“Gilbert-sama.”

“……?! Wh-what is it?” She’d gotten the jump on him in a matter-of-fact voice, and he felt his heart jump guiltily.

“Shall we stroll for a bit?”

Dahlia looked up, smiling faintly. Bewildered, Gilbert could only nod.

True, endlessly facing each other in silence this way was
strange. Side by side, the two of them started down a footpath that wove through the wide park.

However, once they’d started walking, Dahlia fell silent again. For his part, Gilbert was badly flustered, and the words wouldn’t come. As they walked, they kept a subtle distance between them, a space just large enough for a child.
What in the world is this?
Gilbert thought.

Not good…

He thought desperately. He thought, but:

I…have no idea how to get started!

Gilbert’s mind was a small boat tossed by raging waves.

Two people, strolling along in silence.

“I’m sorry, Gilbert-sama. —Have I inconvenienced you?”

“Huh?”

Dahlia had spoken rather abruptly, but Gilbert somehow managed to keep his voice from cracking when he responded.

“My father…decided the matter for me. I didn’t know what to do, either.”

Dahlia’s words reached Gilbert’s ears, then slowly sank into his heart.

At Gilbert’s sudden unresponsiveness, Dahlia tilted her head slightly, perplexed.

Finally, on a sigh, Gilbert said, “—I see.” As far as his actual feelings were concerned, those words had brought him relief so potent that he very nearly sank to the ground.

This sort of thing wasn’t uncommon in aristocratic society. Women in particular often found themselves in marriages that had been orchestrated without regard for their wishes.

Unlike the previous cases, Dahlia hadn’t asked for permission to see Gilbert of her own accord.

That alone made Gilbert feel as if he’d been rescued.

“That is what happened…”

At Gilbert’s murmur, Dahlia glanced at him.