The Countess's Body Has Disappeared - Chapter 43

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 43
It was a flawless summer day—not a cloud in the sky. So after ducking into the Cabin to lighten Betty’s workload, Cecilia had spread out a straw mat beneath the plane trees and taken her lunch in the open air for the first time in weeks.
Davion sat beside her with his legs stretched out, fanning her flushed cheeks with a lazy hand. She was always lovely, but when her face flushed pink like this, she was absolutely irresistible.
When she presently offered him peanut butter toast, Davion quietly shook his head. Watching her eat was sustenance enough.
Where did all that food fit in such a slight frame? She ate no meat, but Cecilia was quite the appetite—something he found endlessly charming.
The corners of the straw mat were weighted down with a book from the Cabin to keep the wind from catching them. It was as Davion’s gaze drifted across the Field that his eyes chanced to land on the book’s cover.
Cecilia, sharp as a hawk, caught that flicker of interest in an instant and laughed. Another recruit for her exclusive little “book club” was practically guaranteed at this point.
“Want to read it? It’s actually pretty fun!”
She thrust the romance novel toward him with such burning enthusiasm that Davion found himself reflexively wrinkling his nose.
“No, it just caught my eye. Personally, I’m not really into romance novels…”
“What? You don’t read romance novels?”
“Never read one in my life.”
“Not even once?”
A shadow of genuine concern settled across Cecilia’s face, as though she were looking at someone afflicted with a grave illness.
“Then what do you find worth living for?”
Davion couldn’t help but laugh.
Well. Exercise. Cigarettes. And… you.
You’re the most entertaining of all. Just watching you is enough to make me feel full. And sometimes, hungry enough to starve.
That’s not something I could joke about even if I tried.
An image from this morning in the bathroom flashed unbidden through his mind. The fit of his trousers had become decidedly awkward, and with a sigh that was almost a groan, he snatched the novel she’d thrust under his nose.
“Fine. Since you say it’s so entertaining, I’ll give it a read—but don’t expect me to write you any book reports.”
You really do make me do the most ridiculous things.
But Cecilia, blissfully ignorant of his inner turmoil, broke into a triumphant smile and delivered her ultimatum with a playful flourish.
“I’m in the middle of the next volume. So read slowly and savor it, all right?”
“Yes, yes. Your Majesty’s command is my will.”
Cecilia giggled as she licked a bread crumb from her lip. Smiling at the sight of her, Davion reached into his pocket for a cigarette, but then paused—remembering something he’d forgotten—and pressed a hand to his brow.
“Go ahead and smoke. We’re outside.”
“No, I lost my Lighter. I must have dropped it somewhere in the house yesterday.”
“Lost it?”
He tucked the cigarette back into its case with a nod.
After rummaging through the basket and counting the remaining bread, Cecilia’s eyes—bright as the sky overhead—sparkled with sudden purpose.
“How about I find that Lighter for you?”
.
.
.
Before Cecilia, perched on a tree stump, a throng of some hundred rats had assembled.
They chirped and squeaked loudly, arranging themselves in perfect, orderly rows. Then, when Cecilia said something, they all ceased at once and turned their attention upon her, listening with rapt focus.
Davion, leaning against a tree a few meters away, was seized by an unfamiliar dread.
‘There were this many rats living in my house all along….’
After a moment, as the chaotic squeaking settled, Cecilia broached the reason she’d summoned them.
Since meeting Cecilia, Davion had never heard the Witch Language spoken at such length and in such detail. She wielded it with an otherworldly voice, as though it came from some third vocal apparatus that only witches possessed.
Multiple phonemes overlapped in each utterance, and the pitch of each syllable leaped irregularly. A listener unfamiliar with it might have thought she was singing a discordant melody.
And yet, impossibly, the rats before her moved like people.
They nodded and murmured back to her, occasionally exchanging gestures with the rats beside them as if conversing. When one even raised its paw to ask permission before speaking, Davion found himself questioning reality more than once—had he fallen asleep?
Though he could hear only the squeaking that the rats themselves produced, unlike Cecilia’s articulate speech, he found himself utterly transfixed, holding his breath without realizing it, pouring every scrap of his attention onto their utterances. When Cecilia called his name a second time, he startled and looked up.
“So what does the Lighter look like?”
At her question, a hundred pairs of eyes—black as beans—fixed themselves upon Davion in unison.
Before answering, Davion wet his dry lips with his tongue.
‘I’ll never be able to look at those tail-twitching creatures the same way again.’
“It’s silver and rectangular. There’s an eagle engraved on the lid.”
“Is it heavy?”
“It’s light, but… it’s metal, so it might be heavy for the rats.”
Cecilia traced the shape through the air with both hands, relaying his description to them.
But the search seemed to be hitting complications. She conferred with the gray rat at the head of the group, her brow furrowing, her lower lip pushing out. Her gestures grew sharper and more agitated—Davion could tell they were having a dispute.
“Is something wrong?”
The instant he spoke, the black eyes swung back toward him, and Davion felt his crossed arms twitch.
Cecilia, caught in distress, let out a small groan and glanced at him sheepishly.
“Oh no… I thought one bag of bread would do it, but it seems the cost of living has gone up.”
“…Cost of living?”
Davion learned for the first time that such a concept existed even among rat society. With a frown, he drew his wallet—heavy with cash—from his pocket and opened it.
“Then I need to pay you in money? How much?”
“No, that’s not it.”
Cecilia shook her head and gave him an apologetic, somewhat embarrassed smile.
“Rock sugar to go with the bread, too.”
* * *
After a spirited negotiation, the mice came away with one bag of sliced bread and ten pieces of rock sugar.
If the Lighter had indeed been lost somewhere inside the Cabin, they swore they would find it within a month (naturally, Davion couldn’t hear them, and Cecilia relayed what they’d said).
Their footsteps as they departed after concluding the satisfactory trade were far lighter than when they’d arrived at the Cabin, and they waved goodbye not only to Cecilia but also to Davion, who stood beside her like a man in a daze.
That evening, Cecilia spent a long-awaited reading time with Betty in comfortable silence.
Betty was the most enthusiastic member—and the only one—of her “reading” circle. Propped against a large pillow with her head beside Betty’s, Cecilia held the open book high so the old woman could see it clearly.
“Well? What do you think?”
After finishing the final chapter, Cecilia ventured carefully to ask.
Betty, who had been frowning throughout the novel, moved her wrinkled lips as if she’d been waiting for the question.
“I enjoyed the last one more. This one’s male lead just doesn’t have any charm.”
“Come on, you just don’t like military characters, that’s all. Because your ex-husband was a soldier!”
Cecilia propped herself up on her elbows, speaking excitedly, and Betty chuckled softly.
“Well, that’s true enough.”
The Captain’s Secret Hobby 2
The elegant title in cursive script gleamed on the navy cloth cover. Once Cecilia lowered the book below the bed and lay back down, Betty pulled the blanket over her and spoke with quiet seriousness.
“Cece, promise me you’ll never marry a soldier. Especially not one who deploys frequently. You’ll spend your whole life wondering if your husband is dead or alive—nothing but heartache.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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