Chapter 178: Morning Emptiness
Around eight in the morning.
Phrolova slowly opened her eyes. There was no groggy haze of just waking, only a settled clarity.
The brief rest hadn't dispelled the weariness between her brows, though this body had long surpassed the bounds of life, a deeper emptiness was spreading through her chest.
She sat up, and as her bare feet touched the cold floor, her fingertips unconsciously brushed over her heart.
Something should have been beating there, but now there was only a silent wasteland.
Why?
She had long been used to this unchanging solitude...
The young woman walked to the window and gently opened it.
The sky hung low, heavy gray clouds pressing down on the distant horizon.
Rolling dark clouds were gathering at the meeting point of sea and sky, as if brewing some unspeakable storm.
The salty sea breeze, thick with moisture, rushed into the room, stirring her pale hair.
Phrolova narrowed her eyes slightly, feeling in a daze that this gloomy sky was slowly merging with the growing void in her heart.
The bedroom next door had long been silent. She couldn't even remember when that long night had ended, just as she couldn't remember when she had finally drifted into a light sleep amidst her chaotic thoughts.
Only fragmented images remained in the depths of her consciousness, rapid breathing in the darkness, her own flushed fingertips, and...
She looked down at her palm, as if she could still feel that illusory warmth from last night.
An inexplicable heat crept up her spine again, making her unconsciously press her legs together.
"...Hah."
She took a deep breath, as if to dispel those untimely thoughts, and turned to walk toward the bathroom at the end of the hallway.
The cold floor sent chills through the soles of her feet, but she craved an even more complete cooling, perhaps only icy water could extinguish this suddenly revived, unsettling heat.
Pushing open the door, her slightly flushed cheeks were reflected in the mirror.
Phrolova turned on the faucet, letting the rushing water fill the small space.
The moment her fingertips touched the icy stream, she trembled slightly, suddenly remembering that someone had once touched her like this long ago
Not the intensity she'd heard through the wall last night, but some forgotten midnight when someone had pressed her hand to his chest and smiled, saying he would keep his promises.
The water filled the sink, and she buried her face in the bracing cold.
"That bastard."
...
...
Ray struggled awake from his hazy sleep, his eyelids still heavy with exhaustion.
His fingertips fumbled on the nightstand for a moment, and the cool terminal screen lit up with a faint glow, it was already afternoon.
The pillow still held the lingering fragrance of a young woman, but Carlotta was nowhere to be seen.
He sat up, rubbing his sore lower back, and looked at his terminal, where a string of unread messages from them awaited.
Phoebe: [Good morning, Mr. Ray! Another energetic day!]
Lupa: [Sigh, partner. My team's agent actually wants me to throw a match! Even the family is hinting at me to agree. What do these people think sportsmanship is!]
Iuno: [Blank, next time you come to the Septimont, remember to bring me some more interesting little trinkets.]
And the final unread message made his fingertip pause above the screen
It was from Cantarella.
[Long time no see, little guest.]
[I'm sure you've heard by now that the Fisalia and Montelli families will be formally meeting the day after tomorrow.]
[As the head of the Fisalia family, I will naturally be attending this banquet.]
[But I'm so bored here all alone... Won't you come keep me company?]
[Who knows, there might be a surprise you wouldn't expect.]
The words seemed to carry that woman's signature sweet, cloying fragrance.
Ray looked out at the gray sky and suddenly felt his throat go dry.
For the Second Miss's sake, he should have ignored this message, but his fingers involuntarily hovered over the reply box.
His fingertips tapped out a response: [A surprise? What kind of surprise?]
He was about to put down his terminal and go wash up when the screen immediately lit up. Cantarella's reply came as quickly as if she had been waiting by her terminal the whole time.
Cantarella: [Mmm? I sent you a message this morning. Why are you just now replying?]
Ray: [Because I just woke up.]
Cantarella: [It's already afternoon, and you just woke up? What were you doing last night?]
What was he doing last night?
Doing Carlotta.
The blunt answer flashed through his mind, and he shook his head vigorously to dispel it.
"That's way too crude."
He muttered to himself and finally replied with something ambiguous: [Guess?]
Tossing the question back was indeed the best approach.
After a moment's wait, Cantarella messaged again: [Remember to practice moderation. Going too far is bad for your health. Speaking of health, I happen to have some body-conditioning elixirs here. Would you like to try them?]
Ray stared at the reply, momentarily stunned.
How did Cantarella know?
She hadn't planted a bug on him, had she?
[Rather than that stuff, tell me what this surprise of yours is first.]
Cantarella: [Sigh, I really envy Carlotta. But if I tell you what the surprise is, would it still be a surprise? If you want this surprise so badly, come find me.]
Attached was an address near Bank Street.
[Be quick about it.]
[The head of the Fisalia family's time is very limited.]
"...Cantarella's surprise, huh." Ray murmured softly.
He knew Cantarella, though she liked to tease with flirtatious words, she never played games when it came to serious matters.
Since she'd specifically mentioned a surprise, she must have prepared something worth the anticipation.
So, might as well go take a look.
Ray left the room, washed up in the bathroom, got dressed, and prepared to leave.
He neatly adjusted his collar and pushed open the door, only to run into a crimson figure.
Phrolova rubbed her bruised forehead, frowning. Before she could complain, he hastily cut her off. "Sorry, I've got something urgent. If you're hungry, order takeout. Put it on my tab."
"Wait—"
Before she could finish, he was already a gust of wind sweeping down the hallway.
Phrolova stared blankly at the corner where he had disappeared. The dull thud of the front door closing shook the floor slightly.
The empty living room held only her, standing at the intersection of light and shadow.
Her wine-red pupils reflected the slightly swaying door panel, as if she could still see his departing figure.
For a long time, she slowly raised her hand to her chest. Something there was slowly sinking with the fading footsteps.
"...Bastard."