PandoraHearts ~Caucus Race~, Vol. 1 (8 page)

“So you’d settled on your answer from the beginning.”

“Huh?”

“You seem terribly relieved.”

“
Erg.”
Busted.

“You were thinking of how to turn me down without hurting me, weren’t you?”

Was it that obvious?!
Gilbert thought in disbelief.

This was awful. He’d wavered and agonized, and on top of that, instead of saying it himself, he’d made the other party pick up on his intent and say it for him.

Gilbert wasn’t at all quick on the uptake where relations between the sexes were concerned, but he did know just how unmanly and pathetic that had been. It depressed him so much he felt like falling to his hands and knees.

But before he collapsed into depression, there was one thing he had to do. Gilbert stopped in his tracks.

A moment later, Dahlia also stopped and looked at him. “Gilbert-sama?”

“…I’m sorry.”

He made a heartfelt apology. At his words, Dahlia shook her head.

“Please don’t apologize, Gilbert-sama.”

“No, I’ve been terribly rude to you.”

Conscientiously, Gilbert bowed his head low.

This gentlemanly, chivalrous attitude seemed to startle Dahlia. Her eyes widened slightly.

Then, wondering a bit, she said, “You don’t quite seem like a man from one of the great noble families, Gilbert-sama.”

“Yes, I know. See, I wasn’t always— I-I mean, I have not always been—”

“…Please don’t worry about it.”

“???”

“You don’t have to be formal with me.”

Dahlia giggled as she spoke. There was something friendly and a bit childlike about her smile.

“
Okay.”

Still a bit bewildered, Gilbert responded with a wry smile. He felt very apologetic toward Dahlia.

Lying in bed the night before, he’d run through all sorts of ways to turn her down. He’d felt compelled to get rid of Dahlia as soon as possible, treating her as if she were some sort of contaminant.

Gilbert was ashamed of himself. At the same time, he remembered his brother’s words:
All women are venemous spiders.

The thought that he’d been right, that there really were women who weren’t, warmed his heart.

Even though it hadn’t been very long since he’d met her in person, Gilbert was fully convinced of that.

“Only… Do you think you could spend just a bit longer with me?”

Dahlia sounded apologetic.

“If I go home too readily, Father will scold me…”

“…Ah, I see.”

It all made sense to Gilbert now. In aristocratic society, when parents arranged for socialization and marriage, it was usually done with strategic intent. Dahlia probably couldn’t just say, “Oh, that’s all right,” and go home simply because Gilbert wasn’t keen on the idea. Besides, it was easy enough to give her what she needed.

“If you’re sure I’ll do,” Gilbert said. Dahlia smiled and nodded.

“Thank you very much. …That really is more like you, Gilbert-sama.”

When Gilbert looked perplexed:

“Being casual,” Dahlia said, pleasantly.

“It’s a bit of a walk, but there’s a lovely fountain up ahead, with benches beside it.”

Dahlia pointed down the footpath as she spoke, and the two of them set off again.

Apparently this was the first time Dahlia had been to this park, but she’d investigated it beforehand.

If possible, she’d told Gilbert, she’d like to sit and use up a bit more time talking. Her hesitant tone made Gilbert realize that she was being painstakingly considerate of him, and that made him feel even more apologetic.

Still
, he thought,
…somehow, I did manage to settle this on my own.

True, he’d been saved by Dahlia’s perceptiveness, but at least he hadn’t borrowed help from anyone.

He was a little proud of that.

Walking beside Gilbert, Dahlia spoke, looking up at the trees that lined the footpath.

“I don’t often leave the house, you see. This all feels very new to me.”

“Yes, you do seem like a bit of a homebody— Uh, I mean… Sorry.”

“No, you’re right. My father worries that I’ll never get myself married off… Oh no, I’m sorry.”

Having both said a bit too much, they both apologized, both smiling uncomfortably.

As they walked, Gilbert mentioned that he was living on his own, and Dahlia’s eyes went wide. Apparently the idea of a member of one of the four great dukedoms living alone in a lower-class neighborhood really was startling. As she looked at Gilbert, Dahlia seemed impressed.

“You’re really amazing, Gilbert-sama. Living without help from anyone…”

“No, it was just too uncomfortable to stay in that house.”

Once the words were out, he realized he might have said a bit too much again. He’d never told anyone he wasn’t very close to his true feelings on that subject. He wished it hadn’t come up. Telling her the reason would only make the atmosphere more awkward.

Dahlia was watching Gilbert, her mouth closed. Gilbert worried she suspected him of something.

However, Dahlia said, “I see…” Then she smiled gently. “If you live alone, does that mean you cook for yourself, too?”

“Huh? …Oh, yeah. A bit.”

“That’s wonderful. I’ve never even set foot in a kitchen.”

She must have sensed that he hadn’t wanted her to ask. Gilbert was secretly moved by the way Dahlia had changed the subject for him.
What a nice person
, he thought.

Gilbert had completely relaxed. He and Dahlia chatted. Unless he was with someone he was close to, Gilbert tended to be taciturn, but now, unusually for him, he talked about this and that. Since he wasn’t able to talk about Pandora activities, they mostly discussed trivial, everyday things.

During the conversation, Oz’s name came up.

“Oz…sama?” Dahlia repeated the name.

Oops
, Gilbert thought.

As far as the general public was concerned, Oz—Oz Vessalius, of the House of Vessalius—had died ten years ago.

Only a few aristocrats with ties to Pandora knew that Oz had returned from the Abyss.

For that reason, Gilbert had to pretend he’d meant someone else with the same name.

“Yes— He’s a…friend,” he explained, awkwardly.

Oz was his master. Ordinarily, he’d never dream of calling him a friend, even in jest. He wanted to declare “Oz is my
master” to everyone, at all times, with pride and confidence. He wanted to boast about it.

Gilbert’s heart was leaden with guilt and remorse.

As Gilbert answered painfully, his eyebrows drawn together, Dahlia looked a bit puzzled, but she responded, “I see. What sort of person is he?”

At her casual question, Gilbert fell silent. How could he describe Oz to a third party?

I’m proud to call him my master
. The words were on the tip of his tongue.

He desperately swallowed them back down, searching for some other, harmless expression.

He thought, and thought, and…

“…He’s…hard on the heart, in all sorts of ways.”

“
Is
he!”

Then Gilbert told her about how Oz kept him scrambling on a daily basis. He hadn’t intended it to sound particularly funny, but at each little anecdote, Dahlia giggled merrily.

He felt as if she was probably laughing at the way Oz had him twisted around his little finger, but somehow it didn’t bother him.

Once he’d more or less finished talking, Dahlia said, “You really treasure this Oz-sama, don’t you.”

Gilbert, who hadn’t expected to hear that, responded with a startled “Huh?”

“Hee-hee! I can tell. When you talk about him, it’s as plain as day, Gilbert-sama.”

Even as he felt a mild jolt at the idea that he was so easy to read, he had no choice but to acknowledge it.

“…Is that right,” Gilbert answered, simply.

Talking about himself and Oz had begun to feel awkward, and Gilbert changed the subject.

This time, it was Gilbert’s turn to ask Dahlia how she
spent her days. However, Dahlia told him she spent all day reading, and that her routine seldom varied. It seemed to Gilbert, though, that this sort of quiet life did not particularly suit her.

After that, they talked of all sorts of things: the books Dahlia liked and things that had happened to Gilbert while he was living on his own.

The air around them was soft and warm.

This isn’t a bad way to relax, once in a while
, Gilbert thought.

Of course—

He knew there was really no place for him in a world this gentle.

Somehow…just being with this woman is really calming
, Gilbert thought.

At length, as they walked down the footpath, Gilbert caught sight of two women up ahead.

The women were crouched down with their backs to him.

By the look of things, they seemed to be in some sort of trouble. This park drew many lower-class visitors, and the flamboyant dresses the ladies wore stood out rather sharply. Dahlia also noticed the pair; sounding a bit worried, she asked, “Have they fallen, do you think?”

With a nod to Dahlia, Gilbert began to walk a bit faster, approaching the two women from behind.

He called to them, politely: “Can I be of any assistance…?”

—In that instant, for some reason, his heart thudded violently.
What’s going on?
he thought.

“Oh, that’s so
kind
of you,” said one of the women.

“Yes, I’ve broken the heel of my shoe,” said the other.

The pair turned to face him, saying:

“Tee-hee! You really are…too kind.
”

“GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH?!” Gilbert screamed.

From that yell, you’d have thought he’d encountered the most horrible monster in the world, and Dahlia shrank back, startled.

“Whatever’s the matter?” she called to him, but Gilbert couldn’t answer.

To Dahlia, the individuals standing in front of Gilbert seemed to be a beautiful lady and a lovely young girl. They were so well favored that, if the two of them were to walk around town together, many men would no doubt turn to look at them, stare, and feel compelled to compliment them.

However, Gilbert had screamed as though his soul were evaporating. Dahlia could only tilt her head—“???”—in bewilderment.

One of the pair, the energetic young girl, pouted a bit.

“I
beg
your pardon. You’ll hurt a girl’s feelings, taking one look and screaming like that.”

At her words, the other, an alluring beauty, said, “Myyyy, isn’t
that
the truth!”

Then they looked at each other, and, in perfect harmony, said: “Quite!
”