Sigh, have I just messed things up for her? Is she going to think that Bernadette is subtly hinting that there's no place for her in the castle anymore?
Anyway, this whole issue is her fault. I don't know anything about it. She should've explained it clearly in the note.
Vincent Moriarty sat at his desk, picking up the object that resembled a "Lu Ban lock." After examining it closely, he confirmed that it was indeed a Lu Ban lock—made of some unknown wood, heavy in hand, and tightly interlocking wooden pieces that made it impossible to see what was inside.
Typically, a Lu Ban lock consists of six pieces of wood, but the one before him was much more complex, made of twelve pieces. However, the method for unlocking it was still the same: either follow the pattern and slowly solve it, or throw it on the ground and stomp on it.
Given that they were in the mysterious world, the second option could be dangerous, so it was better to stick to solving the puzzle. And honestly, once you know the trick, it wouldn't take long.
Still, this dangerous item was better left for Bernadette to handle when she returned.
He gently placed the object back and kept his distance from it.
...
As nightfall deepened, with the last ray of sunlight sinking beneath the horizon, the world was once again overtaken by the crimson moonlight, casting an eerie glow over the deep black sea. Occasionally, a few waves would rise, tinged red like blood.
Since learning that this was the mysterious world, Vincent hadn't looked at the moon or the stars again. Though he hadn't seen the later chapters of the original story, he knew that the greatest danger in this world came from the sky.
He stretched lazily, then leaned over his desk, "I'm hungry."
Had this been a couple of days ago, he would've just gone to the next room to find something to eat. But… ever since that glasses-wearing girl entered, she hadn't come out again, and he wasn't sure what was going on.
sigh, I'll skip a meal tonight. Consider it intermittent fasting.
Knock knock knock.
At that moment, there was a knock on the door.
Vincent quickly straightened his back and adjusted his expression, switching from casual to calm in an instant.
"Come in."
Cattleya pushed open the door with one hand, holding a tray with several freshly cooked dishes. "Your Majesty, I've just made a few simple dishes. Would you like to try them?"
Vincent raised an eyebrow. He had thought she was still upset from the room incident, but it seemed like she had quietly made a few dishes. This definitely wasn't the first time she'd done something like this.
"Sure."
This time, he didn't invite her to eat with him. As he'd guessed, Cattleya placed the dishes down and left without saying much.
An hour later, she knocked on the door again, collecting the plates he had eaten from. She said nothing during the process, moving as lightly as possible to avoid disturbing the "mysterious queen" who was reading.
The feeling of being waited on was much more comfortable than being self-sufficient when alone in the room.
Once she left, Vincent clicked his tongue, a thought suddenly crossing his mind: If I made her stay and take care of my daily needs, she wouldn't refuse, would she?
Forget it, I'll avoid the trouble.
Around 10 p.m., Vincent had just entered the bathroom and turned on the faucet to wash up when Cattleya knocked on the door for the third time. This time, she wore a light silk nightgown, her hair still damp, cascading down her back with a faint, pleasant fragrance. She had just finished showering and looked more alluring than before.
But Vincent remained calm. Perhaps, subconsciously, he had begun to think of her as half a "foster daughter."
She hesitated for a moment before softly speaking, "Your Majesty, may I help you with your back?"
Vincent: "???"
Huh?
This is something that can actually be written in a story?
No, what I mean is, ahem, if I were really Bernadette, there'd be no problem with this, but…
And Bernadette had specifically set a "rule" not to let me bathe. If she finds out not only that I've bathed, but also that I had her foster daughter help with my back... she might just kill me the next time we swap.
Vincent shook his head. "No need, I've already finished."
"Ah?"
Cattleya froze, but she didn't dare to ask further. With a look of disappointment, she left.
Half an hour later, there was another knock on the door.
This time, Cattleya carefully held a book in her hands and said, "Your Majesty, I have some knowledge about mysticism that I would like to ask you about. Is it convenient for you?"
...
Vincent leaned back against the bed, glancing at her without saying anything. Was she testing me, trying to figure out if I have a problem?
They stared at each other for a moment.
Soon, Cattleya's eyes flashed with unease. She had mustered all her courage to knock on the door, but in truth, asking about mysticism was just an excuse. She just wanted to spend more time with her "queen" while she had the chance, like when they were younger.
The Queen must have noticed. She surely noticed. After all, I was so obvious—how greedy of me.
She lowered her gaze. "I... I don't have any questions anymore."
"Your Majesty, goodnight, I hope you have sweet dreams."
"Wait."
At that moment, Vincent spoke, "If you have any doubts, write them down. I'll have time to look at them later. Now, go back and rest."
"Thank you, Your Majesty."
"Oh, if your room isn't convenient for sleeping, you can move to another…"
"No problem," she bowed and left.
Vincent shrugged. "…Alright then."
He yawned and snuggled under the covers. "Time to sleep."
The crimson moonlight was uncomfortable, but somehow, it helped him fall asleep quickly. Before he knew it, he was deeply asleep.
...
The next morning.
Vincent expected to be woken up by Cattleya's knocking, but when he woke up naturally, there was no sound at all.
He lazily sat up, and as his chest swelled, his upper body tilted forward. Instinctively, he reached out to support himself. The fullness he felt made him feel a bit melancholic: If this body weren't mine, how much better would it be?
Men, they all wish to have such a figure, but not in this way.
Vincent crossed his arms. "I wonder how Bernadette is doing back in the Harry Potter world. Now that we've exchanged a bit, things should be fine, right?"
"Hmm?"
At that moment, his eyes fell on the Lu Ban lock on the desk. He froze: The lock had been solved somehow, and in the scattered pieces of wood was a black pocket watch.
No, it wasn't a pocket watch. It was a compass.
But this twelve-piece Lu Ban lock—normally, it would take at least several seconds to open it. How did it unlock itself? Or did someone break into the room last night and open it?
That would be impossible.
After all, someone capable of doing that wouldn't be so bored. Even Amon, who had the title of the "God of Mischief," wouldn't... wait, he actually could do something like that.
Just then, Vincent's mind went blank. Instinctively, he reached for the compass, but the moment his fingers were about to touch it, he snapped back to his senses and quickly withdrew his hand: Sealing items always have negative effects. Who knows what the side effects of this thing might be? Better not tempt fate.
"Huh? Something feels off with me."
Vincent quickly stepped back, distancing himself from the desk. "Was I affected by the compass?"
Could this thing also have a mind-affecting effect?
To be continued…