The next day.
The sky above Naicalis, the Demon King's Castle, remained a deep, velvety blue; dawn was not far off.
Around five o'clock, the light outside began to shift.
By the bay of Lis Island, inside a small wooden cottage whose ivy-covered walls revealed flashes of beige beneath the lush green, Lysandra slowly sat up in bed behind the bedroom curtains.
"Haaah."
Her sleepy eyes were slightly dazed as she scratched her messy dark hair.
One glance at the clock sent her tumbling out of bed in a panic. She scrambled to wash up and change, only realizing after she had finally smoothed down her long hair that she could have slept in a bit today—Mr. McCarthy had promised yesterday to give her a ride to the royal palace.
Still, she hadn't known if Mr. McCarthy would be too busy with business to drive her, so she had originally planned to wake up at her usual time just to be safe.
Now all she could do was pray that Mr. McCarthy had time to spare today.
Straightening her coat and picking up her bag, she hurriedly stepped out of the cottage.
Strange, jagged clouds drifted across the horizon, buffeted by a faint morning breeze.
Normally, past five in the morning in July, the sky would have already begun turning blue, but today it appeared exceptionally dark and gloomy.
Lysandra had intended to stop by the mansion next door to ask how best to find Mr. McCarthy quickly, but to her surprise, the moment she locked her door, she saw an amber-colored magical vehicle already parked outside her yard.
It was that familiar face from yesterday, leaning back in the driver's seat and gazing up at the starry night sky that had yet to fade.
Perhaps he was out confirming which portion of the Demon Realm's sky belonged to him, or perhaps he was watching the faint blue glow emanating from the royal palace across the bay.
The waning moon still illuminated the thicket of trees. The garden of the mansion next door was already brightly lit despite it being only five or six in the morning, though the laughter and bustle of the previous night were long gone.
The luminous markings on McCarthy's handsome face looked like delicate flower petals, and his hair was so smooth it seemed trimmed every week.
Lysandra couldn't sense the slightest hint of malice from him; he merely sat there in silence, gazing across the water.
Perhaps it was because he didn't drink a drop of alcohol, standing in stark contrast to the guests at the palace-restaurant yesterday: the merrier and louder everyone drank and laughed, the more dignified and solemn he appeared.
It suddenly occurred to Lysandra that perhaps every morning, McCarthy stood beneath his palace, gazing toward a streak of aurora across the bay as if trying to grasp something—and on that far shore lay the pure sanctuary of his heart.
Soon enough, McCarthy noticed Lysandra's approach.
Out of courtesy, McCarthy stepped out of the vehicle and bowed to her.
Lysandra quickly nodded and hurried over.
"Um, sir, were you waiting for me?" Lysandra couldn't help asking.
"I only arrived a moment ago. Seems our timing is quite fortunate," Lanqi replied with a smile, hands in his pockets as he turned around.
Lysandra nodded and followed the gesture of Lanqi's hand, slipping into the passenger seat.
Under normal circumstances, she would most likely have been late, but with Mr. McCarthy giving her a lift today, she had plenty of time to spare.
She had the distinct feeling he had been waiting for a long time, even though he claimed he had just arrived.
"Will we need to transfer to a sea-going magic apparatus later?" Lysandra asked him.
The streamlined magical vehicle she and McCarthy were riding was amber-hued—as lovely as the princess's eyes—with long, elegant lines. Inside were compartments for hats and coats, food boxes, and tool kits, while the layered windshield refracted the overlapping lights of the streetlamps, perfectly matching her idea of how a tycoon would travel.
"No need. It can drive straight over the water," Lanqi answered comfortably.
He skillfully stepped on the accelerator, and the vehicle accelerated along the road toward the coast.
Once again, Lysandra felt the sheer power of wealth.
She had originally imagined McCarthy to be an enigmatic, legendary demon, but that impression was gradually fading; she was now more inclined to view him simply as a wealthy neighbor.
He was extraordinary, yet not quite extraordinary in the way she had pictured.
Still, sharing the ride gradually made Lysandra feel a bit awkward.
She had impulsively agreed yesterday to let him drive her to work.
In reality, their relationship was hardly close enough for this.
At best, they were demons who had only just met.
Having already received his hospitality, she was troubling him for another favor.
Now, alone together, she found herself at a loss for words.
"Miss Lysandra, what kind of demon do you take me for?"
Noticing out of the corner of his eye that Lysandra was clutching her handbag a little tighter in her awkwardness, Lanqi took the initiative to break the silence.
"I think... you're a very kind demon. Much warmer than I expected, with none of the usual aristocratic arrogance," Lysandra could only reply.
"I really wouldn't want you to misunderstand me because of idle gossip. There may be plenty of rumors circulating about me in Naicalis lately, but you know how gossip works—every time it's repeated, it shifts a little, until in the end it bears almost no resemblance to the truth," Lanqi said, hands on the steering wheel.
Lysandra nodded.
Evidently, McCarthy had also heard the various rumors discussed by the demons around his palace-restaurant.
"Were you really a spy during the war?" Lysandra asked curiously.
"You could say that, but not quite in the way the rumors put it," Lanqi admitted.
"Then... did you attend Purgatory Corridor Academy?"
Lysandra had not expected McCarthy to admit to it, and her curiosity was piqued. Perhaps this was something the princess might be interested in. After all, the princess had once been a student at Purgatory Corridor Academy, even though she had ultimately left before graduating and fled to the human realm.
"Of course. Though... that too isn't quite how the rumors describe it."
As he spoke, Lanqi glanced at Lysandra from time to time.
This left Lysandra unable to tell whether McCarthy was lying or not. His hesitant manner suggested he harbored unspeakable secrets, yet she could faintly detect a strangely deep affection for that academy in his voice.
"Which class were you in? Who was the headmaster back then?" Lysandra asked casually.
All she needed to do was check with the princess to verify the truth of McCarthy's words.
"Uh, that was twenty years ago..." Lanqi's voice grew uncharacteristically hesitant.
"..."
Lysandra tried her best to suppress a smile.
His fabricated excuse was so cliché that she couldn't bear to press him any further.
After that, they chatted about how he built his business from scratch and other matters. What he described was vastly different from what Lysandra had heard at the restaurant the previous night, yet it wasn't hard to tell that McCarthy's personal account was indeed the original version that spawned those rumors—without this foundation, those wild tales could never have arisen.
Even so, she realized that Mr. McCarthy had no intention of deceiving her from start to finish. His remarks were measured and cautious; perhaps he was only humoring these rumors at his own expense just to help her relax.
Talking with McCarthy was indeed effortless; he seemed naturally attuned to the feelings of the friends around him.
An ordinary girl would probably have fallen for him in no time.
But Lysandra knew her own place, and she could feel that McCarthy's kindness toward her was purely benevolent, without any regard for whether she was male or female.
Of course, precisely because of McCarthy's naturally unpresuming demeanor, if the day ever came when he truly fell in love and showered a girl with every ounce of care, that girl would probably tell herself not to get ahead of herself and mistake love for simple friendship.
Chapter 569