[V10C3] Adult Bocchama (One Year Difference)

Monica had a dream where she was chasing after Nero.

“Nero, Nero, wait up!”

Monica desperately pursued the black cat, but also understood in the back of her mind that this was nothing more than a dream.

After all, the location kept changing for no reason. She had been chasing Nero through her home in Sazandol, and the next moment, she noticed that they were in Serendia Academy.

Along with the change in scenery, Monica’s clothes reverted from her recently purchased casual wear to Serendia’s school uniform.

“Cyril-sama is angry right now,” Monica explained. “But he’ll put on a smile once he touches your paw pads.”

Nero paused and glanced back at Monica, before running off again.

“Wait, please!” Monica frowned and continued to chase after Nero.

Since this was a dream, Monica never ran out of breath, but she still had her usual clumsy gait.

The beautiful gardens of Serendia Academy gradually turned into a mountain path. Monica knew where this was. It was the path that led to the cabin where she used to live.

Again, Monica noticed that her clothes had changed. She was now in her Sage robes.

Since this was before Lana remade her robes, Monica ran along the mountain path while dragging the hem of her oversized robes.

They eventually reached the mountain cabin, and Nero darted through the open door.

“Nero!”

Monica followed him through the door, finding herself not in the dusty mountain cabin, but back in the mountains.

Unlike the mountain path from earlier, this was a mountain in early summer. Monica recognized this location as well.

——The Worgan Mountain Range.

Before her stood a black dragon, staring right at her with wings spread wide.

The creature’s black scales glistened in the sunlight, and its golden eyes shone bright. It possessed a body big enough to easily crush her underfoot.

“…Nero?”

The black dragon opened its huge maw and let out a roar. Followed by…

＊　＊　＊

A swoosh sound entered her ears. Rather than the roar of a dragon, this was the sound of someone opening the curtains.

Monica felt the dazzling sunlight through her closed eyelids. It was morning.

(…What was I dreaming about again?)

The contents of her dream had almost completely faded from her head. Only one thing, the silhouette of a black dragon spreading its wings, was inexplicably burned into her memory.

(I wonder if Nero is staying home properly.)

Before returning home to Sazandol, Monica had to head back to the capital for the selection process of the new Sage candidate. She also wanted to see Cecilia and Karina again, if possible… but these thoughts were interrupted by the sound of rustling clothes.

“Good morning, Silent Witch-dono.”

Monica lifted her heavy eyelids to see the expressionless face of a beautiful maid taking up her entire field of view. Needless to say, this was the wind spirit Rynzbelfied in human form.

Ryn, who had been peering into Monica’s face, slowly backed away as Monica blinked a few times in confusion.

“…Good morning, Ryn-san.”

Monica got out from the sheets and rose from the bed, only to realize that she was wearing a nightgown.

She had no memory of changing into this. Moreover, she hardly remembered anything about what happened after she returned to the mansion following the magical dedication.

(Um, so I came back to the mansion, drank some hot milk with butter, then…)

Monica pressed her temple and traced her memories, until Ryn interjected with a question.

“Do you remember what happened yesterday, Silent Witch-dono?”

“Um, not much…”

“You consumed milk with alcohol, became intoxicated, and after engaging in peculiar behavior, proceeded to undress. Thus, I wrapped you in a tablecloth and took you to your room.”

Monica was still groggy, so Ryn’s matter-of-fact tone was pleasant to the ears, but the content of her words was another matter entirely.

After dropping her jaw for a few seconds, Monica started trembling.

“D-Did… Did anyone see me doing that…?”

“I retrieved you with great haste, so only a few people witnessed your indiscretions. These include Elliott-bocchama, Benjamin Mordin-sama, a few of the mansion’s servants…”

Oh no, she had inconvenienced Elliott again. Monica held her head in her hands, until an even more troubling name entered her ears.

“And also Cyril Ashley-dono.”

“…Huh?”

“The heir of Marquis Highown, Cyril Ashley-dono.”

Monica’s vision went completely white for a moment. Apparently, she had a brief lapse of consciousness.

The only sounds coming from her wide-open jaw were choked sobs.

(Cyril-sama was here…? And he saw my indiscretions…? Cyril-sama…)

Monica wanted nothing more than to turn off her brain and go back to sleep. However, this was Elliott’s mansion, and her job required her to greet Elliott and immediately return to the capital.

“Um, Ryn-san…”

“Yes?”

“How did Cyril-sama, um… react?”

“He seemed extremely angry and was eager to express his displeasure.”

Unfortunately, this question resulted in a subtle misunderstanding between Monica and Ryn.

Monica was asking for Cyril’s reaction to her indiscretions, but Ryn did not fully understand the nuances of human emotion, so she answered by describing Cyril’s behavior towards herself.

Hearing this, Monica flopped back onto the bed, sobbing with despair.

(Cyril-sama was angry at me… Really angry… How am I supposed to show my face to him now…!?)

Monica had an easy time imagining a displeased Cyril looking down on her with disdain.

Even though this was the man she liked, his angry face was more ingrained into her memory than any of his other faces.

＊　＊　＊

Elliott took a seat at the breakfast table, sipping coffee while waiting for Monica.

His job as the lord involved entertaining guests until late last night, so he was still thoroughly exhausted.

Only Cyril and a few other guests were present when he returned to the mansion, but the rest quickly flooded in. All of them praised the magnificence of the magical dedication.

Some made a mention of Elliott’s youthful (and embarrassing) behavior, but it generally became a topic of laughter. Of course, that didn’t stop Elliott from being extremely reluctant to talk about it.

Today’s schedule had him attending various events throughout town, and Elliott wanted to bring along the main stars, Benjamin and Monica, but both were incredibly busy.

Benjamin, with a tinge of regret, had already boarded the first carriage of the morning and headed to his next performance venue. Monica was also scheduled to return to the capital immediately after breakfast.

Right as Elliott started thinking about what souvenirs to give Monica, the door creaked open. He turned to see Monica peeking at him from behind the door, a nostalgic scene from their Serendia Academy days.

Elliott was about to ask what in the world she was doing, before he recalled Monica’s disgraceful behavior from yesterday.

He had been discussing the Silent Witch’s miraculous feat with the guests for so long that Monica’s shameful display had almost slipped from his memory.

Elliott set down his coffee cup and lifted the corner of his mouth into a smirk.

“You really surprised me yesterday. Never thought you’d end up like that when drunk.”

“Uh, um, Howard-sama. W-What exactly did I do yesterday…?”

“You don’t remember?”

Monica nodded, though her face was only partially visible behind the door. This prompted Elliott to deepen his smile.

“I see. So you have no memory of doing… that with Cyril.”

Monica widened her eyes in shock and began twiddling her fingers.

“N-No way… Did I, by any chance, start explaining unsolved math problems and magical formulas to Cyril-sama…?”

Not quite, but she did perform a passionate explanation of paw pads.

Elliott casually shook his head while deliberately avoiding eye contact.

“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly say it out loud.”

“W-What…!?”

Monica groaned and held her head, but eventually, she came up with something and lifted her face to look at Elliott again.

This unexpected reaction gave Elliott a bit of surprise. In these situations, Monica would usually start shaking and go completely pale. But right now, her face had inexplicably turned red.

“Um, Howard-sama. Did I… e-engage in, um, physical contact with Cyril-sama…?”

Physical contact. An interesting choice of words, but Elliott could guess what she really meant.

(Wondering if she ended up hugging or kissing Cyril under the influence of alcohol, huh?)

Apparently, the situation had become very interesting in the past few years!

Elliott covered his mouth to suppress the grin, as Monica continued her plea with teary eyes.

“D-Did I, um, ask to hold his hand or touch his hair…?”

“Oh, that’s what you meant? Nevermind then,” Elliott responded in a disinterested tone.

“…?”

Most of Monica’s drunken physical contact was directed at Elliott, and it was primarily in search of his non-existent paw pads.

(Nevertheless, if we consider Cyril’s violent reaction… This can only mean one thing, right?)

Elliott withdrew his teasing tone, putting on a solemn and mature expression as he made a suggestion.

“I know. Why don’t you just ask Cyril the same thing you asked me?”

Rather than a response, Monica only let out a deflated groan.

Elliott sipped his coffee with a satisfied expression, as the blonde maid behind Monica interjected.

“Elliott-bocchama, if you keep bullying girls, you might end up as a pitiful adult who causes his beloved daughter to cry whenever he approaches, and has never been able to carry her.”

“…Why does that example sound so specific?”

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