Chapter 233 - 193: Cat Incarnation

Richard had been thinking about Friday all week.

On Thursday afternoon, after finishing his tutoring session with Mr. Hutton, he went home and tidied his room from top to bottom.

The notebooks, reference books, and Rubbing Copies that were usually piled high on his desk were all sorted and filed away in his drawers.

Any materials on his bookshelf that might attract unwanted attention were hidden away on the bottom shelf.

The Sphinx Lamp was rewrapped in three layers of old flannel and placed in the hidden compartment under his bed.

The Gargoyle was covered with an oilcloth and moved to the very back of the wardrobe.

Anything that couldn’t be seen by guests had to be hidden away.

Evelyn peeked in while he was tidying his room.

"Brother, why are you cleaning your room so meticulously today?"

"A new semester calls for a fresh start." Richard shoved a stack of books onto the bottom shelf. "No one else is going to clean up after me, so I have to do it myself."

"But you were eating at your desk just last week."

"...Last week was different."

"How was it different?"

"It was cold last week."

Evelyn frowned but didn’t press the issue.

On Friday morning, Richard performed his routine weather Divination and predicted that it might snow in the afternoon.

After breakfast, he went to Greenwood as usual.

During the second period, Mr. Hutton was lecturing on a fragment of a sacrificial text from the Roman era.

When Richard raised his hand to answer a question, he mispronounced a syllable in the Latin word for "dusk."

The old man paused for a moment.

"Richard, you seem a bit out of sorts today."

"My apologies, sir."

"Didn’t you sleep well last night?"

"...A little."

The old man glanced at him but didn’t press the matter.

When class ended, the old man walked over from the lectern.

"Go home early today. No need for tutoring."

"All right."

Richard packed his books into his bag.

The bell rang for the last class of the afternoon.

He followed his classmates out the school gate. Grey caught up from behind and handed him an oil-paper package.

"Something for the road."

"Thanks."

"You look a little pale today."

"I’m fine."

"...Okay."

She didn’t ask any more questions.

Richard took the school bus back to Waste Rock Lane.

He got home just after five-thirty.

Back in his bedroom, he pulled the door closed but didn’t slide the bolt.

’The state of the doors and windows had to follow the instructions on the card.’

The window was to be closed, but with a finger-width gap left open.

He deliberately flipped his notebook to a blank page and placed his fountain pen beside it.

The notebook and pen were meant to send a signal to Lady Mary: ’I am prepared to listen attentively.’

If he needed to jot something down tonight, he couldn’t just rush to a drawer and start rummaging.

As for the white porcelain cup on the windowsill... Richard was about to go downstairs to see about it when his bedroom door was pushed open.

"Brother." Evelyn poked her head through the gap in the door.

She came in, carrying a cup of milk.

"You wanted warm milk?"

"...Yeah."

The young girl wanted to use the delivery as an excuse to ask a few more concerned questions, but their Mother’s voice called from downstairs:

"Evelyn, come chop the onions!"

"Coming!"

His sister made a face at him, pulled the door shut, and ran downstairs.

Richard let out a breath and glanced at the pocket watch on his desk. Five fifty-five.

The snow fell softly over Waste Rock Lane.

It landed on the tin eaves outside the window, creating a continuous, faint tapping sound.

At six o’clock sharp, Richard was sitting at his desk.

There was no movement outside the window.

The streetlights were on. A horse-drawn coal cart passed through Waste Rock Lane, its wheels creaking as they rolled over the snow.

At 6:03, voices came from downstairs.

"Mother!"

"What is it?"

"I need the butter tonight!"

"There’s still half a pound in the cupboard. I saved it for you."

"Okay."

Richard’s gaze shifted from his desk to the windowsill.

The milk in the cup was no longer warm. He debated whether he should go reheat it or just keep waiting.

’Lady Mary is a Grand Mastery, after all. Surely she wouldn’t stand me up?’

He wasn’t so sure.

At 6:05, just as Richard was about to get up and take the cup...

The surface of the milk rippled.

The window was open only a crack, a gap Richard himself had checked to ensure no draft could get in.

Richard didn’t move. The surface of the milk rippled again.

This time, a curved mark appeared on the rim of the cup.

Richard’s eyes fixed on the side of the cup. He did not activate his Spiritual Vision.

According to Mrs. MacNeil, it was incredibly rude to stare at someone with Spiritual Vision.

The position and shape of the curved mark were exactly what would be left by the lick of a cat’s tongue.

And yet, there was nothing above the cup.

Goosebumps broke out on the back of his neck.

The Light Tree Leaves inside his chest were vibrating at a higher frequency than usual.

[Perception] Lv. 2 activated automatically, clearly revealing the Ether Density in the room.

Throughout the entire room, from floor to ceiling, the overall Ether Density was slightly higher than normal.

The highest concentration was in a circular area, less than a foot in radius, just above the windowsill.

"Hello, Little Richard."

The voice resounded in his head.

It was a woman’s voice—gentle, with a slight rasp.

Richard steadied the rhythm of the Light Tree in his chest.

"Hello, Lady Mary."

He kept his voice low, not wanting it to carry downstairs or to the next room.

"You aren’t afraid?"

"I am a little afraid," Richard admitted honestly.

"That’s good." The voice was tinged with amusement.

"Someone who feels no fear at all can’t last long in this line of work."

In the circular area less than a foot in radius above the windowsill, something began to materialize.

First, a slender, curved line appeared—a spine.

Four paws in a sitting posture, then upright ears with tufted tips that curled slightly.

A black cat was perched on the windowsill.

It was a size larger than the common shorthairs of Waste Rock Lane, though not as big as a Maine Coon Cat.