Slowly, but a Little Suddenly (4)

After several complications, Theorad finally boarded the carriage with the elf. As he'd promised, he meant to take her to the county square for a little sightseeing.

The trouble was that he had no idea what they were supposed to talk about on the way.

“……”

“……”

They sat on the carriage seat, both painfully aware of the other.

The elf occasionally glanced at Theorad while eating the snacks provided for the journey. Theorad had brought a slim book of poetry and pretended to read it with great concentration.

Naturally, he could take in none of the words.

Rumble, rattle—

The wheels sounded especially loud as they passed over the stone road. After nearly ten minutes of staring at the same page, Theorad closed the book. He had to do something about the silence.

In his experience, long stretches of silence with the elf seldom led anywhere good.

“You.”

He turned toward her, frowning out of habit.

“You insolent bitch. How long are you going to sit there stuffing yourself with sweets like a pig?”

“It's not like that.”

“Ah. Right.”

The insult had escaped him automatically. He was so accustomed to reviling her that he'd forgotten his promise: just for today, he was supposed to treat the elf as he treated Ashley.

Theorad coughed awkwardly. Even when he tried to start over, he couldn't think of anything to say. He'd agreed to treat her like Ashley, but he simply couldn't look at the elf in the same way.

Still, a promise was a promise. The only penalty for breaking their verbal agreement might be the burden on his conscience, but that was no small thing. He remembered the elf's stricken face when he'd struck her cheek. He couldn't excuse himself now by saying that kindness was impossible.

I can do this. No, I have to. Pull yourself together, Theorad!

One day of this peculiar role-playing was a small price for being forgiven. He gathered his resolve and smiled.

“Do you like sweets?”

“I don't dislike them.”

“Then perhaps you'll like candy, too.”

Thinking he'd found something they might have in common, Theorad drew out a wrapped sweet. A melon was pictured on its wrapper.

He offered it to her.

“It's very sweet and delicious. I'm sure you'll like it.”

“Is that so?”

The elf accepted it, puzzled by the sudden gift. Then a thought occurred to her.

“Master, do you like candy yourself? I don't believe I've ever seen you eating any.”

“The chief chamberlain wouldn't let me have much when I was younger. He worried about my teeth. Once I became head of the family, I had the authority to eat whatever I liked, but old habits are hard to shake. I still eat it in secret from time to time.”

“Authority… for candy?”

What sort of life had he led, that he talked about exercising authority over a single sweet? Being too good-natured was almost a disease.

The elf regarded him with something like pity, then unwrapped the candy and put it in her mouth. She rolled it across her tongue, letting the soft sweetness spread. It really was good.

She was just about to say so when the wheels slowed and scraped to a stop.

“We've arrived.”

Theorad straightened his clothes as the coachman opened the door and bowed.

“My lord, as you instructed me yesterday, I've stopped outside the Golden Chicken clothing store.”

A clothing store?

Wasn't the point of this outing to stroll around the square? The elf looked up in confusion, but Theorad answered the coachman as though everything were in order.

“Thank you. My slave and I will get out here. Bring the carriage around to the outskirts of the square and wait there.”

“As you wish, my lord.”

The coachman stepped aside. Theorad descended with a nobleman's measured dignity, and the elf followed him out.

Above them hung a colorful sign:

Golden Clothing Store

In smaller lettering underneath were the words Pet Products & Women's Clothing.

Surely not…

The elf stared at him. Theorad gave her an indulgent smile.

“You have only one maid's outfit. I thought some extra clothes would be useful.”

“…I don't need clothes.”

“Then perhaps jewelry? They sell accessories as well. There must be something here that you like.”

“Master…”

She understood what he was trying to do. That didn't mean she wanted it. Extravagance had never appealed much to her; after so many years, money and possessions had almost lost their attraction entirely.

She would have preferred simply to wander around the square. But she didn't say so. She'd already decided that, for today, she would go along with his choices.

“…Fine.”

Her flat voice hardly sounded enthusiastic. Theorad faltered, but he'd already contacted the shop the day before and reserved the entire place.

“Well, let's go in.”

He took her hand and opened the door.

Beyond it lay a spotless shop, with rows of carefully spaced clothing racks. The employees and the manager all bowed together.

“Welcome, Viscount Theorad!”

His hand trembled on the door handle. He'd asked to rent the shop, but hadn't expected all the employees to remain there alongside the manager. Had he imposed on them without considering their feelings?

The manager approached, smiling respectfully.

“It's an honor, my lord. Have you come to buy Lady Ashley a present? You were considerate enough to come discreetly and even reserve the entire shop…”

He snapped his fingers. Two employees wheeled over a rack filled with fashionable undergarments and corsets.

“These are the latest styles from the imperial capital. What do you think?”

“No…”

Theorad could scarcely look at the display. He shook his head and gestured toward the elf.

“I'm here to buy clothes for my maid. Please, don't go to such trouble.”

“Oh. For your maid?”

The manager appeared to understand quickly enough, though perhaps nobles rarely came in person to buy clothing for their servants. He looked the elf up and down.

“Forgive my forwardness, but your maid has quite a remarkable figure. Her bust in particular may make our ready-made sizes difficult. A custom order would be best.”

“…Would it?”

“Indeed. Even Lady Ashley has everything made to measure—”

He stopped, abruptly aware that bringing up the viscount's fiancée might have been tactless. He lowered his head.

“Forgive me. That was thoughtless of me.”

“Hm? Not at all. I knew Ashley shopped here. In fact, that's why I reserved this store. If a woman with her discerning eye favors it, I thought the clothes must be of good quality.”

Relief brightened the manager's face.

“Of course! We are the largest clothing shop in the county. We use the finest fabrics, and we follow the fashions of both the imperial capital and the principality…”

He went on for nearly ten minutes.

The elf grew increasingly impatient. At last, the manager seemed to notice and turned back to her apologetically.

“I've talked too long. Tell me what sort of clothes you prefer, miss, and I'll have them brought out at once.”

“Anything but clothes.”

“Ah! Jewelry, then? It's not our principal trade, but we do have a selection. I'll show it to you!”

At another snap of his fingers, the employees hurried forward with a display shelf.

The ornaments sparkled in orderly rows, but the elf felt no attraction to them.

Her attention went instead to a dusty dog collar tucked into a corner. Yet choosing that would probably put Theorad in an awkward position.

I don't have to make things difficult for him today…

She looked at the shelf above the collar and selected a slender black band with a little cat's-paw ornament.

“I'll take this.”

“A choker. An excellent choice. Would you like to try it on?”

She nodded, fastened it around her neck and adjusted the clasp.

Theorad studied her with anxious hope.

“Do you like it?”

She shook her head.

“…It's uncomfortable.”

The snug fit itself was tolerable. The material was rough against her skin.

The manager acknowledged her complaint as though he'd expected it.

“I see. I'm afraid we put more thought into its design and function than its comfort. We used Al-Qaera cloth, you see.”

“Al-Qaera cloth? You used something that expensive for jewelry?”

“Yes, to conceal the voice-recording magic inside the choker. When a person is making a recording, the other party mustn't notice the spell. Miss, would you press the cat's paw?”

The elf pressed the ornament firmly. A faint wave of mana spread out and vanished.

The magic hadn't stopped. The Al-Qaera cloth merely concealed its continuing activation. Even an elf skilled in magic might overlook it without paying careful attention.

“You see? It's recording now, but the mana is concealed,” the manager said. “It sounds wonderful, but…”

“The cloth is coarse on the outside,” Theorad observed. “It's bound to irritate sensitive skin.”

“Precisely, my lord. For that reason I wouldn't recommend it unless the purchaser has a particular need for its function.”

“Then please show her something else.”

“Of course, Viscount! Everyone, quickly!”

The staff rushed about under his direction.

They're suffering all this trouble because of me.

It was probably the presence of the head of House Deharem that made everyone so nervous. Feeling guilty, Theorad gave an awkward little smile.

“I'll wait outside. Please recommend something suitable to my maid.”

“Yes, my lord! Of course. But if I may…”

The manager glanced between them.

“May I ask what sort of relationship you have with her?”

Under ordinary circumstances Theorad would have brushed the question aside. Today, however, he had promised to treat the elf kindly. After a moment's thought, he answered quietly.

“She's a woman I especially like and cherish. Does that answer your question?”

The elf's eyes widened. She hadn't expected him to say anything like that.

She turned away to conceal her embarrassment. Theorad looked down at her calmly, then toward the door.

“When you've finished choosing, come outside. We'll see whether it suits you.”

His footsteps sounded unusually loud as he walked out.

Only after he was gone did the elf release the breath she'd been holding.

The employees brought out different styles of choker. The manager smiled and presented them.

“These are popular in the imperial capital, the principality and the kingdoms. If any catches your eye—”

“I don't want them.”

The manager blinked. Hadn't she just complained that the first one hurt her neck?

The elf touched the choker she was still wearing, pressed her lips together and asked:

“Did Master's words just now get recorded on this?”

“His words about liking and cherishing you? Certainly. The recording was running.”

“Then…”

Her pointed ears lowered slightly, warming with color.

“…I'll keep this one.”