Slowly, but a Little Suddenly (5)

Outside the clothing store, Theorad adjusted the brooch on his chest and looked out across the square.

Near the great fountain that symbolized the wealth of Pelgaroin County stood a stone structure resembling a triumphal arch. Part of its pillars had been fashioned from pure magic stone, a sight that impressed him every time he saw it.

It was said to have been built before the Imperial University Mage Tower itself was founded. The structure had gone by many names over the centuries, but lately most people called it a warp gate.

Through a gate, a traveler could be transported almost instantly to another gate of the same construction, regardless of distance. A magic circle with coordinates fixed in advance could also be used for a return journey.

Naturally, Theorad seldom used it. The materials needed to activate either the gate or its magic circle were tremendously expensive.

The structure itself cost such an extraordinary sum to build that few places possessed one. There were gates associated with imperial administration, at the border facing the Demon Lord's lands, and here in the Pelgaroin county square.

Having a warp gate in one's territory was as clear a declaration of a noble house's power and wealth as any monument.

While Theorad was contemplating the grandeur of House Pelgaroin, the door of the shop opened and the elf emerged.

The black choker with its cat's-paw ornament was still around her neck.

“Didn't you say that was uncomfortable?”

She didn't answer. She simply stared straight ahead. Her ears were unusually red, though Theorad failed to notice.

What is she looking at?

He followed her gaze. There was nothing particularly strange in that direction—only street vendors selling waffles to children and couples.

Does she want a waffle?

It seemed reasonable enough. She'd eaten the carriage snacks and his candy with obvious enjoyment, and she'd once stolen pudding without showing any particular remorse.

Buying her a waffle would be easy. But why not just ask me?

The shy silence was unlike her. Was it another part of her performance?

Before he could finish puzzling it out, the elf drew a breath and looked up.

“Master. Are you really sure?”

“Of course. A waffle is hardly beyond my means.”

“…A waffle?”

She blinked at him.

“That's not what I mean. This choker is made of Al-Qaera cloth. It's expensive. The bill will reach Deharem Manor soon, and I'm asking whether you will regret spending that much on a slave.”

“Oh, is that all? Don't worry about the money. The imperial family's reward was substantial. We can afford a little extravagance for now.”

“Aren't you going to save it?”

Since when has she worried about the family finances?

Coming from the elf, who had come close to ruining his family's standing, the question was almost absurd. But there was little point in getting angry.

“I'd already saved enough to keep the household running for the next five years, even before the imperial payment arrived. When that much unexpected money comes in, isn't it only right to give something back?”

“Give something back?”

“I've already donated about half the reward to people in need. It was quite a sum, so the chamberlain had a great deal of work arranging it.”

“That makes no sense. The same money could have made your house more prosperous.”

“You're right that my family's prosperity makes me happy. But there's another side to it.”

Theorad looked across the square.

A boy in a patched jacket held his sister's hand as they walked toward a jewelry shop. The girl's dirty hands held an expensive ornament, one of the items the chief chamberlain had distributed the other day.

“Giving can make other people happy, too. If I keep everything, the happiness is mine alone. If I set aside a little greed, many more people can be happy.”

He wasn't handing out the family's possessions without thought. He had kept what was needed for its continued security and development, and gave surplus wealth to those less fortunate.

Even so, the elf didn't understand.

More precisely, she couldn't bear to see Theorad taking such sincere pleasure in helping others.

You weren't like this…

In her recollection of their brief encounter long ago, he had been a villain of some kind. That belief had given her the resolve to make a promise. She had believed she would win, that one day she could lay aside her guilt and wipe humans and demons from the world.

But why do you keep…?

The memories she had always trusted no longer fitted together. Each new act—from the rain magic to this donation—made her certainty feel like a broken mirror.

Had Theorad really meant what he'd said when he was only five years old?

The child she remembered had been…

A good child.

The thought unsettled her. What if the thing she'd taken as absolute truth was wrong?

What if…?

A large hand appeared before her. She looked up to find Theorad smiling.

“Here. Take my hand. We might as well get some waffles while we're in the square.”

“…You don't need to hold my hand. I'm not a child.”

“Ah, of course. I didn't mean to treat you like one. I'm sorry.”

He started to draw his hand back.

The elf caught it before he could. Her fingers closed firmly around his.

“Only for today…”

Theorad smiled and nodded. It might be just one day of peace, but he couldn't say he disliked her manner today.

---

Meanwhile, at Count Pelgaroin's castle, Ashley sat writing at a desk by her bedroom window.

Her expression was composed and her hand moved steadily across the paper. She had altered her handwriting, and the letter she wrote read like an affectionate note.

My lovely lark,

I understand what you mean when you say the lion is the most frightening of animals.

Don't worry. I spoke to the lion, and it says that larks aren't prey.

They're too troublesome to catch, and there's no reason to risk getting hurt over one. On the contrary, the lion even said it would welcome a lark cleaning its teeth.

A lion isn't a crocodile, after all. What a ridiculous sort of partnership that would be!

So there's no need to be so anxious. If another lion appears in your dreams, send me a letter. I'll make sure my lovely lark hears what the lion has to say.

When she'd finished, Ashley laid down her pen.

The altered hand and the love-letter language would disguise her real meaning should the message be intercepted. She couldn't afford carelessness. Contacting the rebels and taking part in Princess Benelia's plan could both be judged treason.

Brother Fred will understand what I'm trying to say.

No one casually observing the letter could be expected to grasp it.

Ashley checked what she'd written once more, rolled up the paper, and went to the birdcage in her room. She took out a carrier pigeon, secured the message to its leg, and moved to the window.

She released the bird. With a flutter of wings, it rose into the air and flew away.

Ashley watched it for a while.

Then a sudden gust stirred the air, and a witch's hat swept into view.

“Oh…!”

She drew back in surprise. A witch on a flying broom rose into sight and gave her a mischievous smile.

It was Dremes, who ran an adult-goods shop and led a poison-related association.

“My lady, why the troubled face?”

“Dremes? What are you doing here?”

“Why else? Your distinguished family has a customer who accounts for a good portion of my sales.”

Maldon.

Ashley sighed.

“When will Brother Maldon come to his senses? It's hardly conduct befitting a noble—”

She checked herself.

“I didn't mean that there was anything wrong with your shop. I only meant…”

“Never mind. You've said nothing unreasonable. What sort of son of a respectable noble family has sex with slaves every single day?”

Dremes clicked her tongue at the thought of Maldon.

“Judging by what he buys, he seems to use every toy on his slaves. It's good business for me, but his behavior deserves criticism. Once, when I visited his room, there was an unconscious slave with traces of bodily fluids around her intimate parts—”

Dremes broke off.

Ashley had gone bright red and was clutching the hem of her skirt.

And they call her the perfect young lady…

It was almost amusing how thoroughly even the mention of something obscene embarrassed her. In that respect, she was perhaps even more innocent than Theorad.

Those two really are made for each other.

Dremes chuckled, swung her pack around and took out two books. Her talk of Maldon had been incidental; she was here to sell something.

“Enough blushing. Have a look at these.”

Ashley raised her head.

“What are they?”

“Location notebooks. Think of them as a way for two people to exchange messages.”

Ashley knew the devices. They were special books issued by the Witches' Association. By channeling magic into their pages, users could connect to a witches' communication network and converse at a distance.

Users appeared anonymously, so their identities weren't shown.

They had fewer features than the crystal balls used by the Mage Tower and imperial family, which could even carry images, but for correspondence the notebooks were more than sufficient.

There was one difficulty. The books were regulated.

Only users approved by the Witches' Association were supposed to operate them. Unapproved copies were illegal.

Why would Dremes, who had such a poor relationship with the Association, have them?

“I stole them when I stopped by the Weaving Turbulence,” Dremes said with a shrug. “They had so many in stock they won't notice one or two missing.”

“…Isn't that a crime?”

“We're even. They treated me like dirt first. So, will you buy them or not? You could keep in touch with Theorad even when you're far away.”

“But it's illegal—”

“Then I suppose you don't want them.”

Dremes put the books away and pretended to leave. Ashley sprang forward and caught the hem of the witch's skirt.

It was hardly a dignified thing for a count's daughter to do, but she wouldn't let the chance slip away. She looked up at Dremes, blue eyes wavering.

“You must keep this secret from everyone…”

Her face burned with embarrassment.

“…Because I'll buy them.”