Memory (3)

The elf stared at Theorad in disbelief.

Her red eyes widened. Her lips parted, then went still. The look on her face might have belonged to someone who had just learned the world would end tomorrow.

“…Master?”

Theorad regarded her as though he could not understand the maid's distress.

Havid, who had witnessed the exchange, stepped forward uneasily.

“My lord. I'm afraid you may have suffered some loss of memory—”

He stopped. The elf was shaking her head at him, her expression unmistakable.

Let me handle it.

Havid could not imagine how she intended to resolve a problem of this magnitude. But he chose to trust her.

“Chamberlain? Why did you stop?” Theorad asked.

“…It's nothing, my lord. This young woman is a maid I took on a few days ago and trained myself. She's ready to begin her duties today and hopes to serve you personally.”

The tension among the household staff eased as they understood the deception. Theorad, too, seemed satisfied with Havid's improvised explanation.

“I see. I suppose I should have been told earlier, but never mind.”

He turned to the elf with his usual gentle smile.

“Is today your first day working at the mansion?”

She hesitated, then nodded. Until she could speak to him alone, she would have to go along with the lie.

“Please look after me, Master.”

“Of course. I hope we'll get along. There's a great deal I ought to tell you about this place. But first…”

He patted his stomach with a sheepish smile.

“I'm rather hungry. Would you care to join me for a meal?”

She had every reason to accept. A chance to talk to him in private might soon be hers.

“Yes.”

Her answer sounded unusually determined. Theorad took her hand and led her inside, slowing his pace to match her steps.

---

They entered the mansion's dining room and sat together at the table. Theorad sent the household staff back to their duties and asked the cook to bring their meals, leaving the two of them alone.

He adjusted his brooch, neatly folded back his sleeves, and smiled at the elf. When she shifted nervously, he assumed she was simply worried about her new position.

“There's no need to be anxious. The work isn't especially difficult, and everyone here is kind. Unless you make a dreadful mistake, you'll be treated well. Though I suppose we have our eccentrics.”

He laughed softly.

“One of our household knights is Beynon. He's an odd fellow, especially when it comes to secretly eating the mansion's sweets. But I know few men more deserving of the name knight. You can trust him.”

The elf said nothing.

“And there's Havid, who trained you. He can be severe, particularly when he wants every little thing done perfectly. But he means well. Then there's…”

Theorad faltered. A lonely smile appeared on his face.

“There was someone else I wanted you to meet. She was stranger than Beynon and more stubborn than Havid. At first I disliked her. Later I realized how much she had suffered, and how many tears she kept hidden.”

“She was someone I ought to have cared for, someone I meant to protect for the rest of my life. Someone I should never have forgotten. And yet…”

He looked down, stricken by his own helplessness.

“No matter how I try, I can't remember her. That oblivion monster must have devoured my memories. What a fool I am.”

“Master…”

“I know. I need to bring in an astrologer. Someone skilled in examining the mind might be able to recover what I've lost. Surely…”

The elf bit her lip. Now she understood what had happened.

Theorad still remembered the woman he had cared for. What he had lost was her identity, the connection between those memories and the person standing in front of him. The fragments remained, but they could no longer fit together.

Under ordinary circumstances, it should have been simple to recognize her from the clues around him. But the oblivion monster's magic had slipped into him without his knowledge. Its influence did more than steal memories; it interfered with the mind's ability to recognize what it knew. Left to himself, Theorad would be unable to identify her.

I can fix this.

She did not need an astrologer. Restoring the stolen memories would be easy enough for an elf of her power.

But restoring them would also reveal everything she had kept hidden about their childhood. The tricks, the misunderstandings, the wagers she had encouraged for selfish reasons—Theorad would know it all.

Could he forgive her? Would she still have a place beside him once he understood?

I don't know…

The uncertainty seemed to close around her throat. Her fingers tightened on her skirt until the fabric wrinkled.

“Here we are! Sorry to keep you waiting!”

The cook entered carrying a large platter and set their meal before them. It was a carefully grilled steak with onions, tomatoes, and asparagus.

“Enjoy your meal,” the cook said, wiping his hands on his apron before leaving them alone.

Theorad reached for his knife, then paused. The elf was staring at her plate without touching it.

Does she not know how to eat it?

Her pointed ears reminded him that she had come from among the elves of the great forest. Perhaps she was unused to meat.

He reached across and cut her steak into small pieces with practiced movements.

“There. You can eat it a little at a time. But if you don't eat meat, tell me. I'll ask the cook to bring something else—or make you something myself.”

“Ah… That's not…”

“Can you eat meat?”

“Yes. It isn't my favorite, but I don't mind it.”

“Good. Then let's eat.”

The elf took up her fork, unable to refuse his thoughtfulness. Satisfied, Theorad began his own meal.

For some ten minutes, the room was quiet except for the sound of cutlery. When they had finished, Theorad wiped his mouth with a handkerchief.

“Did you enjoy it?”

She had scarcely tasted a bite. Her thoughts were tangled with fear for him and disgust at her own deception. But she could not bear the disappointment he might feel if she told him so.

“It was delicious.”

“I'm glad. I wasn't certain it would suit you. Shall we have dessert?”

“…Dessert?”

She had never known him to make much of dessert. Theorad glanced around as though guarding a secret, then leaned closer.

“Something very special. Come with me.”

He led her into the kitchen and approached a familiar chest of drawers. From its upper shelf he retrieved a small box. When he opened the lid, the box was filled with brightly colored candies.

Theorad selected a green one and offered it to her.

“Here. It's my favorite flavor.”

The elf stared at the candy in surprise.

“But Master, shouldn't you have one too?”

“Not today. If I take two, Havid will notice and lecture me.”

He replaced the lid and returned the box to its hiding place.

She looked down at the candy resting in her palm. Theorad was permitted only one a day. He had given up one of his small pleasures for a maid he believed he had met only that morning.

She put it into her mouth. Melon. The sweetness held a faint tartness that made it more pleasant still.

Heavy footsteps sounded outside the kitchen.

“Oh no!” Theorad whispered.

If they were caught, Havid would scold him, and innocent servants might be blamed for letting him pilfer the sweets. Theorad caught the elf by the arm and drew her behind a wooden cabinet.

“…!”

She stumbled into his embrace. He held her close, one arm against her back, and went perfectly still.

“My lord? I thought I heard…”

It was the cook. After a puzzled pause, the footsteps receded. Theorad exhaled with relief and looked down at the elf.

But she could not look up. Her heart was pounding so fiercely that her face had gone crimson.

He mistook her distress for fear of being caught and chuckled softly.

“Well? Was the dessert good?” he whispered near her ear.

The elf pressed a hand against his chest and struggled to steady her breathing.

“Yes, Master…”

The candy tasted sweeter than anything she could remember. For a moment, she wished she never had to leave his arms.