Memory (4)
Theorad's arms were warm. The elf wanted to remain there, in the little shelter they had found behind the kitchen cabinet, for as long as she could.
Could I be selfish for just a moment? Just this once…
“Now that the cook's gone…”
She drew closer instead of stepping away. Resting her ear against Theorad's chest, she slowly relaxed her hands. The beat of his heart seemed impossibly near.
But the moment could not last. Theorad no longer remembered her. Why would a master understand the sudden affection of a maid he believed he had only just met?
Even so, he neither rebuked her nor pushed her aside. Perhaps his innate kindness told him that she had some reason for clinging to him.
“Stupid Theorad.”
The words were too soft for him to hear. She stepped back at last, remorse clouding her red eyes.
“Master, may I ask you a favor?”
“A favor?”
The elf lifted her face. Her lips trembled.
“I'm the master's…”
I'm the woman you've been looking for. I can help you recover the memories you lost.
It was such a simple truth. Yet she could not say it.
If he remembered everything, he would remember her selfishness as well. She was afraid he would hate her. The words retreated, and a lie took their place.
“…May I see your room?”
“Your room? You mean my room?”
The request puzzled him. At first he seemed inclined to refuse, but then he considered that the new maid would eventually have to clean it. There could be little harm in showing it to her ahead of time.
“Very well. Come along.”
They entered Theorad's private room. Beneath an old-fashioned chandelier stood fine wooden furnishings, carefully chosen rather than lavish. The elf knew the room well, though seeing it now felt strangely different.
“As you can see,” Theorad said, closing the door, “I try to keep things tidy. There's little to do beyond dusting and mopping, but the room is large enough to make the work tiring.”
He glanced at her kindly.
“If you are ever assigned to clean it for a month, let me know. I'll see how you do, and if you've worked well, I'll give you a reward.”
“…A reward?”
“Why shouldn't good work be recognized? If there's something you need, you can tell me. Maltao once received a fine bottle of liquor. Devae had money worries at home, so I gave him a little extra pay.”
It sounded like an indulgent arrangement. Cleaning a room was already part of a servant's work. But Theorad had his reasons.
He could not know everything that troubled the people in his household. Sometimes he learned of their difficulties only by watching closely. Devae's family had been struggling under debt; the extra payment let him settle it without the humiliation of asking for charity. Maltao, distracted by troubles in love, had been given a lighter assignment while he gathered himself.
A reward was often just an excuse to help someone without wounding their pride.
“Thank you, Master,” the elf murmured.
Theorad nodded, then snapped his fingers as though remembering something.
“Since you're here, I ought to give you something. Wait a moment.”
He crossed to a small drawer and knelt to search through it.
The elf turned toward his bookshelves. She remembered every volume from her earlier visits. But one unfamiliar white book stood among them.
Curious, she took it down.
Hope.
The title was written in Theorad's hand. She opened the cover and began to read.
First day of progress.
With Saint Rastain's devoted help, the Quarantined Night treatment was completed successfully.
The elf's color has returned, and she is breathing more easily. With sufficient rest, she should soon regain consciousness.
I pray that she wakes without further harm.
This is…
A diary. Theorad had begun keeping it after the treatment that saved her life.
She turned the page.
Second day of progress.
Something has gone wrong. The elf is suffering from mana exhaustion.
I knew it was a possible consequence of the treatment, but knowing that does nothing to ease my shame.
It hurts to hear her calling out that she loves me. If only I had found her sooner.
What use is it to be a noble if I can't protect even one person?
His self-reproach continued. He had risked his life to save her and still blamed himself for failing her.
The elf's fingers shook. Biting her lip, she read on.
Fifth day.
The elf who lost her memories seems happy with her life as it is. She smiles more readily now, finds joy in the smallest things, and looks at me with such affection.
For a moment I wondered whether she might be happier never remembering the suffering she once endured.
While we spent time together, I let myself think things I should not have thought.
But here in the villa's guest room, I understand how selfish that wish was.
Burying painful memories cannot undo the pain that happened. Can someone truly build a happy future by abandoning part of their own life? My life is short compared with an elf's, but I know that forgetting cannot be the foundation of happiness.
I must restore her memories somehow. I will do everything I can for her.
God of light, if you are watching from the distant heavens, guide both of us toward the light.
Tears welled in her eyes.
He had regarded her with such care. While he fought to restore what she had lost, she had been concealing the very memories that might make him turn away from her.
“Oh! There it is!”
Startled by his voice, the elf replaced the diary and hurriedly wiped her eyes.
Theorad approached with a box of beautifully shaped biscuits.
“I'd hidden these from Havid. They're kept fresh by preservation magic, and they were baked by an excellent chef in the capital. You'll like them.”
“Master…”
“Go on. Have as many as you like. I won't tell the chamberlain.”
She could not answer. Sweets seemed unimportant now.
Theorad misunderstood her stillness as reluctance and held the box toward her.
“If you'd rather, take the whole box. Consider it a little welcome gift. You can hide it in your apron and enjoy it in your room.”
The elf stared down at the biscuits and shook her head.
Theorad began to look worried. Had he offended his new maid somehow?
The elf tried to speak, but the words came out too faintly for him to hear. He adjusted his brooch, embarrassed by the silence.
“Could you say that again? My hearing isn't what it used to be.”
She clutched the box. Fear and hesitation ran through her, but at last she made a decision.
“…I'd like to take these outside with you.”
“Outside? Where?”
“There's a broad garden behind the mansion. Please come with me.”
I won't hide anymore.
“I want to show you something, Master. No…”
She lifted her eyes. This time she would face him with everything she had done, including the shame she had hoped never to reveal.
“I have something to show you.”