Last Day in Pelgaroin

Four days later.

Warm afternoon sunlight fell across the count's office.

I was enjoying a leisurely afternoon with a book when a faint scraping sound began to grate on my nerves.

Metal against metal.

I didn't say anything. After all, I was the reason the noise was there.

I turned another few pages, doing my best to ignore it, before finally glancing toward the corner.

Scritch, scritch.

The elf was kneeling on the floor, carefully engraving a picture onto a polished breastplate.

Several sheets of fine paper lay scattered around her, each bearing a beautifully drawn illustration.

Why was she sitting so quietly, drawing on paper and armor?

There was a simple explanation.

Hildes, commander of the Blue Banner Knights, had been so delighted with the picture on his own breastplate that he had gone around showing it off.

The knights beneath him and a number of noble ladies had heard about it. Before long, they'd come to ask me, rather cautiously:

“Might your slave make a picture for us as well?”

It seemed the elf's skill had made quite an impression.

I'd thought it over, but could see no particular reason to refuse.

And so, for four days following that incident in the torture chamber, the elf had occupied herself with drawing and engraving.

I had worried that she might grow bored and start demanding that I insult her again. Perhaps she had been satisfied by the punishment, or perhaps she simply enjoyed drawing.

Whatever the reason, she hadn't complained once.

I wish things could stay like this.

I quite liked being ignored while she immersed herself in her pictures.

For once, she wasn't demanding some elaborate performance from me.

And I had to admit it: the elf was extraordinarily beautiful when she sat quietly like this.

Her silver hair caught the afternoon sunlight as it spilled over her shoulders. Beneath long lashes, her half-lidded red eyes held a natural elegance utterly unlike that of an ordinary slave.

Her appearance seemed almost impossibly refined.

If she would only keep her mouth shut, she might have passed for a goddess.

What in the world happened to a woman like this to make her insist on being my sex slave?

I was becoming more curious about her with every passing day.

After watching her for a while, I closed my book and turned my chair toward her.

She seemed to be in a good mood. Perhaps I could risk asking something.

“You.”

The elf stopped drawing and looked back.

Her red eyes widened with innocent curiosity.

“Master? Did you want something?”

“Yes. There's something I'd like to ask you.”

“What would you like to know?”

“I want to ask about your past.”

“Ah…”

Her shoulders twitched, and her cheeks turned pink.

“Th-then there's nothing I can do about it…”

She got to her feet and began taking off her apron.

I stared, bewildered.

What was she doing?

“If Master wants to know whether I'm still a virgin, I suppose I'll have to let you find out… I hadn't expected to do it somewhere like this, but if it's Master, I'm ready to be treated like a dog…”

Wait.

What?

How did a question about her past turn into an offer to prove her virginity?

My mind went blank.

By the time I recovered, she'd already caught hold of her underwear and was trying to pull it down.

I waved my hand frantically.

“Have you lost your mind? Do you know where we are? This is the count's office!”

“Y-yes… Isn't that why you want to do it here? Because it's somewhere we shouldn't, and that makes it feel so improper…”

“When did I say I wanted to do anything?! Stop talking nonsense, you ungrateful—!”

I was nearly shouting with terror.

The elf looked genuinely confused.

“M-Master? Didn't you mean you wanted to try my body for yourself?”

“Do you think I'm so consumed by lust that I can't ask an ordinary question?!”

“Eek! I'm sorry, Master! I'm sorry…!”

She dropped to her knees and bowed low, presenting a dreadful sight.

Her short skirt had fallen forward, leaving her backside exposed. Her underwear was still down around her thighs.

If someone opened the office door right now, I'd be ruined.

I frowned and let out a long, exasperated sigh.

“Enough. Stand up and get dressed.”

“Y-yes…”

She rose, pulled her underwear back into place, and tied her apron on again.

Only then did I feel able to breathe.

I returned to my original question.

“You vulgar creature. Stop twisting my words into something filthy and answer what I actually ask. What were you like before you became a slave?”

It might be a dangerous question.

Still, she had seemed to be enjoying herself, and even a little information about her past could help me understand what sort of elf I'd brought into my household.

“Before I became a slave…”

She fidgeted with her fingers and avoided my gaze.

“I don't know. I can't remember…”

Of course.

I hadn't really expected her to tell me, but the blunt refusal was still frustrating.

I clicked my tongue and leaned back in my chair.

“Then tell me your name. Surely you remember at least that?”

“I'm sorry, Master. I don't remember my name either.”

She wouldn't even give me a name.

A false name might at least have given me something to work with, but she refused to offer so much as that.

Pressing further would only make her suspicious.

I waved a hand dismissively.

“I already know how useless you are. I shouldn't be surprised. Bring me the pictures you've finished. I'll inspect them before they're handed over to the ladies.”

“Ah… Yes, Master.”

She gathered the sheets from the floor and held them out.

I took the drawings with a displeased expression and began to examine them.

…She's good.

Really good.

There was something remarkable about every line on the fine paper.

Trees seemed full of life. Flowers on the verge of blooming carried a sense of vitality.

Merely looking at the pictures made me feel as though I were standing in a forest.

There was no chance she'd developed this skill in a day or two.

I studied another sheet, struggling to keep the admiration off my face.

Most of the drawings depicted animals and plants in graceful woodland scenes.

But there's something strange…

Whether deliberately or unconsciously, she'd included deer in every picture.

Deer with straight antlers appeared here and there, running through the landscapes with an almost startling sense of motion.

At first, I'd thought they were simply roaming freely.

Yet the longer I looked, the more uneasy I felt.

It was only an impression, but these deer seemed to be running away.

Had they grown weary of the forest?

Were hunters pursuing them from behind?

“Master?”

Her voice broke through my thoughts.

I cleared my throat and looked up.

“For a stupid slave, you've drawn rather well. These ought to please the ladies and the knights—”

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

Was I supposed to praise her?

Nervous, I swallowed and flung the drawings into the air.

“—As if! They're dreadful, you worthless idiot!”

The sheets fluttered to the floor like petals shaken from a tree.

The elf lowered her head and began to cry.

“I'm sorry… I'm sorry I'm such a useless sow…”

“Tsk. If you're sorry, draw them all again from the beginning.”

“F-from the beginning…?”

It was an outrageous order.

But this was another part of the humiliation she demanded, wasn't it?

I laughed and lifted my chin.

“Stop whining. You can finish them if you work through the night.”

“That's too cruel, Master…”

Sniffling, she gathered the scattered pages and returned to her place in the corner.

“Hic…”

It was a pitiful sight.

All an act, though.

Just then, someone knocked at the office door.

“Come in.”

A neatly dressed servant entered and bowed with proper courtesy.

“Viscount Theorad. Forgive the interruption, but I came to inform you that His Excellency the Count has returned.”

“…The Count?”

I'd been told he wouldn't be back until tomorrow morning.

Startled, I stood and hurriedly straightened my clothes.

“I'll go to him at once.”

---

I was told that His Excellency was waiting in the third drawing room of the castle.

I made my way there and opened the door.

The room wasn't especially large. A man sat on a sofa with his back to me, a book in his hands.

I couldn't see his face, but the atmosphere around him was unmistakable.

There was no doubt who he was.

I cleared my throat discreetly, approached with the most respectful steps I could manage, and stopped across from him.

“I'm glad you've returned safely, Your Excellency. Had you informed me beforehand, I would have come to greet you.”

There was no answer.

The Count continued reading.

I stood there awkwardly until he finally spoke without looking up.

“Sit.”

I bowed and took a seat.

Now I could study his appearance.

His neat blond hair, so similar in color to Ashley's, was combed straight back.

His formal coat was immaculate, without a speck of dust. His sharp, thoughtful eyes remained fixed upon his book, as intent as those of a scholar pursuing some difficult truth.

He was more than fifty, yet apart from a few fine lines around his eyes, there was little sign of age. He might easily have passed for a man in his thirties.

This was Count Leonberg de Pelgaroin.

His name was known throughout the Empire's political and financial circles.

He was said to be one of the five pillars supporting the Empire, a great lord whose influence was such that even the Emperor himself could scarcely speak lightly of him.

Yet he didn't wield that influence merely to mistreat those beneath him.

He was an upright man, firm in his principles and unafraid to speak or act according to them.

I'd admired him for years.

After my own father, there was no one I respected more. I'd often resolved to become a man as accomplished as Count Pelgaroin.

But, Your Excellency…

How long are you planning to read that book?

I waited and waited.

The Count never lifted his eyes from the page, and I couldn't bring myself to interrupt him.

We remained that way until the sunlight outside had faded.

At last, he closed the book.

“Not bad.”

After that short remark, he looked directly at me.

His already sharp gaze narrowed.

“But looking at your face irritates me.”

It would have been a hurtful thing to hear, had I not understood him so well.

His Excellency was an old friend of my father, a man who governed the central territories and carried enormous responsibility.

He continued in that same stern voice.

“You grow more handsome by the day. You make me look worse in comparison, don't you think?”

Ah.

He was simply rather clumsy at expressing fondness for someone he liked.