Incompetent but Special Because You Are (5)

The rain fell for another five minutes or so, then stopped.

That wasn't the spell reaching its limit. We'd deliberately supplied only a small amount of mana, enough to confirm that the artificial rain could actually be produced.

“Marvelous. I never imagined it would succeed on the first try.”

Professor Roylen brushed the rain from his hair.

I was just as astonished, although I could hardly say so.

How could I have known the elf would correct the diagram with such extraordinary precision?

Roylen smiled at my silence, evidently mistaking it for the unshakable composure of a genius.

“His Majesty the Emperor will be delighted. And Her Highness the Princess, too. Don't concern yourself about the compensation. I'll see that they hear about this properly.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

“I'm the one who should be thanking you. Frankly, I thought I would return with little to show for my visit. Who could have expected the successful test of a spell on this scale? I'm very fortunate.”

He smiled kindly and slipped his wand back inside his coat.

“My duties as an auditor are finished, so I ought to be going. It would be discourteous for me and the palace magicians to impose on your household any longer. Oh, and I must say the refreshments were excellent. Especially the chocolate. That particular kind is hard to find even in the capital.”

“We keep some aside for honored visitors. If you'd like, I could have more brought to you.”

Roylen laughed.

“I appreciate the offer, but I'll decline. If I take advantage of your hospitality any further, House Deharem may start to resent me.”

He extended his hand.

“Then I shall take my leave. Meeting you has been a genuine honor, Viscount Theorad.”

I shook his hand.

“The honor was mine, Professor Roylen.”

“I hope our paths cross again.”

His words sounded strangely deliberate.

He bowed in farewell and walked away. The imperial magicians offered their own respectful greetings before following him out.

With their departure, the lawn fell quiet again.

I heard someone approach and turned.

The elf was standing nearby with her eyes lowered and her hands clasped together.

“Master…”

Usually, the sight of her was enough to make my blood run cold.

Today she seemed almost radiant.

I caught her by the shoulders and spoke with all the gratitude I'd been holding in.

“Thank you. Thanks to you, my father's wish and mine have finally come true. I'm sorry I slapped you in the office the other day. If there's anything you want, I can—”

“Master.”

She interrupted.

The brightness seemed to drain from her face.

Her red eyes turned so cold that, for a moment, I felt as though she wanted to kill me.

“I don't understand a single thing you're saying.”

“Ah…”

I knew what she meant.

You'd better remember your place as the master who's supposed to humiliate me.

At least, that was how I understood her expression.

Cold sweat broke out on my back. I released her shoulders.

“Of course you don't understand. What could a brain as small as yours possibly make of a compliment? I shouldn't have bothered.”

At once, her expression softened and she began to sniffle.

Thank goodness.

I let out a quiet breath and pointed toward the mansion with my chin.

“Get out of my sight. Looking at your face disgusts me.”

“I'm sorry for having such a disgusting face, Master… But there's something I need to confess.”

“What?”

“I accidentally broke three of Master's favorite plates. A foolish, worthless slave like me deserves punishment…”

When did you break another three plates, you lunatic?

I kept the thought to myself.

“You miserable creature. Very well. I'll give you an appropriate punishment, so go and wait for it.”

Her tears stopped.

Huh?

She just stood there.

What had I done wrong this time?

I'd promised to punish her. Normally she'd be delighted to hear that.

Was my acting poor?

Impossible. I'd practiced expressions of contempt and disgust so diligently that I could almost fool myself.

Then perhaps it was the wording.

She'd just made my lifelong dream come true. An appropriate punishment might have sounded like a paltry reward.

It was the only explanation I could think of.

I cleared my throat.

“I take that back. Be prepared for a severe punishment.”

The elf immediately burst into tears again.

There it is.

“N-no, Master! I don't want it… Please forgive me!”

“Forgiveness? A sow like you can beg for that once she's been properly punished.”

“Ah… Please don't…”

“I've had enough of your whining. Go inside.”

I waved her away.

She retreated toward the mansion, crying.

The immediate danger had passed.

But now I had to invent some terrible-sounding punishment. The idea of another session was already giving me a headache.

“Young master!”

I turned at the familiar call.

Beynon came striding toward me, smiling with a warmth I rarely saw on his face.

“Congratulations on completing the magic you've worked so hard for. Oh, and the old man was coughing like he'd caught a cold, so I sent him indoors.”

“Well done.”

Havid had been thoroughly soaked. That was probably for the best.

I looked at Beynon, an idea beginning to form.

“By the way, Beynon. Do you know anything about the kinds of things women enjoy?”

“Women enjoy? Oh, you mean adult toys?”

“Adult toys?”

“The sort of things witches sell. Why the sudden interest?”

There was no easy way to explain.

I cleared my throat and said nothing.

Beynon gave me a knowing, decidedly indecent grin.

“Well, it's about time you started taking an interest. It's late today, but tomorrow I'll take you to a witch's shop I know. Don't worry about a thing.”

I nodded without answering.

For some reason, my face felt hot.

I was about to try something I'd never done before.

---

Late that night.

After returning to the imperial palace through a warp gate, Roylen went straight to Princess Benelia's room.

There was no need to knock. The door already stood open, as though someone had been expecting him.

Roylen drew a breath and entered.

Benelia sat before a vast hanging depicting a white lion, her attention fixed upon the chessboard on her desk.

She gave no sign of noticing the professor.

Roylen almost spoke, then thought better of it. The princess seemed unusually engrossed in her game.

For a moment, Roylen merely watched her.

Benelia's gray-black hair hung to her waist. Her half-lidded golden eyes looked perpetually bored, yet there was nothing dull about her sharp, graceful face.

She wore the uniform of an imperial general rather than a fashionable dress. It suited her so naturally that Roylen thought she looked more like a ruler than the girls who dressed in frills to attract a husband.

The bearing of a woman born to command.

Unfortunately, the uniform also drew Roylen's wandering gaze toward the curves of the princess's chest.

“Your eyes are wandering somewhere filthy.”

Roylen jerked his gaze upward.

How did she notice without even looking?

He coughed and tried to recover his composure.

“Your Highness, if you wanted to play chess, why didn't you wait for me?”

“Because I wouldn't enjoy playing you.”

“How will your skill improve if you refuse to play someone better?”

“I told you. I don't want to be massacred.”

“‘Massacred’? What's that supposed to mean?”

Benelia clicked her tongue.

“You're a professor at the Mage Tower, yet you don't know the expressions your own students use? They call a match with such a great difference in skill ‘Yanghak’—a ‘massacre of civilians.’”

“What a ridiculous expression. I'll have to speak to the students about their language.”

“Leave them alone. It's amusing enough. There's no need to take away their freedom over a joke.”

She moved a piece on the board.

“Besides, there are more important things for you to worry about. What happened with that disgraceful book everyone's been talking about?”

With her black knight, she took the white bishop and considered her next move.

Roylen cleared his throat again.

“The person who wrote and distributed the obscene book insulting Your Highness has been arrested. The trial is still pending.”

“Don't kill him.”

“Your Highness?”

“It was probably my second brother's doing. A cheap scheme to damage my reputation. And besides, I rather enjoyed the book.”

Cold sweat broke out on Roylen's forehead.

“…You read it?”

“Of course. I still remember the part where an enemy commander captures me and rapes me for three days and nights. The psychological portrayal was rather good, even if the whole thing was lurid.”

“Y-Your Highness!”

“Don't make such a fuss. I meant what I said.”

Benelia studied the chessboard.

“I said not to kill the culprit. I didn't say he should escape punishment. Cut off his left wrist and right ankle. Use a saw, not a guillotine, and don't administer anesthetic.”

Without anesthetic?

Roylen knew how likely that would be to cause death through blood loss or shock.

And even if the man survived, he would be permanently disabled and branded a traitor. With such unmistakable injuries, ordinary people could easily recognize him.

He might be beaten to death in the streets.

The princess had ordered that his life be spared, but the difference between that sentence and execution was frighteningly small.

Is this a warning to her second brother? To her other enemies as well?

Roylen felt a chill at the ease with which Benelia discussed such things.

“I will see that your wishes are conveyed.”

“Good.”

Benelia moved another piece and murmured, “Checkmate.”

She smiled, pleased at having defeated herself.

Roylen was still trying to steady his nerves.

“There is another matter, Your Highness.”

“Speak.”

“I wish to report on the artificial-rain magic being developed by House Deharem.”

“Ah, that. It failed, of course. The deadline was far too short.”

“No. It succeeded.”

For the first time since Roylen entered, Benelia raised her head from the chessboard.

“…Succeeded? Are you joking?”

“Not at all. I witnessed a successful manifestation test with the imperial palace magicians.”

“What?”

Genuine surprise rippled across Benelia's usually impassive face.

How?

Count Leonberg de Pelgaroin had visited the imperial palace and talked about Theorad until Benelia was thoroughly tired of hearing his name.

Half in jest, she'd sent House Deharem a letter requiring a research report.

If progress proved poor, she could use the failure to temper the Count's extravagant praise. If the magic had advanced, the imperial family could acquire the work and pursue it properly.

But a completed artificial-rain spell?

The research records from three years ago had shown a diagram riddled with errors.

Unless…

Perhaps it had all been a trick.

Perhaps Theorad had completed his work years ago and deliberately concealed the results until a moment that suited him.

Why would he do that?

Benelia remembered that the former head of House Deharem, Theorad's father, had died of a sudden illness.

What if Theorad had waited for his father's death so that he alone could claim the rewards of the research?

“Ha…”

An involuntary laugh escaped her.

The thought amused her because it suggested a young man rather like herself.

A cunning little cardinal.

How could she dislike a young noble with such ambition? He seemed far more spirited than ministers and eunuchs who spent their lives watching everyone else's reactions.

Perhaps that's why Count Leonberg praises him so highly.

Still, even a gemstone needed to have the impurities knocked away before its value could be judged.

Benelia turned her golden eyes on Roylen.

“Now I'm interested. Sit down, Professor. Tell me more about Theorad Deharem.”

Roylen blinked.

When had Her Highness ever shown so much interest in another person?

Puzzled but pleased, he obeyed.