Dremes, the Witch Without a Silver Spoon

The following day, on Red Feather Street in the County of Pelgaroin.

“Here we are. You'd be hard-pressed to find another shop like this anywhere in the county.”

As promised, Beynon had brought me to a witch's shop.

The building wasn't particularly large.

Its sign, however, was impossible to ignore.

Make your lover a sex slave with a witch's tools!

I stared at the outrageous advertisement.

Red Feather Street was well known for prostitution and other disreputable amusements, but surely this was going a little too far.

While I stood there trying to gather my courage, Beynon wrapped an arm around my shoulders and reached for the shop door.

“B-Beynon! I'm not ready yet!”

“Why are you acting like a bride on her wedding night? You're the one who asked me to bring you here.”

“That's not what I meant! I told you I wasn't coming because I wanted to—”

“Of course. Unmarried young men say that all the time when they come here. You're hardly the first, young master. Relax. It's just a shop.”

He flashed me a mischievous smile and threw the door open.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

When I dared look inside, I was surprised for an entirely different reason.

Huh?

I'd expected shelves crowded with indecent implements.

Instead, the room was decorated with skull-shaped ornaments, sinister dolls and all manner of occult curiosities.

Without the sign outside, I might have mistaken it for an ordinary witch's dwelling.

This is where they sell adult toys?

Still trying to make sense of the place, I stepped inside.

A woman emerged from a recessed corner of the shop.

“Beynon? And who's the handsome fellow with you?”

Her black hair hung in a disorderly mass, and her eyes were as dark as graphite.

She wore a ruffled gothic dress and held a smoking pipe.

She looked unlike any shopkeeper I'd ever met.

Beynon greeted her with the ease of an old acquaintance.

“Been a while, Dremes.”

“It certainly has. Now tell me who this delicious-looking young man is.”

I nearly choked.

Before I could speak, Beynon stepped in front of me.

“Mind your manners. This is Lord Theorad, head of House Deharem.”

“Theorad? Who's that?”

Dremes looked me up and down with brazen indifference.

She drew on her pipe, exhaled a cloud of smoke, and finally nodded.

“Oh, I remember. That innocent-looking bachelor with a fiancée, right? Poor woman. A man that stiff and proper must be a terrible bore. If he weren't handsome, I doubt anyone would look at him twice.”

“Dremes.”

“What?”

“Try showing a little respect when you speak.”

“Why should I? Because he's the head of some human noble family? We witches don't have to bow to ranks humans invented. Besides, I'm the head of the Dokwol Guild. You know what that means?”

I did.

The guild's name could be understood as the Moon of Resentment. Its witches had never forgotten the Church's persecutions and witch hunts, and it was said to be the largest of their unions.

Then why is its leader running a shop like this?

Beynon answered my unspoken question.

“It means you need money in all sorts of places, doesn't it?”

“…Beynon. If you'd been born a woman, you'd have made an excellent witch.”

“I believe in the God of Light, thanks. If I'd been born a witch, I'd probably have killed myself over the contradiction.”

“You're awful. Go die somewhere, you bastard.”

“And you're the fool who insulted my young master.”

“You son of a—”

Dremes's hand shook around her pipe.

They plainly knew each other well enough to speak this way, but I wished I weren't standing between them.

Beynon glanced at me and shrugged.

“Well? Are you going to do business or not? Our young master may look innocent, but he's quite capable, and his family has money. You should be a little less arrogant if you don't want to lose a customer.”

“What happened to being my friend?”

“Come now, don't be hurt. Before I'm your friend, I'm the young master's knight. And before you're a witch, you're running an adult-goods business. Keep your work and personal feelings separate.”

“How irritating…”

Dremes gave him a sour look and turned away.

For a moment, I thought she meant to leave through the back.

Instead, she dragged a wooden table out from a corner and set three chairs around it.

With a flick of her fingers, a damp cloth sailed from the small kitchen into her hand.

Swish.

She wiped the table and sat.

“Well? You're guests, aren't you? Sit down.”

So money matters more than pride after all.

I smiled politely and sat opposite her.

Beynon made himself comfortable beside me.

Then his expression turned insufferably smug.

“I'm thirsty after walking all the way here. Have you got something to drink?”

“Shut up, Beynon. You're not my guest. Theorad is.”

“I'm sure the young master would like a drink too. Wouldn't you?”

Now that he mentioned it, my throat did feel a little dry.

I nodded without thinking.

Beynon gave Dremes a victorious grin.

“See? Two cups of coffee, then.”

“Fine. Just keep your mouth shut.”

Dremes lifted a hand and moved her fingers. Cups and spoons rose from the kitchen as though to float toward us.

Beynon clicked his tongue.

“Showing off your magic to guests? How rude. Go and make it properly.”

“Why should I?”

“Remember last time, when you lost your concentration and put far too much sugar in my coffee? What's to stop you from making another mistake? Use your hands. It won't take long.”

Dremes glared at him so fiercely I almost expected sparks.

Beynon merely whistled.

In the end, she surrendered.

“Oh, for—”

She got up, went into the kitchen, and began preparing the coffee without magic.

I watched for a moment, then nudged Beynon.

“Beynon.”

“Yes, young master?”

“How do you know the leader of the Dokwol Guild?”

“Ah, we met on business a few times back when I worked as a mercenary. We ended up drinking together and kept in touch. Her temper's dreadful, but she isn't a bad witch. You needn't worry.”

I'd heard that members of the Dokwol Guild tended to harbor strong hostility toward humans.

Yet its leader seemed, at least on the surface, more ill-tempered than truly hateful.

That didn't tell me what she thought in private. Still, she hardly appeared to be someone who wished harm on every human she met.

“If anything, Beynon, you're being rather more unpleasant than she is.”

“You've misunderstood me. I'm doing this for your sake.”

“For mine?”

“Witches can be troublesome if you don't establish who holds the advantage when you first meet them. I'm making sure she understands that you aren't someone she can push around.”

It sounded plausible.

Still, was tormenting his old drinking companion really necessary for me?

It left a bad taste in my mouth.

But Beynon had never been one to lie to me, so I decided to trust him.

“Here. Coffee.”

Dremes returned with the cups and handed one to Beynon.

I thanked her when she passed me mine. She answered with a grudging nod.

“Now then. What kind of adult products do you want?”

What kind?

I had no idea how to answer.

I'd never shopped for such things before.

“I don't know.”

“You don't know? Is this your first visit to a shop like mine?”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, but…”

She settled into her chair, apparently preparing for a longer discussion.

“Fine. Just tell me roughly what you need. I'll pick out something suitable.”

“Roughly…”

What would the elf like?

I thought back over the punishments and insults she'd demanded from me.

There was one requirement I wouldn't compromise on.

“Nothing that draws blood. Some discomfort is all right, but I don't want anything that causes an injury.”

“Anything else?”

“Something that could provide physical pleasure while also causing embarrassment or humiliation. But nothing excessively cruel.”

“That narrows it down, though it's still difficult. Let me ask you one more thing.”

Dremes parted her legs and raised the hem of her skirt.

Her stocking garters and black underwear, marked by a conspicuous pattern, were plainly visible.

“What would you put here?”

I couldn't bring myself to stare.

Instead, I deliberately lifted my eyes to meet hers.

“…I'd rather not try anything like that.”

“Are you sure?”

“I've never used adult products before.”

“Hmm. Then I'll include a dragon head as a complimentary item.”

“A dragon head?”

“You'll understand when you receive it. Ask your lover whether she likes it. As for the rest, I'll choose some of the popular items and include instructions.”

She lowered her skirt and snapped her fingers.

A crystal sphere and a small piece of paper floated from a cabinet into her hand.

She offered them to me.

“The crystal sphere bears my mark. It's for sending the goods by magic. Once I've packed everything, I'll send the items to wherever you place the sphere, so set it on a flat surface. They'll arrive sometime today.”

“And the paper?”

“My business card. If you want to reach me without coming back, burn it. You'll get a prompt response.”

“How much will it cost?”

“I'll bill your household. Payment isn't urgent. And I'll put ‘purchase of everyday magic tools’ on the invoice, so there's no reason for anyone to feel embarrassed.”

She's certainly done this before.

I nodded and was about to accept the sphere and card when Beynon interrupted.

“Just a moment, Dremes.”

“What now?”

“Do you have to speak to him so casually? Is the young master your drinking companion?”

A vein stood out on Dremes's forehead.

“Beynon, quit provoking me. I've killed people before, you know.”

“And you think I haven't? I once stabbed people with a fork when I was a mercenary.”

Silence settled between them.

The air felt as brittle as thin ice.

Then Beynon smiled with outrageous cheer.

“All right, all right. I won't demand a complete change in how you speak. But at least address him respectfully. If you refuse, you'll lose a good customer. There are plenty of other shops, after all. Isn't that right, young master?”

Why are you dragging me into this?

I was just about to tell him to leave it alone when Dremes spoke.

“W-we witches don't serve humans.”

“Who said anything about serving him? Just use a proper form of address.”

“But…”

Dremes's face darkened.

Pride or money?

After a painful moment's consideration, she turned a crooked smile on me.

“Ah… I hope we'll do business again, Theo—young master.”

And so Dremes, too, had finally bowed to the power of money.