Bad Guy Theorad (5)
Ashley hadn't imagined that one dose of the witch's medicine would turn Theorad into the most wicked man in the world.
Still, she'd expected him to become at least a little unruly.
Perhaps he would raise his voice, cause trouble, or behave with a selfishness she'd never seen in him.
Instead, he'd complained about a hair in his food, scolded the restaurant staff and sent them on their way.
He was a little harsher than usual.
He was still Theorad.
What am I supposed to make of this?
She remained standing in the aisle, uncertain whether to approach.
Theorad sensed her presence and looked up.
His light-brown eyes seemed sharper than before.
“What are you doing?”
His voice was low and unexpectedly compelling.
“The food has been served. Come and sit down. Don't stand in the way of the staff.”
“Ah… yes.”
Ashley took her seat.
Theorad glanced at her, picked up his knife and cut into his steak.
His movements were perfectly ordinary.
It was his manner that seemed different.
The Theorad she knew could sound imperious, but there had always been an innocence beneath it.
Now that innocence seemed a little less apparent.
The medicine must be working.
Ashley was still watching him when he paused with a morsel of meat raised halfway to his mouth.
He noticed her staring.
“Did you come here to eat?”
She flinched and hurriedly picked up her own knife.
“Y-yes. Of course. I'll eat.”
“Then eat. Don't sit there looking like an idiot.”
He clicked his tongue and resumed his meal.
Ashley lowered her eyes to her plate.
An idiot…
Even knowing the medicine was responsible, the word stung.
But she'd been the one who made the mistake.
She could hardly blame him for something he'd swallowed at her invitation.
She began eating in silence.
For a while neither of them spoke.
“Wait.”
Ashley had eaten about half her steak when Theorad put down his knife.
He took a handkerchief from inside his coat.
What is he doing?
He leaned forward and reached toward her face.
Softly.
The cloth brushed the corner of her mouth.
He wiped away a little food, folded the handkerchief twice and returned it neatly to his coat.
“Don't go around with food on your face. It's unpleasant to look at.”
“Ah… I'm sorry.”
“Of course you are. Ashley, tell me something. Who are you?”
The question came so suddenly that she blinked.
“I'm the youngest daughter of Count Leonberg de Pelgaroin, and a member of House Pelgaroin.”
“Wrong.”
He looked directly into her eyes.
“You're my fiancée. The woman who will help lead House Deharem with me one day.”
He continued in the same cool, matter-of-fact voice.
“To put it crudely, you're my woman.”
Ashley's face went hot.
“So hold yourself with dignity, wherever you go. I don't mean only for your own sake, or your father's. Think of the reputation you'll have as my wife.”
“L-Lord Theorad… Why so suddenly…?”
“Do you dislike the idea? Then say so. If you don't want it, I'll do everything I can to make you comfortable.”
She shook her head hurriedly.
How could I dislike it?
Marrying Theorad had been her dream for as long as she could remember.
He nodded.
“Good. And don't misunderstand me. I'm not telling you to carry that obligation alone. I'll conduct myself properly too, so that I don't disgrace you or House Pelgaroin. Do you understand?”
“Y-yes…”
She could scarcely manage the word.
Every sentence was more embarrassing than the last.
Ashley finished her meal while avoiding his gaze as much as possible.
If she looked at him directly, she was afraid she'd start smiling for no reason and be unable to stop.
After lunch, they continued through the streets.
It was, for all practical purposes, a date.
The only difficulty was that the medicine's effects lasted much longer than Ashley had expected.
As Ashley tried her hand at archery, Theorad watched her take aim.
“I thought you were clever, but you have little talent for this,” he observed. “With your stance so unsteady, of course you can't hit the target. I'll correct it. Do as I say.”
Before she could answer, he moved behind her and abruptly caught her by the waist to adjust her posture.
Ashley nearly forgot about the target altogether.
Later, at a stall selling jewelry, he stopped to examine a pair of earrings.
“These would suit you. Your complexion is so fair that elaborate decorations would only distract from it. Something restrained would be better.”
He reached toward her face, tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and studied how the earrings might look.
Ashley could hardly breathe.
Then, while they were watching a street performer in a brightly feathered hat, she glanced at the man's act with interest.
Theorad noticed.
“Don't look at other men like that,” he said quietly. “It irritates me when you pay more attention to someone else than to me.”
Please… stop…
Ashley was at her limit.
She didn't hate any of this.
Quite the opposite.
The strange, bold Theorad was more attractive than she had ever imagined.
And that frightened her a little.
If I get used to this, what am I going to do?
She took a breath, tried to steady herself and gently pushed him away.
“L-Lord Theorad?”
“What?”
“There's an ice-cream stand over there. Shall I buy us two? Could you watch the performer's tricks while I go?”
“I could come with you.”
“No, it's all right! It's just over there. I'll be back soon. Please?”
At last he nodded.
Ashley exhaled in relief and hurried toward the stand.
There was already a queue.
She joined it at the back.
Then she noticed the woman standing directly in front of her.
The woman was rather short, with untidy black hair falling to her waist beneath a wide-brimmed hat.
Dremes?
Ashley tapped her shoulder.
The witch turned with a scowl.
“What? Why are you touching me? Looking to start a fight, you Church bastard? Go away. I'm a witch, and not a pleasant one.”
“Dremes? It's me.”
“Who are you? Stop bothering me.”
Ashley hesitated.
They'd met more than once when Dremes visited to conduct business with Maldon.
How could the witch fail to recognize her?
Oh.
The headband.
She was still wearing the cat ears enchanted to keep people from recognizing her.
Ashley smiled awkwardly and took them off.
“Do you recognize me now?”
“Huh? Oh.”
Dremes's scowl softened.
“My lady. What are you doing here? And with a magic trinket like that… Sneaking out on a date without your father's permission? Are you two going to have sex?”
“Th-that's not—”
“Relax. I'm joking.”
Dremes waved away the protest.
“More importantly, did you try that medicine I gave you?”
The medicine…
Ashley still felt dreadful about her mistake.
“Yes. It works. A little too well, actually.”
“Really? Want some more? I've got plenty. It's not exactly a popular item.”
The witch gave a derisive smile.
“It's not the kind of medicine most people can handle. You'd have to be a real pushover, like your fiancé.”
“Dremes! Lord Theorad isn't a fool!”
Ashley's voice rose before she could stop herself.
“He's simply a kind person!”
“Good grief. I was only joking. Why are you so angry?”
Dremes regarded her for a moment.
“Well? Do you want another bottle?”
Ashley hesitated.
With more of the medicine, she could perhaps see that forceful, unfamiliar side of Theorad whenever she wished.
The offer was tempting.
Especially when the witch was willing to give it away.
But…
“…No, thank you.”
A small, gentle smile came to Ashley's lips.
“The Theorad I love is the way he usually is.”
The imperial capital.
An office in the imperial palace assigned to the Empire's Third Princess, who also held military command.
“There is no such thing as a devil…”
Princess Benelia lay along a sofa, reading the last page of a book.
She frowned, then snapped it shut.
Professor Roylen had been waiting nearby for an opportunity to speak.
“Your Highness, I have a report—”
Benelia raised a hand.
“Later. There's something more important I must do first.”
“More important, Your Highness?”
“I need to imagine killing my second brother.”
Roylen stared at her.
How is that more important than an official report?
He wanted to say so.
Yet he couldn't entirely blame the princess for her anger.
At a recent meeting of the ministers, Benelia had denounced leading officials as traitors to the country.
The Second Prince, Leonhard, had responded by calling her a coward.
The Emperor had then strengthened Leonhard's position and imposed restrictions on Benelia for the time being.
It was an ugly public humiliation.
But there was another complication.
“Wasn't this the situation Your Highness intended to create?” Roylen ventured. “You deliberately provoked Prince Leonhard and the ministers. You said it would help you win public support.”
“Do you think I don't know that?”
Benelia stared at the ceiling.
“The prince's criticism and my confinement were within my calculations. That doesn't mean I can't be furious when they happen.”
She narrowed her golden eyes.
“Roylen, I know you must be tired of hearing me complain. But you've been here every day. Surely you understand how I feel.”
“Please don't worry about speaking harshly to me, Your Highness. I'm not offended.”
“Because I've never insulted you so deeply that I've denied everything you've achieved.”
The princess's expression hardened.
“When the Orc Conquest War began, I was twelve years old. I took command of a thousand soldiers and fought at the front, risking my life.”
She clenched a fist.
“What was my second brother doing? Hiding somewhere safe, amusing himself. And that man dares call me a coward?”
Her teeth ground together.
For an instant she wanted nothing more than to strike his face.
But the anger wasn't accomplishing anything.
She exhaled, pushed herself upright and looked at Roylen.
“Enough. What was your report?”
“Ah. The refinement of the artificial-rain magic is progressing well. Also, preparations for the gifts to congratulate Viscount Theorad are complete.”
“What have you prepared?”
“A wagon loaded with gold and silver, enough silk to last one person a lifetime, and fifteen horses.”
“Too little. Add another wagon of gold and silver from my personal funds.”
Roylen hesitated.
“Your Highness, that will be a considerable expense.”
“Sometimes you have to spend heavily to win talented people over.”
Benelia spoke without wavering.
“You don't tame a wolf by offering it a morsel meant for a wildcat. Add the wagon.”
There was no arguing with her.
Roylen bowed his head.
“As you command.”
“Oh. One more thing.”
Benelia picked up the book she'd been reading and tossed it at Roylen's feet.
Roylen glanced down.
The title was Secret Tryst with a Princess.
He knew what sort of book it was without opening it.
It was an erotic novel.
“Find its author,” Benelia ordered.
“Your Highness? Is it because the book insults the imperial family?”
“No.”
Benelia looked genuinely annoyed.
“I read it three years ago, when it first became popular. I had an official in the prime minister's office obtain a copy for me. It was such a masterpiece that I read it again two years ago, and last year, and now.”
Roylen struggled to see the problem.
Benelia pointed to the book.
“The series has been stalled for three years. Fourteen volumes, and not a single new installment since. Worse, the last page stops just as the romance between the princess and the mercenary is finally fulfilled.”
She leaned forward.
“I want to know what happens next. Yet for three years the author has published nothing. It's an insult to me, and therefore an insult to the imperial family.”
“…Your Highness?”
“Find the author. If he's still alive, I'll kill him.”
Roylen stared.
She's joking. Surely she's joking.
After a moment he forced a laugh.
“Ha… what a wonderful joke. You almost had me—”
“Professor Roylen.”
The princess's voice turned cold.
“Would you like to die as well?”
Roylen broke into a sweat.
He bowed as low as he could.
“I will stake my life and honor on capturing the author, Your Highness!”