The Elf I Want to Be in a Relationship With

There was no denying that the woman's condition was terrible.

Something in her seemed to have broken. I took my hand off her shoulder and tried once more to speak.

“If you can't speak properly, then—”

“Nghyaa!”

“…All right. I won't ask you anything else.”

What could she possibly have endured to end up trembling and seeming to climax at the mere sound of someone speaking to her?

I couldn't make sense of it.

After struggling to accept what I'd seen, I summoned the courage to look at the elf.

“You.”

She had been following a butterfly with her eyes, apparently oblivious to the commotion. Now she turned toward me with a look of innocent curiosity that gave me goosebumps.

“Yes, Master? Did you call me?”

“I did. Tell me why this woman is in such a state.”

“Even if you ask me… I'm afraid I don't know.”

“You don't know? Didn't she spend the night in your room?”

“That's right, Master. But why should that mean I know?”

Her blood-red eyes shone without the slightest hint of malice. Someone meeting her for the first time might have believed every word.

I knew better.

If I'd realized this would happen, I would have checked her room with the surveillance ring.

Lately, the elf had behaved quietly enough that I'd let down my guard. Now I could only regret that complacency.

I sighed and glanced at our guest.

“Ehehe…”

Her unfocused eyes stared into empty space, saliva dripping from her parted lips.

As head of House Deharem, I couldn't simply allow a guest under my protection to leave the mansion with her mind shattered. Responsibility and guilt weighed heavily on my conscience.

“I don't know what happened last night,” I said, looking toward the elf. “But you should put her back the way she was.”

I tried to make it sound like an order. In truth, it was a plea.

Whatever my own problems with the elf, this woman was a third party. I couldn't accept that she'd been driven mad merely for getting caught between us.

The elf did not look inclined to forgive her. Instead, she turned a displeased gaze on me.

“Master, you don't know who this woman is.”

“That doesn't mean I can look away when someone has been punished unjustly.”

“It wasn't unjust. Her punishment was unavoidable.”

“Hmph. Don't talk nonsense. And you're a slave. Why do you have to argue about everything? If I say no, you should simply—”

I shut my mouth.

The elf had narrowed both eyes to sharp slits.

“Master, you don't trust me at all. I'm disappointed.”

And how am I supposed to trust you? Think about it from my side, you lunatic!

The rebuttal rose into my throat, but I swallowed it and took a long breath.

I felt sorry for the woman, but provoking the elf any further could make the disaster spread through the entire household. After the pudding incident, I'd learned that much.

I forced myself to speak calmly.

“Then explain it to me. Who is this woman?”

“A dreamer. She tried to interfere with Master's dream.”

A dreamer?

I'd heard rumors of such beings wandering among noble households and stealing valuable information from dreams. Her unusual appearance certainly didn't rule it out.

But I had no proof. I couldn't condemn a person simply because the elf said she was a dreamer.

“I can't take that on faith. If you have no evidence she's a dreamer, how can I believe you?”

“Then I'll show you.”

The elf looked down at the woman.

“Sit.”

“Y-yes…!”

Our guest immediately sat on the ground, as obediently as a trained dog.

“Spread your wings.”

The air shivered like heat above a road. Space bent behind the woman's shoulders, and two leathery wings unfolded from her back.

Those were genuine demon wings. No costume could have produced them.

“Do you understand now, Master?”

“Uh… Yes.”

I still didn't know everything that had happened, but the woman did seem to be a dreamer after all.

The elf looked down at her.

“Wake up.”

The woman rose and watched the elf nervously.

The elf gave her a contemptuous look, then moved her lips in a whisper too faint for me to hear.

The woman seemed to understand immediately.

With a startled cry, she bolted across the courtyard and fled as if she had just seen a monster.

“Hee…!”

I watched her run, unable to shake a feeling of pity.

The elf stepped beside me and spoke almost to herself.

“Why does nobody keep their promises? It isn't difficult.”

I didn't answer.

Perhaps I was imagining things, but her complaint sounded directed at me as much as at the fleeing dreamer.

I have to do something. Somehow…

Without letting the elf see, I slipped a hand inside my clothes and drew out a business card I had kept from the witch's shop.

Dokwol Guild Leader, Dremes.

I didn't like relying on her, but I was running out of options.

---

Some time later, in the Deharem mansion's drawing room…

“Mmm!”

Dremes pressed a hand to her puffed cheek and smiled in bliss. The dish before her was filled with expensive chocolates.

She savored its sweetness, chewing slowly, her expression melting into such obvious pleasure that she scarcely resembled the ill-tempered witch Theorad had met at her shop.

“It's so good… A nobleman serving a witch chocolate this expensive? It makes no sense…”

“You're a guest I invited. It's only proper to treat you well.”

Theorad sat across from her, answering as though his kindness required no explanation. Most nobles treated witches with suspicion or contempt. His hospitality was unusual enough to leave her genuinely touched.

“Hmph. That's how you see it. Other nobles treat us like wandering peddlers, then get offended the moment we speak casually.”

Dremes finished her black tea and set down the cup.

There was something else she wanted to ask.

“Um… Could I speak casually with you?”

“Go ahead.”

“You won't say that now and then take your business to another store because I wasn't respectful enough?”

“No. Don't worry.”

“Good. Then why did our handsome young master call me here?”

Theorad hesitated, sighed and finally nodded.

“I'm supposed to have sex in two days, and I'm not confident I can manage it. I thought you might know how to help.”

“Huh? Is this your first time?”

“Yes.”

Dremes stared at him.

“Then why did you buy all those adult products? I thought you were planning to use them with your fiancée.”

“Of course not! I wouldn't do something so shameless to Ashley!”

“Then what were you…? Oh.”

A knowing, rather wicked smile appeared on Dremes's lips.

“I took you for an innocent fellow, but you're a man after all. The toys were for a sex slave, weren't they? Nobles often keep one or two of those at home.”

“…You're not wrong.”

“There's no need to be ashamed. Still, you really haven't had sex? Not even with your slave?”

Theorad shook his head.

Dremes laughed hollowly. Why would a nobleman buy a sex slave and a collection of adult toys, only to have no sexual experience at all?

“Well, everyone has a first time. I suppose it's natural to be nervous. But if you want confidence…”

She considered him.

“How big are you?”

“Big?”

“Don't pretend you don't understand. You've never had sex, fine. But surely you've masturbated or at least noticed what happens when you wake up hard. Tell me how long your penis is when it's erect.”

“W-what sort of question is that?”

Theorad flushed and protested, but Dremes did not withdraw it.

He was the one asking for advice about sex. She couldn't help him if he refused to discuss even the basics.

When she continued to stare at him, he finally surrendered.

“…Then tell me what's average.”

“Average? About a handspan.”

She was lying to tease him.

A handspan was the distance from the tip of the thumb to the tip of the little finger when the fingers were spread wide—roughly twenty centimeters for a grown man.

If every man's penis were that long, women would have a dreadful time enduring both the pain and the pleasure. A length approaching a full handspan would be remarkable anywhere.

Dremes knew that perfectly well. She simply wanted to see how the naive Theorad would react.

“A handspan…”

Theorad spread his fingers and appeared to measure the distance in his mind.

Then he smiled brightly.

“I think I'm about average. That's a relief.”

Dremes stared.

“What did you say?”

“That I seem to be average.”

“Wait. Are you seriously saying you're a handspan or longer?”

“I haven't measured precisely. But it's close to that. Perhaps a little longer.”

What is wrong with this man?

Why did someone with no intention of using such an advantage have to be so well endowed?

And wasn't it unfair that a good-looking man had been given that, too? Surely the world ought to balance things out somehow.

Dremes sank back into her chair, her enthusiasm abruptly deflated.

“You have enough to be confident about. Don't worry.”

“But didn't you say that was only average?”

“Right. An average that will drive women wild.”

She waved the question aside.

“If you're still nervous, why not buy a mild aphrodisiac?”

Theorad looked puzzled.

“What sort of medicine is that?”

“You don't know what an aphrodisiac is?”

“I've heard of them. I don't know exactly what they do.”

“Basically, taking one increases sexual desire. It can also ease nervousness and make the other person seem more attractive. People use them for all sorts of games.”

“Ease nervousness…”

Theorad rubbed his chin, considering it.

Dremes did not miss a potential sale.

“The newer varieties hardly have any side effects. They're quite good. And if you buy one today, I'll throw in a free gift for a first-time customer. Interested?”

“There really aren't any side effects?”

“I've used them a few times myself. I was fine.”

“Then… can a man take one?”

Dremes blinked. Why was he asking about men now?

After a moment, she ventured a question.

“Forgive me if this is rude, but… are you gay?”

Theorad recoiled in outrage.

“What nonsense! Don't say things like that!”

“Then why would you ask whether a man can take it?”

“Isn't it obvious?”

Theorad clicked his tongue.

“I'm the one who's going to drink it.”

Dremes could only stare at him.

In her experience, nobles bought aphrodisiacs to give to the women they meant to sleep with. A man planning to have sex with a slave would ordinarily make the slave take the drug.

Yet Theorad, the master, wanted to take it himself.

To Dremes, that turned their entire relationship upside down.

“You…”

For once, her next question was entirely sincere.

“Have you ever suffered a head injury?”