Theorad Wants to Live
The elf stood before me with an inscrutable smile.
As she looked down at me, her face seemed to draw closer and closer. Was this how a mouse felt when it was cornered by a cat? I was so terrified I could barely breathe.
But if I let that fear show, I would only confirm whatever suspicions she had.
I calmly straightened my neck and adjusted the brooch at my collar.
“Hmm.”
Inside, of course, I was screaming.
The part of me that wanted to scream seemed to have split into dozens of little versions of myself, all running around in a panic, like a wizard who had accidentally drawn a magic circle capable of ending the world. It was chaos.
Still, I was the son of a distinguished noble family. I had been taught how to conduct myself in the face of hardship. Whatever the danger, I had to remain calm and think.
Why did the elf bring me that letter?
I had entrusted the correspondence to Havid. Shouldn't he have been the one to bring me the reply?
Havid probably knew nothing about this. But the fact remained: the letter had reached me through the elf instead of through my steward.
Did she take it before he could?
Havid checked the mailbox every morning. Under ordinary circumstances, he would have discovered the letter tomorrow and delivered it to me himself.
If my guess was right, she'd gone to the mailbox herself and removed the letter without permission.
Three possibilities came to mind.
First: she deliberately broke a household rule because she wants me to scold her.
Perhaps she had taken the letter simply to provoke a reprimand. That smile might have nothing to do with uncovering my secret. She might just be looking forward to her punishment.
Second: she knows I'm trying to return her.
Perhaps she had read the letter before delivering it and had worked out what I was planning. In that case, her smile was probably one of delight at the thought of how she would kill me.
Third: both.
She might have taken the letter hoping to be punished, only to discover by chance that it came from the slave trader.
That would leave me entirely at the mercy of an elf who had caught me trying to get rid of her.
Calm down.
All three possibilities were dreadful. Unfortunately, I couldn't pretend the letter wasn't there. Staying silent would accomplish nothing.
The third possibility was the worst. The second was scarcely better. The first, by comparison, was almost a blessing.
Praying that it was true, I examined the seal.
Any sign that it's been broken or tampered with?
None.
The wax seal on a letter bore the rank or family emblem of its sender, but it also served as a safeguard. Opening a sealed letter without the recipient's permission ordinarily left some visible trace.
This seal was immaculate. The elf certainly hadn't broken it open by hand.
I glanced at her, then back down at the letter.
Could she have read it with magic?
I had never heard of a spell that let someone see through sealed correspondence. But an elf powerful enough to be an archmage might possess all sorts of magic unknown to human scholars. If she wanted to look through a sheet of paper, perhaps she could.
Even so, a letter wasn't a single flat sheet. Its pages had been folded over in several layers. Could she really distinguish the writing hidden among all those folds?
No. That seems nearly impossible.
Even if she could, deciphering the contents would surely take time. She wouldn't have brought it straight to me.
Nor could she have guessed the sender's identity from the seal.
The design showed a sailboat and a dolphin. It wasn't the coat of arms of a noble house or any emblem identifying the trader's position. As far as I could tell, it was an ordinary, one-use seal chosen simply to close the envelope.
Then surely the first possibility was correct.
The elf had taken the letter without permission because she wanted me to scold her. Nothing more.
Please let there be nothing more.
“Where did you say you found this letter?”
At my question, the elf nodded, her eyes wide and innocent.
“Master, there was a letter in the mailbox, so I brought it to you.”
“I see.”
Was she lying? I had no way of knowing.
For the sake of my sanity, I decided to believe her.
Now I had to read the thing.
I turned my back to her, broke the seal with trembling fingers, and unfolded the letter.
To the great and dignified Viscount Theorad of Deharem, whose illustrious name is known far and wide,
I have read the letter Your Lordship sent me.
From it, I can see quite clearly the predicament in which you now find yourself.
It is unfortunate, certainly, but a return at this stage? I'm afraid that is out of the question.
You call our agreement unfair. In what way was it unfair? I answered your questions with the utmost courtesy. Have I said anything false?
Had you only asked, “Is an elf who is more than two hundred and fifty years old dangerous?” I would have answered that question as well.
And what was that you said about my parents and upbringing? I'm sorry to disappoint you, but both of my parents are alive and in excellent health.
As for Your Lordship's parents… please accept my deepest condolences.
Ah, one more thing. Please don't trouble yourself trying to find me. I have earned enough money to begin a new life in the Principality of Mahakhan, and I am preparing to leave.
Surely Your Lordship has no intention of pursuing me across the border? If your actions were to create a dispute between the Empire and the Principality, I fear His Majesty the Emperor would have some very harsh words for you.
I must end this reply here. Time is short, and the witch waiting beside me is already giving me a rather displeased look.
May you enjoy a peaceful and happy life with your beautiful elf.
From Jobila, a slave trader infinitely beneath Your Lordship, who nevertheless cannot help pitying the esteemed Lord Theorad.
A vein throbbed on my forehead.
That… that son of a bitch!
He was mocking me.
That slave trader was clearly mocking me!
What do you people take me for?
I was the head of the distinguished Viscount House of Deharem! A noble among nobles! A man trusted by His Excellency the Count himself!
And yet—
“Master?”
…Here I was, reduced to a miserable existence at the mercy of a deranged elven slave.
“Hmm.”
I cleared my throat, crumpled the letter, and stuffed it into my coat.
When I turned around, the elf was trembling.
Her performance was exquisite: the restless expression of a servant terrified that she had committed a grave offense.
Could my first guess have been right?
She certainly seemed to want a scolding for taking the letter. But I couldn't be sure how much else she knew.
But what was I supposed to do with that?
Ordinarily, I wouldn't consider bringing someone a letter without permission a punishable offense. If another servant had done it, I would simply have told them not to go through the mailbox again.
That wouldn't satisfy this elf.
I thought desperately for a moment, then caught a handful of her hair.
“How arrogant of a slave to rummage through the household mailbox without permission.”
“I-I didn't know…”
“Don't talk back to me, you insolent bitch!”
I raised my voice and tugged her hair upward.
“Ah!”
The elf rose onto her toes and squeezed her eyes shut. Her teeth clenched, and tears gathered at the corners of her eyes.
It's working!
Excellent. I could push the act a little further.
“I haven't even had time to express how displeased I am, and you've handled my correspondence without permission. How do you intend to make up for my discomfort?”
“I'm… I'm sorry…”
“Do I look as though I'm doing this because I want an apology from a worthless slave?”
The elf looked up at me through half-closed, tear-filled eyes. I could see the reflection of my own scowling face in them.
Then she lifted both hands and clasped my wrist.
“Y-yes… I'm a filthy sow, after all. Of course I deserve to be punished by my master. I'll gladly accept any punishment you give me, so please… let go of my hair, Master. It hurts so much…”
…Huh?
That wasn't how this was supposed to go.
My plan had been to berate her a little longer, say something along the lines of I'm sick of looking at you, so get out of my sight, and send her away.
She wants an actual punishment? More than this?
For someone who hadn't prepared anything beyond insults, that request came like a thunderbolt.
But I couldn't dismiss her now. My life was at stake. So were the lives of my family and friends.
Somehow, I had to devise a new way to satisfy her.
My mind raced, desperately adding and subtracting possibilities, until an idea struck me.
Sealing wax!
And the letter.
If I used the two together, perhaps I could come up with something she would consider an acceptable punishment.
“Very well.”
I arranged my face into a wicked smile and released her hair.
“If that's what you want, I'll oblige you. Follow me.”
For generations, the head of House Deharem's office had been treated as sacred ground.
Only the head of the family could use it. No one else could enter without his permission. Portraits of the viscounts who had led our house hung along one wall, bearing silent witness to the history and dignity of the family.
“Come in.”
“Y-yes…”
And now, for the first time in that long history, the head of House Deharem had brought a slave into the office.
A completely naked slave, at that.
“I'm… so ashamed…”
The elf entered with her body hunched over, covering her breasts with both hands.
She made no attempt to cover herself lower down, leaving my gaze to fall there almost against my will.
Let me make one thing clear: I had never told her to undress.
When she heard the word punishment, she had taken off her clothes on her own.
What a lunatic.
I stared at her for a moment, too baffled to speak, then went over to the desk.
There they were: little beads of sealing wax, melting spoons, and quills, all neatly arranged where they belonged.
Thank goodness. With these materials, I might survive another night.
But…
The very reason I had brought her here was that the supplies were kept in my office.
That didn't mean I could bear the thought of using this sacred room for something so disgraceful.
My conscience resisted. Cold sweat broke out across my skin, and my hands trembled. I could barely bring myself to look at the portraits on the wall.
Still, I had no choice.
If I told her to leave after bringing her all the way here, I might as well purchase a one-way ticket to the underworld.
Forgive me, Father. Please forgive me, my ancestors.
Weeping inwardly, I turned to face the elf.
Moonlight caught in her brilliant red eyes. Her expression was frightened, but beneath that fear, I could see the faintest smile on her lips—one full of anticipation.
It couldn't be helped.
“Now, let's begin tonight's sexual torture.”
If I wanted to live, I had to keep up the abuse this elf demanded.