Temptation in the Mansion (4)

The next morning.

I let out a quiet sigh as I fastened my usual brooch before the mirror. I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd handled everything badly.

Why did I do that…?

No matter how I turned it over in my mind, I couldn't understand the elf's attitude yesterday.

I'd stopped her from killing a cat that had done nothing wrong, and she'd looked as though she were the one being treated unfairly. If anyone had been wronged, it was the cat. From my point of view, she'd been prepared to kill some poor, harmless little animal for her amusement. Of course I'd been angry.

Yet the more I thought about it, the less certain I was that I'd made the right choice.

What if yesterday's scolding made the elf hate me even more? I'd have an even harder time living with her from now on.

Not that I think she likes me much to begin with…

There was no taking back what had happened. All I could do was wonder how she intended to torment me today.

I looked more miserable by the second.

This won't do.

I finished adjusting my brooch and patted both cheeks to bring myself to my senses.

Pull yourself together, Theorad. The servants here and the workers in your workshop look to you.

I was responsible for keeping this household fed. If the head of the family walked around with a gloomy expression, everyone working for him would grow uneasy as well.

Smile. Don't be an idiot.

I ordered myself to smile at the mirror.

The result was horrifying. The corners of my mouth rose, then trembled as though they were being held in place by force.

After staring at that face for a while, I gave a weak laugh and lowered my head. The hand I braced against the dressing table looked strangely pitiful.

…I don't want to go out.

If I were allowed to do what I wanted, I'd lock myself in my room and read a favorite book until the day was over.

To tell the truth, if I hadn't been my father's only son—if there had been someone else to inherit the family—I never would have taken on the duties of its head.

The burden sometimes felt too great to carry. I wanted to run away from it. But everyone in the household put their trust in me.

Theorad Deharem…

My father had given me that name. Wasn't I the one who had to lead House Deharem now?

I pushed down the weakness in my heart and raised my head again. This time my smile was bitter, but at least it looked like a real smile.

I was practicing how to speak with some confidence when—

Knock, knock.

A familiar knock sounded at my door. There was only one person who usually visited at this hour.

“Come in.”

The door opened to reveal Havid in his neat tailcoat. He bowed respectfully.

Something was different about him today: a monocle rested over one eye.

Puzzled, I pointed toward it.

“Chamberlain, that…”

“Ah. You mean this?”

Havid touched the monocle, lifting and settling it again.

“My eyesight has been getting worse recently, so I bought myself a lens. Thanks to Your Lordship's generosity with our pay and bonuses, I could afford it. The other servants and workshop slaves are grateful as well. They've been buying the everyday things they need.”

“I see. It suits you very well.”

“Ha ha. You're too kind to flatter me.”

“I'm not flattering you. I hope I can grow old as gracefully as you have. And I'm sincerely grateful to have someone as dependable as you looking after my mansion.”

Havid's eyes widened.

His shoulders shook. For a moment he seemed to have forgotten how to speak. Then he snatched a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiped his eyes.

The old man's mouth twisted as he struggled to hold back tears. At last he pressed a fist over his heart, looking as though he couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry.

“My lord…! Until the day I die—no, even beyond death, I shall remain loyal to you!”

“…Chamberlain?”

What had brought all that on?

I never knew what to do when someone's emotions changed so abruptly. After an awkward pause, I straightened my back and cleared my throat.

“Anyway, what brings you here so early? I assume you have something to report.”

“Ah, yes. Lady Branda, eldest daughter of Baron Frederi of the Kingdom of Agela, has arrived in response to Your Lordship's invitation.”

“Lady Branda?”

Yesterday, after sending the elf off to bathe, I'd written a reply inviting Lady Branda to visit whenever it suited her. I'd sent it by witch express, so it would have reached her the same day—but had she already come?

Was she staying somewhere near the mansion overnight?

Either way, it was terribly sudden.

Unless two families were already close, noble etiquette called for leaving a day or two between arranging a visit and actually appearing. This woman apparently didn't care about such things.

Are all the nobles of Agela so free with their manners?

I couldn't very well turn away a guest who was already inside my home.

“Please tell her I'll join her shortly, and ask her to wait until then.”

Havid bowed.

“Of course, my lord.”

His footsteps receded down the corridor.

I turned back to the mirror to inspect my clothes one last time.

---

Crunch.

Lerazie took another bite of her apple and surveyed the drawing room at her leisure.

The servants stood along the walls with their hands folded neatly before them. House Deharem's treatment of its guests was remarkably attentive.

One servant in particular drew her interest.

There she is.

It was the elf she'd seen yesterday through the eyes of her familiar.

Silver hair fell all the way to the woman's waist, and her eyes shone a deep bloodred. She was so lovely that even Lerazie, ordinarily certain of her own beauty, had to acknowledge it.

And her face was hardly the only remarkable thing. Even a modest maid's uniform couldn't conceal the full curve of her breasts or the beauty of her figure. Several of the male servants were stealing glances at her. With looks like those, how could they help it?

If she'd been born a dream demon, she might have threatened my position.

Dream demons drew strength from the energy they took from men. Beauty was therefore a blessing to their kind: the more alluring they were, the more men would cling to them, willing to surrender themselves.

Well, being beautiful is an advantage even if you're something else.

Lerazie propped her chin on one hand and giggled.

Theorad would probably take a while to appear. In the meantime, she wanted to have a word with the elf.

She raised a hand.

“Excuse me. I've finished my fruit.”

At her beckoning, a female attendant approached with another apple on a tray.

The fruit had been raised with special care and treated with magic to bring out its sweetness. Its skin had been left intact to preserve its freshness.

“I'll slice it for you right away,” the attendant said, lifting a small fruit knife.

Lerazie shook her head.

“I'm sorry, but could you ask that elf to do it instead?”

“Ah. Certainly, if that's what you'd prefer.”

The attendant set down the apple and went to speak quietly to the elf. After a few words, the elf nodded and came to Lerazie's table.

Lerazie greeted her with a bright smile.

“Oh, my. I never imagined I'd see an elf in person. I thought your kind existed only in fairy tales.”

“Is that so?”

The answer was flat.

Without showing the slightest interest in conversation, the elf picked up the knife and began to peel the apple.

Lerazie tapped the tabletop, displeased.

“Excuse me. I'm a guest in this mansion, aren't I? And I came here with Viscount Theorad's permission. You do understand that?”

“I do.”

“Then could you be a little kinder? Being treated so coldly is rather hurtful.”

“I am being kind.”

The elf removed the peel and divided the apple into neat, bite-sized slices. Her precise, economical movements would have done a chef proud.

“What more kindness are you expecting?”

Still speaking without a hint of emotion, the elf pushed the plate toward her.

A vein throbbed at Lerazie's temple.

Disguise or no disguise, she'd come to this mansion in the position of a noble guest. Yet this mere servant kept looking down on her and speaking as though Lerazie were the subordinate.

Her anger boiled over.

“Listen! I'm the eldest daughter of Baron Frederi's family, of the Kingdom of Agela!”

“Is that so?”

Is that so?

Lerazie was past anger and into disbelief. She breathed out sharply and gave the elf an openly furious look.

“Do you have any idea how rude you're being?”

At her raised voice, the other servants began to stir. They muttered among themselves that someone ought to intervene, perhaps fetch the head chamberlain. But no one stepped forward.

“…I apologize if I seemed rude,” the elf said at last. “I've never been properly taught.”

At least she had stopped talking back.

The hurried apology did little to cool Lerazie's anger, but she'd come here for a purpose. She couldn't afford to lose control now.

“I'm glad you understand. I hope you'll be more careful in future.”

“Of course. But, my lady…”

The elf looked her over with a slight frown, as though she'd noticed something puzzling.

“Do you like animals?”

“Pardon? Animals?”

What an odd question to ask out of nowhere.

The elf brought her hands together, looking faintly apologetic.

“Forgive me if this is rude as well. I thought I saw something like animal fur on the hem of your dress.”

Fur? Did some get on me when I changed?

Lerazie hadn't paid much attention to her clothes. It was careless of her, but there was no reason to deny liking animals. Being a baron's daughter didn't prevent a person from feeding strays.

She gave a light laugh and waved the matter away.

“Oh, that? Before I came here, I met a poor stray puppy in the street. I felt sorry for the little thing and stopped to feed it.”

“Oh…”

She had hoped the explanation would put an end to the matter.

Instead, the elf's expression went cold.

The air around her seemed to chill in an instant. Lerazie felt a sudden nervousness she couldn't explain.

W-why is she looking at me like that?

An inexplicable fear prickled across her skin. As a bead of cold sweat formed, the elf pursed her lips and asked in a voice that sounded more like an interrogation:

“Are you sure it was a puppy?”

At that moment, Lerazie knew something had gone wrong.