The Demon Lord's Lovers (2)
At dawn, when the faint light gently signaled the start of the day, Beatrice emerged from her quarters and headed toward the Demon Lord Castle's dining hall. Her first task was to select the ingredients for the meals of the Demon Lord and other important figures. Only after that could she prepare the meals to be distributed to the laborers. Since other kitchen staff handled the workers' meals, she focused on overall direction and management before turning to her primary duty of preparing food for the key personnel.
Yet Beatrice's usual routine had begun to falter. "Again today?" she said, her displeasure plain on her face. Several of the dining hall staff responsible for the workers' meals had dragged themselves in looking half-dead from exhaustion. When questioned, they offered only vague excuses—poor sleep, sudden illness, or simply "I don't know." The problem was that this had been going on for a full week, leaving Beatrice unable to focus properly on preparing meals for the important figures. Those who arrived on time were the fortunate ones; some had even collapsed and failed to show up at all. The resulting shortage of hands forced Beatrice to help prepare the workers' meals herself.
"My body feels a bit weak lately… I'm sorry." "It's fine. I'll have someone else handle the stove. Just wash the potatoes." Worried that drowsiness might ruin the fire control, Beatrice assigned him a simpler task. All he had to do was soak the potatoes in water and rinse off the dirt—a straightforward job. The man looked visibly relieved, but Beatrice's gaze grew colder still.
Once breakfast service ended, Beatrice stepped out of the dining hall to attend to other matters. She needed to track down the staff who had failed to appear by the end of the meal. Normally, Beatrice was strict about repeated rule violations. She could overlook one or two mistakes, but habitual offenses struck her as a matter of attitude. In particular, repeated absences from duty suggested laziness and laxity, so she would punish offenders until they wept and prostrated themselves. In the current situation, however, all she could do was visit the absent workers' quarters, wake them, and bring them in. She could hardly berate or scold people who claimed their health had genuinely deteriorated. She sensed they were making excuses and that another reason lay behind their absences, yet she lacked sufficient grounds to punish them.
"What on earth is the problem?!" An angry shout rang out as she walked. Nella had lined up several workers and was raising her voice. Beatrice knew that as a commander, Nella could be stern and strict—quite unlike her usual calm, considerate demeanor—but the intensity now was fiercer still, making her seem like a fire-breathing dragon. "I already gave you a day off because you said you were exhausted! When you still claimed to be unwell, I granted another day! And when you insisted you were still sick, I told you to get examined and rest one more day!" "B-but I really have no strength left…!" "Didn't the military doctor say there was nothing wrong?! We even requested an examination at the clinic in Under Barkus, and they found nothing either! Even the magic management office's Scan showed no abnormalities and diagnosed simple fatigue! How can you still complain of exhaustion after three days of rest?!"
Though strict when giving orders, Nella's true nature was warm and kind. She cared deeply for others, helped whenever someone was in trouble, and enjoyed protecting those around her. The fact that she was now seething with such fury meant the problem was glaringly obvious. Beatrice's already sour expression grew even chillier.
After dinner, during the cleanup, Beatrice was salting big boar meat for the next day. Normally this task belonged to a staff member who had already been trained, but he had complained of fatigue and left early, so Beatrice was doing it herself. Other kitchen workers were likewise staying late to cover for those who had gone home early. She still needed to coordinate with the cooks in Caboni Forest and check on ingredient management at the farms in Under Barkus, yet she was so busy she could only remain tied to the dining hall. This abnormal routine, which had begun the day Nella had her first experience, had now lasted a full week. If things continued this way, Beatrice would either have to abandon her other duties and devote herself entirely to the dining hall or lower the quality of the food and prepare it carelessly. She could have dismissed the complaining workers and hired replacements, but since they would likely suffer the same fatigue doing other work, it would only pass the problem along like a hot potato—an option she could not easily choose. Nor could she, as a Demon Lord army officer, focus solely on dining hall work, nor could she allow poor-quality meals to be served. Suppressing her frustration with nowhere to direct it, Beatrice simply continued sprinkling salt.
"Um…" While she sighed and salted the meat, a goblin approached and spoke to her. The young goblin boy, looking extremely timid, appeared to be about five years old. He helped with small errands in the kitchen. Though smaller than an adult goblin, he had grown enough to work and took pride in assisting the adults. Given goblins' rapid growth to adulthood, his actual age was probably even younger than five. "What is it?" "…I… I know why the uncles have been feeling sick lately…"
For an instant, Beatrice's eyes flashed with a chilling light. She quickly reined in her presence, but even that brief moment had terrified the goblin boy, who trembled visibly. Beatrice calmly knelt to meet his gaze, gently patted his head, and continued. "You needn't be afraid. I'm not angry with you. I simply want to hear the information you know."
Facing the frightened goblin boy at eye level, Beatrice's expression was gentle and kind. Already intimidated by her title as a Demon Lord army officer, the boy had been petrified by the terrifying aura she had briefly released, but her warm demeanor gradually melted away his fear. Swallowing once and steadying himself, the goblin boy clenched his fists as if making a decision and spoke. "Every night, I've seen the uncles going into the witch's house!" "…You mean Hestinia Wiswitch?" "Yes!!"
Beatrice had not expected that name to surface, and her curiosity about the matter deepened. Sensing the need for a private, in-depth conversation, she handed the salting work to someone else and led the goblin boy to her quarters. She considered summoning Nella, who had also suffered from the same issue, but the mention of Hestinia gave her a bad feeling, so she decided against it. She suspected that any matter involving the dark and scheming witch was unlikely to be straightforward, and she saw no reason to drag pure-hearted women like Lusteria or Nella into it. Crawford, with his rigid sense of justice, would likely escalate things into a major incident if ethical lines were crossed. Beriberi was far too busy to spare time for such matters. As for Oun and Artis, they were not even suitable to consult. Above all, she could not allow this trivial affair to reach the Demon Lord's ears and disturb her. Beatrice resolved to handle the matter alone if possible. Her steps toward her quarters, with the goblin boy in tow, felt unusually heavy.