Bad Man Theorad (4)
Theorad Deharm, out on the street with Esilly Pelgaroin in tow, chattered away with a bright, sunny face about all sorts of things. Esilly nodded along to his scattered topics, finding it enjoyable at first, but the dark fatigue under his eyes inevitably stirred pity in her. Before he'd met the Elf, he'd had a healthy, upright face; now he looked somehow frail and sickly. It created a subtle sense of unease.
"I visited the farm recently, and it looks like the pepper plant breeding has been a complete success. At this rate, the Empire might even start producing its own pepper! If cultivation succeeds, I'll send the Pelgaroin family the first gift. Father-in-law would surely be pleased."
When he spoke so brightly like this, the darkness under his eyes felt pitiful and out of place, but when he turned serious and spoke coldly, it suited him all too well.
—Cute. Me, the head of the Deharm family.
It would be a lie to say her heart hadn't fluttered then. The ridiculous cat ears on his head hadn't even bothered her.
"Ah, this is the shop Baynen Brokena and I visited before. Since we're at the market, how about settling for a meal here? The food's quite good."
She'd thought there was nothing she didn't know about him, having met since childhood, but this man truly had charms in every direction. Even the fact that he couldn't gauge his own appeal made him all the more endearing.
She could almost understand why the Elf was so obsessed with him...
"Esilly?"
Theorad's questioning snapped her from her reverie. Esilly blinked innocently, coming back to herself.
"Yes?"
"I asked if you'd like to go in and eat."
"Ah, yes, food? Of course! Shall we?"
Her response was a bit hasty, but Theorad decided not to mind.
"Sure."
Inside the shop unfolded a quaint, old-fashioned interior. Narrower than the family dining hall, but that very coziness had its charm.
"Wow, it's a lovely place."
"And the food's delicious too."
They exchanged brief smiles. A server approached to guide them to a table, and they sat by the window to order.
"Got it. Coming right up."
Theorad fiddled with his headband, looking intrigued by the server's casual demeanor.
"This is impressive."
Last time with Baynen Brokena, the server had been trembling in fear; now they took the order in perfect calm and vanished. With the lady of Pelgaroin County and the head of Deharm here, more tension was expected, yet the perception impairment magic was working flawlessly—the server acted as if nothing was amiss.
"It's an item someone gave me."
Esilly cleared her throat with an ahem and puffed out her chest proudly. Theorad deliberately lifted his gaze. Her ample bosom stood out prominently, leaving him flustered.
"It's an authentic product certified by the famed Magic Tower. High versatility and popularity—apparently used often at secret meetings."
"Secret meetings. Not wrong."
A faintly bitter smile tugged at Theorad's lips. Esilly, watching him sadly, coughed and changed the subject.
"More importantly, I have news about the Elf. I did some investigating on my own, and I found something surprisingly interesting."
"Interesting fact?"
"Yes. So far, not a single record of the 'red-eyed Elf' exists. At least, nothing in the Magic Tower library."
What did that mean? It didn't make sense. Wasn't the red-eyed Elf right there in the mansion? Having lived for ages, she must have been observed by someone, and records would naturally follow.
Theorad frowned like a man at an impasse, a chill running up his spine.
"Could it be... what I thought was an Elf isn't actually...?"
"No, her race is definitely Elf. No records, but there are oral traditions. A proverb among slave hunters: 'Meet the red-eyed Elf, and your line ends in three generations.'"
"No records, but passed down orally? Is that possible?"
"Not impossible."
Esilly spoke gravely, compiling her intel.
"She probably disguised herself while wandering the world. If her identity was ever exposed and recorded, she might have erased them all. Or some organization tied to Elves works in the shadows to wipe records clean."
"Even so, no historical mention of a red-eyed Elf at all—"
"An extremely rare privileged class."
Esilly cut him off, her eyes gleaming.
"Or a mutant. If red-eyed Elves were common, records would exist somehow. Otherwise, erasing every trace is practically impossible."
Cold sweat beaded on Theorad's forehead. He was gripped by a bigger fish than imagined.
"So the Elf getting captured as a slave was planned from the start?"
"Exactly. More precisely, she pretended to be captured. To be sold to you, Sir Theorad. The slave trader was likely threatened too."
"Come to think of it..."
It had been odd. The trader dumped all other slaves and fled to the duchy right after the sale. Like a man scared out of his wits.
"That's all I uncovered. One more thing..."
Esilly trailed off. Theorad's hands on the table trembled pathetically.
Already cornered mentally, realizing the Elf was even more immense—it was natural he couldn't calm down. More Elf talk might push him into panic.
Not wanting that, Esilly pulled a vial from her handbag on her lap.
"Ta-da!"
Theorad looked up unconsciously at the vial. Blue liquid sloshed inside.
"...What's that?"
"A nutrient tonic packed with good stuff for the body. Bought it expensive for you, hardworking Sir Theorad."
"Esilly..."
It was nothing special, but his touched reaction embarrassed her.
Esilly pressed the vial into his hand and smiled softly.
"Drink it before eating? That's when it works best."
"Now?"
"If you would."
Theorad uncapped it and downed the contents. Slightly bitter, he grimaced.
"Not the best taste."
"Good medicine never is. I'll use the restroom."
Theorad nodded, and Esilly rose gracefully. After relieving herself, she habitually opened her handbag—and froze in confusion.
Huh...?
Another vial was there. Same blue liquid, but the cap was light gray.
Light gray was definitely the nutrient tonic. So why was it still in the bag after giving it to him?
Thinking back, Esilly remembered getting a "personality amplifier potion" for free from Dremes during a deal with Maldon Pelgaroin. She'd shoved it in unwillingly and forgotten. She'd mixed up the caps and fed that to Theorad.
Oh no...!
Meant to comfort him, she'd made things worse. The effect must be kicking in—he'd probably be raging at the server by now.
Esilly dashed out, and sure enough, there was Theorad arguing with a server.
I have to stop him...!
Even with perception impairment magic, prolonged talk would reveal who he was. Rumors would spread the instant the server realized it was Theorad Deharm throwing a fit.
Hurrying to the table, Esilly slowed at the voices.
"Look at this food you brought."
On the table, steaming macaroni. A single hair stuck in the sauce.
"See the hair?"
"Ah...!"
The server startled, bowing deeply.
"S-Sorry!"
"Last time with the knight, you made the same mistake. Chefs always wear head coverings. Kitchen's hot, sure, but don't forget your duty."
"Truly sorry. How can I compensate...?"
"Compensate? You think I called you for that? Listen well. If hair shows up again, I'll call the head chef an idiot. Got it?"
The bowing server eyed him curiously.
"Pardon? What did you say...?"
"Deaf? I said idiot. Calling a hardworking person an idiot is deeply shameful. Isn't it?"
"It is, but..."
"Then tell the head chef: if it happens again, I'll call you an idiot."
That was it? The server glanced at Theorad, who waved dismissively, annoyed.
"Business done. Go."
"C-Can I really go?"
"Don't make me say it twice."
Zing.
Flinching under his gaze, the server bowed and retreated to the kitchen.
Esilly fiddled with her handbag, overcome by an indescribable emotion.
Um...
Dremes, who built her business on trust, wouldn't give fakes. So Theorad must be under the "evil personality amplifier" effect—yet the scene didn't match.
His words had more edge than usual, but it was justified complaint. Passing over hair last time was the odd part.
No matter how she looked...
He's just normally kind...?
No real difference from usual.