Bad Boy Theorad (5)
I hadn't thought that making Theorad take the drug would turn the world's biggest trash heap into a total scumbag, but I figured he'd at least become a bit neurotic and violent...
The Theorad standing before me was just a touch pricklier in his speech than usual—still kind at heart. How was I supposed to take this?
Esilly hesitated, unable to approach easily, when Theorad sensed her presence and looked up. His sharpened gaze fixed steadily on her.
"What are you doing."
His deep, alluring baritone tickled her ears softly.
"The food's out. Come sit down. Don't block the aisle and bother the staff."
"Ah... Yes..."
Esilly obediently took a seat at the table. Theorad shot her a quick glare before picking up his knife to slice into the steak. His actions were the same as always, but the atmosphere felt subtly different. Where the old Theorad's arrogant tone hid a pure innocence, the words from this Theorad carried a sense that some of that purity had worn away.
The drug must be working, at least a little.
Esilly stared at his face, inwardly fascinated, until Theorad paused with a piece of meat halfway to his mouth. His gaze landed on her like he was looking at something pathetic.
"Did you come here to eat or what."
Esilly flinched in surprise and hurriedly grabbed her knife.
"Y-yes! To eat, of course. Eat."
"Then stop spacing out. You look like an idiot."
Tsk. Theorad clicked his tongue softly, popped the meat into his mouth, and chewed steadily. Thanks to that, Esilly sliced her steak with her spirits deflated. Even if he wasn't his usual self, being called an idiot stung a little. Still, she'd started it, so she had no room to complain.
Esilly ate in silence, and the quiet stretched on for quite a while.
"Hold on."
It was around the time he'd eaten half his steak. Theorad set down his knife, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and leaned forward, lightly extending his arm. Swish, swish—the handkerchief in his hand gently wiped the corners of Esilly's mouth.
After cleaning her up, Theorad folded the handkerchief twice and tucked it away.
"Don't walk around with food smeared on your face. It's sloppy."
"Ah... Sorry..."
"You should be sorry. Esilly, who are you?"
The sudden question threw her off. Esilly paused awkwardly before answering.
"The youngest daughter of Count Leoberg and a member of the Pelgaroin family."
"Wrong."
His light brown eyes narrowed gently, as if brimming with truth.
"You're my fiancée. The one who'll lead the Deharm family alongside me one day. In crude terms, you're my woman."
Theorad's casual words set Esilly's face ablaze.
"So keep your dignity at all times, wherever you are. Not just for yourself and Count Leoberg's honor, but for your future husband's reputation—mine. Got it?"
"S-suddenly saying that..."
"Don't like it? If not, speak your mind freely. I'll accommodate you as much as possible."
Esilly shook her head vigorously. How could she not like it? Marrying Theorad had been her dream since childhood...
"Good. Esilly Pelgaroin, just to avoid any misunderstanding—I'm not dumping all the duty on you. I'll watch my own dignity too, so I don't bring harm to you or the Pelgaroin family. Understood?"
"Y-yes... Yes..."
One embarrassing line after another left her voice deflating. Afterward, Esilly avoided eye contact with Theorad as much as possible to finish her meal. Meeting his gaze might make her break into a silly grin without warning.
Once done eating, Esilly and Theorad left the restaurant and strolled the streets, enjoying a sort of date. The one issue? The drug's effects lasted far longer than expected.
"I thought you were sharp, but you're hopeless at this. With such unstable footing, how do you expect to hit the target? I'll correct your form from behind—follow my lead."
He'd suddenly grab her waist to "help her shoot properly."
"This earring looks like it'd suit you. With your beauty, flashy ones would clash. Simple suits you better. Come here."
While browsing jewelry, he'd tuck her side-swept hair behind her ear and leisurely inspect it.
Such bizarre behavior left her flustered.
"Don't look at other men. It pisses me off seeing you eye anyone but me."
Even now, watching the juggler—he growled low with jealousy when she glanced at the man in the feathered hat out of curiosity.
S-stop it...!
Esilly felt mortified. Her mind was spinning. She didn't hate it—not at all—but...! This unfamiliar Theorad was so captivating she might get addicted.
Forcing her breathing to steady, Esilly pushed him away with an awkward smile.
"L-Lord Theorad?"
"What."
"Th-there's a stand selling delicious ice cream over there. I'll grab two— you watch the juggler here, okay?"
"We can go together if it's—"
"It's fine! It's not far; I'll be right back. Yeah?"
Theorad nodded reluctantly, and Esilly let out a deep sigh of relief as she headed to the ice cream cart. With a line forming, the crowd was thick. She joined at the very back and froze.
A woman in a wide-brimmed conical hat stood right in front of her. Slightly shorter than average... with unkempt black hair cascading messily to her waist.
Dremes?
To check, Esilly tapped her shoulder. The witch turned, scowling.
"What the hell. Why're you tapping my shoulder and starting shit? Church bitch? Back off—I'm a scary witch."
"Dremes? It's me."
"Who the fuck are you? Don't piss me off."
Why didn't she recognize her? They'd crossed paths occasionally when Dremes visited the count's castle to deal with Maldon. Growing puzzled, Esilly sighed softly. Only then did she realize the cat-ear headband was messing with recognition.
Esilly removed it and grinned brightly.
"Recognize me now?"
"Huh? Oh..."
Dremes's fierce scowl softened into a smile.
"The goody-goody lady. What brings you here? Using weird magic gear like that—sneaking out for a date with Dad? Planning to fuck or something?"
"N-no, nothing like that. I just..."
"Whatever. Kidding—don't take it so seriously. Anyway, did you try that drug I gave you?"
She had used it. Not intentionally, but...
"Yeah. It worked great. Almost too well, that's the problem."
"Nice. Want a few more? It's not popular, so I've got tons left over. Only suckers like your fiancé couldn't handle it."
"Dremes! Lord Theorad is not a sucker...! He's just kind!"
"Eww. It was a joke—why so mad? Anyway, need more?"
Esilly hesitated. More from Dremes might mean summoning this Theorad whenever she wanted. And free? Tempting. But she couldn't accept.
"...No thanks."
A faint, immature smile played on Esilly's lips as she looked at Dremes.
"The man I like is the usual Theorad."
Imperial Capital, Imperial Palace.
The office of the Empire's Third Princess and Minister of Military Affairs.
"That devil..."
Benelia narrowed her eyes, lounging on the sofa as she closed the book's final page.
Roilen, watching from the side, seized the moment.
"Your Highness. I have a report..."
Benelia held up a hand to silence him.
"Reports later. Something more important right now."
"Pardon? What might that be?"
"I need to imagine beating my second brother to death."
How was that more important than reports? Roilen stared at the ceiling, feeling an indescribable mix of emotions toward the reclining princess—but he wasn't clueless. At the recent council meeting, Benelia had branded the hawks as "traitors to the nation," earning scorn from Second Prince Leonhard as a "coward." The Emperor had backed Leonhard, ordering her temporary seclusion. No wonder she was furious.
But all this was...
"Wasn't this all part of Your Highness's plan? Provoking Prince Leonhard by disgracing the hawks to seize public sentiment—that was Your Highness's strategy."
"Who doesn't know that? The seclusion, my brother's criticism—all anticipated. But foreseen doesn't mean it doesn't piss me off. You keep visiting despite knowing I'd chew you out, so you get it."
"Please withdraw such words. Harsh words from Your Highness never anger me."
"That's because I haven't denied your entire existence."
Cold fury filled Benelia's golden eyes as she stared at the ceiling.
"During the Orc Subjugation War, at just twelve, I seized command of ten thousand troops and fought on the front lines, risking my life. What was my second brother doing? Holed up safe, indulging in pleasures. And he dares call me a coward..."
Her teeth ground together. She wanted to smash that repulsive face right then. But empty rage would just drain her. Sighing to rein it in, Benelia sat up and eyed Roilen.
"So, what’s your report?"
"Ah. Improvements to the artificial rainfall spell are progressing successfully. And the gold, silver, and treasures to commend Viscount Theorad Deharm of the Deharm family are all prepared."
"Scale?"
"A carriage full of gold and silver, fifteen horses, and enough silk to last a lifetime alone."
"Meager. Add another carriage from my personal funds."
Roilen faltered.
"Your Highness, that would be quite costly."
"Sometimes you must bleed to recruit talent. You can't tame a wolf with scraps for vultures. No arguments—add the carriage."
She'd put it so bluntly; he couldn't refuse. Roilen nodded.
"As you command."
"Oh, one more thing."
Benelia tossed a book at Roilen's feet. Its title: Secret Rendezvous with the Lady.
He knew without opening it. Erotica.
"Bring me this author."
"Pardon? Is it blaspheming the imperial family...?"
"No."
Benelia frowned.
"I found this three years ago. It was popular, so I had the Prime Minister's clerks fetch it. Masterpiece—I've reread it two years ago, one year ago, and now."
Then what was the issue? Roilen picked it up, puzzled, as Benelia continued.
"But three years later, no next volume. It's stuck saying fourteen is the final one. It ends right at the lady and mercenary's love bearing fruit. I'm dying to know what happens next, but nothing. This is deception—against me, and the imperial family."
"Your Highness...?"
"Bring the author. If they're alive, I'll kill them myself."
Joke or serious? After agonizing, Roilen decided it was one of her usual mean-spirited quips.
"Hahaha. Quite the amusing jest, Your Highness. I almost fell for—"
"Professor Roilen."
It wasn't a joke.
"Want to die with them?"
Cold sweat beading, Roilen bowed hastily.
"I stake my life and honor on capturing them!"