A Fiancée I Don't Want to Lose
Sunlight poured gently through the arched windows into the study. The room, floored with a black velvet carpet embroidered with the phoenix emblem symbolizing the family, was a sacred space reserved solely for the family head. Even I, the son of my father, could not enter without his permission. There, I was composing myself, elegantly penning a letter.
Slave trader Jobilara,
I am Theorad Deharm, who purchased an elf slave from you ten days ago. First, allow me to apologize for my own mistake. At the time, I was deceived by the elf's appearance and hastily paid the price, claiming ownership of the elf slave. With the slave certificate received and the branding contract completed, I have no intention of denying that the transaction was finalized.
However, Jobilara, this is clearly an unfair contract. Even if you informed me of the elf's age, you did not warn me of the dangers posed by an elf over two hundred and fifty years old. This is deception against me and an insult to the entire slave market, which operates on trust. As an aside, upon realizing this, I even worried that you might have been orphaned young. Without proper upbringing, one might make such a mistake once.
But I shall not forgive it twice. Come at once to the Deharm Viscount family in Pelgaroin County and take back the elf slave. If you refuse my request or fail to reply, I shall not forgive you, staking the honor of the Deharm Viscount family. We shall discuss the details face-to-face.
I end this letter here. Theorad Deharm, seventh head of the Deharm Viscount family and deputy viscount assisting His Excellency the Count in Pelgaroin County, sends his regards.
Finishing the letter, I set down my quill and waited for the ink to dry.
A masterpiece.
Appropriate threats toward one's inferiors were basic noble etiquette. Upon receiving this, the slave trader would surely recognize the gravity of the situation and come crawling with apologies. If he took the elf back afterward, it would be perfect. I could uproot this time bomb planted in my family—no better solution existed. And it would benefit the elf too. Meeting a truly rotten noble instead of me, forced to sell her, might allow her a happier life. A win-win, a case of killing two birds with one stone.
I let my smirking lips be, folded the letter, slipped it into an envelope, poured sealing wax, and stamped the family crest. With the Deharm seal on it, I could only regret not seeing the slave trader's twisted face upon receipt.
Knock knock—
A knock interrupted my wicked grin. I cleared my throat to regain my usual dignity.
"Enter."
The door opened immediately, revealing an elderly man of neat appearance. Habid, my butler who once served my father and now served me—a man I personally trusted.
Habid smiled warmly at the sight of me and bowed with old-fashioned grace.
"Did you cough, my lord? You seem to have risen earlier than usual today."
Not earlier—I simply hadn't slept.
"I had a nightmare last night. But what brings the butler to my study? Isn't it time to manage the servants?"
Habid's smiling face twisted with guilt. Something felt off in the air.
"In truth... I witnessed a heaven-defying outrage early this morning. After finishing the guest reception, I came straight here. I felt it necessary to report to you, my lord."
"A guest? No, more importantly—what do you mean by heaven-defying outrage?"
"Regrettably... it seems someone urinated on the statue of the previous family head."
"...What?"
My eyes widened involuntarily, breath catching. What? How did he know? Who told him? Was there a witness yesterday?
"Your shock is understandable. But fortunately, we discovered this madness early. Had I not closely examined the grass at the statue's base, the culprit might have continued unchecked."
"...Traces of urine at the statue's base?"
"Yes. I confirmed it myself."
No witness, then. A relief. I steadied my pounding heart.
"How would you have me handle this, butler?"
"Since the culprit is clearly among the servants, it would be right to capture them, punish severely, and root out the evil."
"Among the servants? How can you be sure? Couldn't it be an animal?"
"Pardon? You forbade keeping animals in the mansion due to concerns over courtyard damage, my lord. Since your order, not even common birds are kept here."
Damn it. Why had I said that...!
My legs trembled, fingers numb. Was this what a blank mind felt like? Unwelcome. But as a scion of a noble house, trained in countless arts of survival, I couldn't crumble here.
"You're not wrong."
Think. Habid noticed the urine on the statue, but no witnesses. No need to arouse needless suspicion by telling him not to investigate. He wouldn't find the culprit anyway, no matter how he grilled the servants.
Yes. Act as my usual self.
"We can't leave filth on Father's statue. I'll delegate some authority to you, butler. Spare no effort in finding the culprit."
"Yes. For the honor of the previous and current heads, I shall capture them without fail."
No, don't catch them! It's me! I had the elf do it...!
Calm down. No way to get caught.
"Handle it in my stead. And this."
I held out the letter. Habid approached and took it reverently.
"Deliver this letter. Urgent business—entrust it to the witch for express delivery."
"The witch's same-day express? Understood."
Holding the letter, Habid stepped back two paces. As he tucked it away, he spoke as if remembering something.
"Ah. I forgot to mention the guest who visited the mansion."
Right—the guest.
"Who is the guest?"
"Lady Esilly, second daughter of the Pelgaroin Count family."
"Esilly?"
Esilly—my precious fiancée, arranged by the Count. Gentle in temperament, refined in appearance, selfless in her kindness, some even called her a saint. I held her in infinite esteem. Sharp-minded enough to build a family together after marriage.
I rose with a pleased smile.
"Sorry to keep her waiting. You handled the reception well, I trust?"
"Yes. I ordered the finest refreshments and had servants attend her. However, the lady..."
"However?"
"She took a liking to the elf slave, so the elf is attending her instead of the servants."
What...?
My mind blanked. Why? Why the elf of all things? Her kindness to all was praiseworthy, but not to the elf. That vile demon saw every kindness as an insult—a madwoman. Kindness was poison to her. If, by some chance, the elf grew annoyed by Esilly's persistent gentleness...
"She'll die."
"Pardon?"
"She'll die..!"
Sweating coldly, trembling, I watched Habid give an awkward smile.
"Such excessive jesting, my lord. You know Lady Esilly doesn't mistreat slaves. Enough idle talk—why not join her for tea?"
Damn it! Shut up if you don't know! One misstep, and it's not a tea party—it's a corpse party! Corpses piling up, you naive fool!
"Ahem."
I wanted to shout, but Habid wouldn't believe me. Even I wouldn't. The elf I bought as a slave was actually an archmage powerhouse? Absurd. Only I knew her age exceeded 250 in the mansion. Telling the servants would cause chaos. And the elf wouldn't let me off...
"To the drawing room, then."
Indeed. To prevent the worst, I'd have to block the elf myself. Like a swordsman entering the arena. Screaming inwardly, I left the room.
A warm, sunny morning. Butler Habid rose earlier than any servant and strolled the courtyard. His impeccably tailored tailcoat, slicked-back hair, neatly trimmed mustache, and polished shoes were his pride and trademark. Polishing shoes and grooming daily was no small inconvenience, but Habid endured it readily.
For the family's honor, such trifles are nothing.
To Habid, who had served the Deharm Viscount family since childhood and risen to butler, the family's honor was his own. The butler's attire and bearing represented the family. He couldn't skip grooming out of laziness. Nor his daily morning visit to the previous head's statue in the courtyard.
Stopping before the statue, Habid clasped his hands and bowed lightly.
"May you rest in peace there. From your lofty heaven, watch over the mansion's servants and your son today, I pray."
As he finished and raised his head, Habid froze. Something was amiss around the statue.
The grass at the statue's base is flattened.
Why would upright grass lie flat overnight? No pets in the mansion, so not a dog.
Who approached the previous head's statue so closely?
The current head? No, Theorad always paid respects two paces away. Servants? Most ignored the statue; no reason to approach. Slaves? They worked fields or workshops outside, rarely entering the courtyard unless special circumstances. Ruled out.
Then who?
Staring at the flattened grass, Habid knelt to inspect for traces. To identify the culprit more easily.
No footprints, nothing else... Hm?
A sharp scent brushed his nose. A faint lingering aroma. Curious, Habid sniffed closer and identified it.
...Urine?
The acrid tang was unmistakably urine.
Urine? On the previous head's statue?
Outrageous! Teeth grinding, cheeks quivering, Habid clenched his fists in fury and sprang up.
Who? Gularm? Karasin? Maltaro?
Three misbehaving servants came to mind, but no certainty. He wanted to assemble them and berate, but protocol demanded reporting to the head first.
Just wait. Whoever it is, they won't escape punishment.
Swallowing his rage, Habid stormed from the courtyard, face flushed.