The Courtyard Trap
As Theorad entered the Deharm Mansion, Habid came rushing over in a flurry. The butler dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief before clasping his hands together politely and bowing his head.
"Welcome back, my lord."
"Yes."
"I apologize for not greeting you at the gates. There were matters that needed handling, so I've been quite occupied..."
Apologizing so profusely just for being late to meet me. Habid's professional ethic was admirable, but his deference sometimes felt burdensome. Theorad gently placed a hand on the butler's shoulder to reassure him.
"Think nothing of it. I've long known how diligently you serve the family."
"My lord..."
A faint glimmer of emotion welled in Habid's eyes. Isn't that a bit over the top? Feeling awkward, Theorad cleared his throat and started walking, with Habid falling in step beside him.
Theorad glanced sidelong at the butler. "More importantly, what was this matter you had to handle? Has something happened at the mansion?"
"Oh, no, nothing to worry about. I was just returning from delivering a message to the cathedral in the local parish, requesting they dispatch an inquisitor."
"...An inquisitor?"
Why? As Theorad feigned surprise, Habid offered a steadfast smile.
"Did you not say you would take responsibility for finding the one who desecrated the previous lord's statue? You even permitted using some of the family's authority."
"That's true."
"So, I invoked the family name and informed the cathedral's clergy. I told them that someone who violated the precepts of the Light God—laid down for the human world—had appeared at our mansion, and that you, my lord, requested an inquisitor be sent."
Are you insane, Habid? The culprit is standing right in front of you! Theorad wanted to scream, but he couldn't let it show. Composing himself, he cleared his throat with feigned composure.
"And what did the clergy say?"
"They said they would inform the bishop after Mass. They added that the bishop himself was eager to repay the Deharm Viscountcy's generosity."
"Then there's a high chance an inquisitor will visit the mansion."
"Indeed. A most auspicious event."
"Auspicious, you say."
It wasn't wrong—auspicious for everyone but him. It was auspicious (auspicious event) for the family, but for Theorad, it spelled doom (celebratory death). He'd always believed he'd lived devoutly, never straying from the church's teachings, yet now he faced being branded a heretic through sheer misfortune.
Worse, inquisitors were fanatics who revered only the Light God, heedless of social rank.
If the inquisitor uncovers my lie...
He'd be marked not just for making a slave urinate on his father's statue, but for compounding it with lies to cover it up. The moment the inquisitor reported back to the bishop, Theorad would face the church's judgment tribunal. The family's assets would be seized, and the Deharm name itself might cease to exist. Even if the saintess showed mercy, the family's reputation would plummet irreparably. The admiring gazes of the territory's people would turn to disgust in an instant.
It's terrifying...
Visions of a fallen noble's wretched end made cold sweat trickle down his back. Of course, this was just one hypothetical. There were plenty of ways to emerge unscathed. The surest was to subjugate the Elf himself and clear his name. Forcing the truth from a neutralized Elf would prove his innocence unequivocally.
Regaining his confidence, Theorad turned to Habid. "You're right. If an inquisitor comes as the Light God's representative, we should welcome it. With that in mind, how about we hold a worship service for about an hour?"
"Pardon? Prayer, you mean?"
"Yes. Gather the servants and slaves who are off duty now. As head butler, lead them to the chapel on the grounds for a simple service. Our faith in the Light God must be steadfast if the inquisitor is to proceed smoothly, don't you think?"
"Ho ho. Indeed...!"
Habid nodded gravely. "Understood. I'll summon the off-duty servants and slaves for worship. Will you join us, my lord?"
"I'll pray separately in the study. I have work to finish."
"Very well. We must depart before sunset, so we'll begin the service now."
"Good thinking. Oh, and one more thing."
Theorad added casually, as if it had just occurred to him. "Don't bring the head chef. I'm famished, so instruct him to prepare dinner right after his duties end."
"Yes, I'll see to it."
Habid's unquestioning obedience was a relief. He bowed deeply and departed. Watching his retreating figure, Theorad smirked to himself.
Alibi secured.
By sending the off-duty servants outside, he'd eliminate witnesses. The Elf, playing the lowly slave, couldn't refuse the butler's orders and would go to the chapel too. That gave him ample time to set the trap. Even if the "Elf hunt" failed, the servants would attest that "Theorad prayed in the study then dined," preventing the Elf from fingering him as the culprit.
A perfect plan. Suppressing a grin, Theorad strolled toward the mansion's courtyard. He smiled indulgently at the servants he passed, lingering in the colonnade for ten minutes until the off-duty ones—including the Elf—had left.
That should do it.
Gauging the time, he grabbed a shovel from a shadowed corner of the colonnade and headed to the courtyard's center. No matter how well the "Great Beast Hunting Weapon" blended via camouflage and transformation, a crafty Elf might suspect sudden terrain changes.
If I'm doing this, I need to do it right.
Pity about damaging the courtyard, but convicting the Elf made it a small price. He dug a shallow hole, placed the weapon on the ground, lifted the slate, and pressed the top button. The box morphed into a flat stone tile. Covering it with soil and tamping it smooth, he ensured it was undetectable unless scrutinized.
Arrogant Elf bitch. You thought you'd gotten me, huh?
Imagining her stepping on it, realizing her mistake, and weeping made laughter bubble up uncontrollably. Giggling foolishly, he returned the shovel and headed to the study. Halfway there already.
Seated in the study, he waited calmly for judgment hour.
*
An hour later, the sound of returning servants heading to their rooms echoed. The Elf would be among them. Having heard from Habid that Theorad was dining, she'd come to her room's dog bowl for her beating.
The shortest path to the dining hall crossed the courtyard. She'd pass unsuspectingly over the buried weapon, and he'd detonate it then.
"Hoo."
Exhaling deeply, Theorad stood and hid behind the curtains. Peeking out, he spotted the Elf entering the courtyard as expected, dog bowls in both hands.
Gulp.
His sweaty palm gripped the slate, thumb on the bottom button. A pang of pity hit as she hummed obliviously, but thoughts of her past deeds erased it. Steel resolve, he watched, timing it perfectly.
As her foot landed on the trap, he pressed without hesitation.
Boom—!
The earth-shaking explosion lit the mansion like midday with soaring flames. Smoke billowed thickly.
Did it work?
Anxiously watching, the smoke cleared. A dog bowl clattered belatedly to the ground. Amid dispersing haze, the Elf emerged.
"Huh...?"
Failure. Her sackcloth burned raggedly across her chest, but her silver hair and porcelain skin were pristine. No sign of distress—just bafflement and irritation at the odd event.
Shit!
He'd considered failure, but not total unscathed. Heart pounding, pupils dilating like a guilty man's, he steadied his trembling hands, hurled the slate into a drawer, and bolted from the room.
Nobles weren't to run, but exceptions applied! Sprinting down stairs two at a time, he burst into the dining hall and slumped at the table.
Pretend to eat...!
The pre-requested meal awaited. He shoveled salad and meat with a fork, choking down wine to clear his throat, devouring half when—
Knock knock.
The chill knock reverberated. Forcing calm, he swallowed everything and spoke.
"Come in."
The door opened immediately. The Elf entered, charred rags barely clothing her, dog bowls in hand, staring blankly. Her emotionless eyes chilled him to the bone.
Suppressing creeping dread, he acted desperately.
"What happened to your clothes? Something wrong?"
No reply. He dabbed his mouth with a handkerchief, hiding the twitch at his lips. His legs, hidden by the table, shook uncontrollably.
"......"
After a long silence, she chewed her lip. "It seems someone played a nasty prank in the courtyard, Master."
Her flat tone gutted him.
"Who on earth would pull such a stunt?"
Her eyes bulged in deadpan fury. Like a frog before a serpent, amid peak terror, one truth dawned.
Maybe I...
Die today.