The Spine-Tingling Masquerade (2)
The annex's special room. Candles blazing atop the chandelier bathed the chamber in light, but they couldn't quite dispel the shadows clouding Esilly's face.
"Oppa."
Fred let out a low, awkward cough at the sight of Esilly glaring at him with girlish petulance.
"What?"
"What? That outfit of yours doesn't look like something someone here to enjoy the ball would wear, no matter how I look at it."
"What's wrong with my outfit?"
Fred shrugged nonchalantly from across the table. But all that escaped Esilly's lips was a sigh.
And small wonder. Fred was clad in a thick buff coat, a longsword strapped to his waist. A crossbow slung across his back made it hard to tell if the man before her was a hunter or a noble.
Esilly, who had a vague inkling of what that getup was meant for, couldn't shake her sense of disappointment.
"You're planning to sneak off to some shady spot again, aren't you?"
"Shady spot? I'm just enjoying the ball, gettin' drunk, and in a fit of youthful passion, heading out for a hunt."
"Who'd buy that lame excuse?"
"I trust my little sister. You'll cover for me like always."
How can he say it like it's the most obvious thing?
Esilly shot Fred a displeased look and pouted.
"But even making excuses has its limits now. The retainers aren't the only ones starting to suspect you—the servants are whispering about it too. Do I have to put up with hearing them gossip about what you're up to?"
"Sorry. But it's unavoidable."
"Unavoidable how?"
"Well..."
Fred trailed off, averting his gaze. It was always like this.
Esilly reacted with bored indifference, figuring there was nothing new here.
"Honestly, there are plenty of ways I could find out what you're up to. It's not like there aren't eyes and ears in the county working for me. But I won't."
A sly smile tugged at Fred's lips.
"Why not?"
"Because I don't particularly want to pry into the secret you're trying to protect."
"Oh. That's touching. For real."
"Too early to be touched. I don't even need to dig— I can already guess what mischief you're up to at night."
"Yeah? Then let's hear our cute little Esilly's theory."
"First, Oppa's death. And His Imperial Majesty the Emperor."
At those two clues, the smile vanished from Fred's face. Confirming Esilly's suspicions.
"You still hate His Majesty. You don't buy that the tragedy from the Orc Subjugation War was just an accident, do you?"
"Esilly."
"I get it. I don't like His Majesty either. The endless small-scale border skirmishes under the pretext of territorial defense, the stubborn diplomacy that ignores the tide of the times—it's baffling. But that shouldn't turn into outright hatred."
"You're off the mark."
"No, I'm spot on. You always twitch your pinky when you lie. Like right now."
The conversation, light at first, grew heavy. This was hardly the talk for a place meant for dancing.
But Esilly didn't back down.
"I don't know what you're scheming, but for the family's sake, stop it."
"I don't do it for the family. I don't care what happens to House Pelgaroin."
"Then at least for me and Father, carry on the Pelgaroin legacy."
Her bold push left little room for escape. Fred groaned softly, leaning back in his chair.
"You mean for me to become the next head of House Pelgaroin?"
"First off, ever since Oppa went to heaven, you're at the top of the succession. There's no one else fit to lead Pelgaroin."
"There's Maldon."
"That pig?"
Calling her own brother a pig. Fred couldn't help a wry chuckle.
"Yeah, that pig's my little brother too. Got a problem with that?"
"How can you even say that...? Maldon's no vessel for leading the house. Rolling around with slaves all day, embarrassing himself in front of the servants—how could he lead? He thinks his womanizing is some kind of talent. He's a lecher."
"Mm. Definitely not head material. Then your sister... no, you could do it."
At his teasing tone, Esilly's face flushed crimson.
"D-don't even joke about that! How could a woman like me lead the house?"
"It's possible. You're the only one among us who truly cares about the family."
"Impossible. The retainers would riot over breaking tradition. Even without that—"
"Sharp, but still so young."
Interrupting, Fred gravely stroked his chin. Esilly watched for a moment before puffing her cheeks in annoyance.
"...Stop imitating Father."
"Haha. Sorry. But I wanted to say it's not entirely impossible. The retainers care more about the house's survival than its traditions. That's how they get their cut."
"What does that even mean?"
"You'll find out someday. That's why I'm telling you—hold tight to Theorad. I didn't approve your marriage just because the guy's a soft-hearted pushover."
Esilly blinked blankly, still not getting it. Fred leaned forward, tapping the table.
"Background. The Deharm viscountcy's reputation will hand you immense power. Once you have the territory's support outweighing the retainers' influence, Pelgaroin County will be yours."
His insinuating, sticky tone made Esilly frown.
"That's not why I got engaged to Theorad. I did it because I truly love... no, like him. Don't think I'm some gold-digger."
"Touchy. Can't you treat your loving brother giving advice a little better?"
"Hah. Fine. Talking more would just hurt my mouth, so I'm going."
"Good call. Your outfit says you need me to make myself scarce."
"What about it!"
Esilly bristled, but Fred chuckled and rose from his seat. The dress clinging sensually to her curves, the expensive jewelry she usually deemed too much—all screamed she'd dolled up for Theorad.
She'd thought they'd had a huge fight at the mansion a few days ago, but it must've been her imagination.
No way a bond that close crumbles overnight.
Her romance seemed on track, no need to worry. Waving as if to wish her luck for the day, Fred left the room. Alone, Esilly fiddled sullenly with her teacup.
"Oppa knows nothing..."
A needless flush brought out the mutter. This was just to maintain dignity at the ball—not to impress Theorad.
At least, not that "bad Theorad" she'd seen at the mansion days ago.
Knock knock—
As she swallowed her unease, a knock sounded.
"Come in."
At Esilly's permission, the door opened, revealing a young servant with a boyish face.
"N-noble Lady E-Esilly...!"
His overly formal address and stiff bow were pitiful in their excess. Likely one of the hires from a couple weeks back—Esilly found such rigid etiquette uncomfortable.
"I'm no noble, so no need for 'noble.' Just call me miss, Pariel."
Pariel's eyes widened round.
"H-how does the lady—er, miss—know my name...?"
"It's only natural to memorize the faces and names of the household staff you'll live with. More importantly, what brings you here? Deliver the message."
"Ah, yes. Viscount Theorad Deharm just arrived at the annex, so I came to inform you."
Theorad already? Esilly's expression hardened as she nodded.
"Thank you. I'll head down shortly, so Pariel, tend to the guests."
"Yes, miss!"
Pariel shut the door with vigorous energy.
He must have brought that elf slave too. In that case...
Staring at the spot Pariel had vacated, Esilly rose and rummaged through a nearby drawer.
A way to uncover Theorad's true feelings had suddenly come to mind.
Among our forebears' teachings is this passage: To choose one thing, you must forsake another. Thus, I made my bold decision. Even if my life hangs in the balance, I cannot hide my true feelings for Esilly. I don't know if this is the right choice, but it won't be one I regret.
Clunk—
The carriage jolted once and came to a slow halt. After a brief wait, the coachman opened the door.
"Your Regency. We've arrived."
"Thank you."
I nodded lightly in thanks and stepped down, taking a few paces forward.
A man in a impeccably tailored tailcoat hurried toward me—a Pelgaroin servant assisting with the annex party, by the look of him.
He approached, bowing elegantly.
"Your Regency. You've arrived."
"Yes. I worried I might be too early."
"No need for concern. Many guests are already gathered in the annex hall. We informed Lady Esilly the moment your carriage passed the main gate, so she'll be down shortly."
"My thanks for your tireless efforts amid such busyness."
"Not at all. Just doing my duty. If you have luggage, hand it to me. I'll guide you to the annex."
I'd brought an extra coat, but nothing burdensome.
"No need. I can manage this much myself. It's not far to the annex—I'd hate to trouble you."
"Ah, as rumored, so considerate. Then, if I may be so bold, I'll accompany you as company. Ask anything you're curious about the annex."
"Very well. Lead on."
As I started walking, the servant fell in beside me. Crickets chirped softly along the path.
This is freedom.
Today, at least, I could escape the elf and enjoy myself. A tune nearly escaped my lips unbidden, but the servant eyed me suspiciously.
"By the way, Your Regency."
"Hm? Speak."
"Might I ask why you sent the slave ahead first?"
"Slave? Seems you've misunderstood. I've never sent a slave to the annex. There's no reason my slave would be at the...
...annex.
"Urk."
In my shock, I bit my tongue and clamped my mouth shut.
For there, at the annex entrance, was the elf—apron stained with tea and dirt—staring at me with icy eyes...