Scarlet Lament (3)
Ser-Aria and Ophelia locked eyes. Just as expected, Ser-Aria had brought up something interesting. Ophelia, however, was not the sort to leap at every intrigue.
Agreeing to anything simply because it piqued her curiosity would have run counter to her principles. So she answered a touch differently from what she truly felt.
“You’re asking me to dig into one of my own clients’ private affairs…”
Ophelia arranged her face into a look of mild difficulty.
“That’s rather awkward.”
“…So you’re saying no?”
“No matter how valued a client you are, Lady Ser-Aria, Lord Albrecht is every bit as valued.”
Ophelia continued evenly.
“Using one client’s request to secretly investigate another… doesn’t sit right with me.”
“….”
“It would mean betraying a client’s trust, wouldn’t it?”
Ser-Aria watched her with open dissatisfaction, then let out a sigh. She muttered as if she had no choice.
“Yeah, I know your type. Merchant down to the bone.”
“Hmm.”
“And I know the only way to move a merchant like you is to put something tempting on the table.”
Ser-Aria drew something from her robes and set it on Ophelia’s desk. Ophelia’s eyes widened a fraction. She kept her expression carefully blank, yet her eyelids twitched for an instant.
“You recognize it, don’t you? Someone who runs a major trading house like yours must have heard of it at least once.”
“…Haha. How could I not? Though this is the first time I’ve seen one with my own eyes.”
What Ser-Aria had produced was a single small leaf. At a glance it looked like nothing special, yet it was no ordinary leaf.
“A Leaf of the World Tree.”
It was a leaf from the sacred tree worshipped by the High Elves—the most revered among all elves. Even Ophelia, who had handled countless rarities as the head of a great merchant house, could not help being startled.
Because the World Tree was sacred to the High Elves, only they could ever obtain its leaves. “Obtain” was almost the wrong word; the High Elves never tore them free. They simply gathered the leaves that fell naturally.
Fallen from a holy tree, the leaves were never traded outside their people. They were given only as tokens of trust or gratitude.
Had it been an ordinary leaf, its symbolic value alone would never have been enough to sway a merchant like Ophelia.
I never thought she’d actually put one on the table…
But a Leaf of the World Tree was priceless even without the symbolism. It was the raw material for a panacea.
The leaf could cure any illness; it was the very reason High Elves lived for thousands of years. Free of disease, and already aging far more slowly than other races, they simply endured the centuries.
There had once been a great conflict between humans and elves over the leaf’s power, but the elves’ overwhelming strength at the time forced humanity to abandon the fight quickly.
So the only way to obtain a Leaf of the World Tree now was to receive it as a gift from a High Elf.
“As expected of a High Elf princess. You’re in a position to offer something like this as if it were nothing.”
“…I didn’t offer it as if it were nothing.”
Ophelia smiled, clearly satisfied.
Like the Dragon Jade that had gone to auction earlier—no, even more so—this was an item whose price was whatever the seller named. Unlike the Dragon Jade, which functioned only as a magical artifact, a Leaf of the World Tree could save a person dying of illness.
Especially if she sold it to the king of the Shah Zar Kingdom, who was said to be ailing of late; the sum would be astronomical.
“You’re curious enough about that man’s information to place this in front of me?”
“…Yes.”
“I didn’t expect you still had lingering feelings. The parting seemed rather amicable at the time.”
“Hey.”
Ser-Aria’s voice turned sharp.
“I didn’t bring this up so you could evaluate it.”
The warning made Ophelia realize her slip. She did not usually make such mistakes, but the thought of securing a Leaf of the World Tree had left her a little giddy.
“…I overstepped. My apologies.”
“So you’ll take the job?”
“Of course. A client’s trust is important—I wouldn’t trade it even for my life—but…”
Ophelia accepted the leaf Ser-Aria held out.
“This is more important than my life.”
“…You really are a merchant down to the marrow.”
Ser-Aria eyed her with open distaste.
“Don’t tell anyone else. Report only to me.”
“How would you like the information delivered?”
“I’m heading to the Elven Forest from here. I’ll leave a contact network outside; send it there.”
At the mention of the Elven Forest, Ophelia asked carefully,
“Have you left the party, by any chance?”
“Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m just moving separately for a while.”
“Then why not tell the others…?”
“Are you always this nosy?”
Ophelia closed her mouth and smiled lightly. She understood perfectly that Ser-Aria had no intention of explaining further; pressing would yield nothing.
“Understood. The moment our house learns anything of Lord Albrecht’s movements, we will inform you at once.”
“…Good.”
Ser-Aria added,
“I’ve said my piece. Make sure none of the other party members hear of it.”
“Of course. Absolute secrecy.”
Ser-Aria exhaled softly, took another pull from her bottle, and walked out. Watching her retreating back, Ophelia let a smile full of interest curve her lips.
“That man… there’s something about him.”
“…Guildmaster, I’ve told you not to dig too deep.”
“I know, Brad.”
Ophelia said,
“But what am I supposed to do when the stories come rolling in on their own?”
“Haa… I wash my hands of whatever happens.”
“Fine, I’ll handle it myself. So…”
As head of Aurum Aquila, Ophelia issued her order to her secretary, Bradley.
“From now on, gather every scrap of information on Lord Albrecht’s movements and report it to the princess.”
“…Understood.”
“…Did you sleep well?”
“…Yeah.”
After what had happened the night before, Clara and I were stuck in an extremely awkward atmosphere. I hadn’t wanted things to turn out this way, but the realization that had hit me yesterday was simply too much.
I should’ve just lived separately from the start.
Looking back, it would have been smarter to go to Aurum Aquila first, withdraw some money, and rent two places. Then none of these misunderstandings would have happened.
“Uh… want some breakfast?”
“…Yeah.”
Clara still seemed embarrassed; she answered only with short words and small gestures. There was something oddly cute about it, which only made me wish she would just answer normally.
…This won’t do.
If I acted normally, the awkwardness would fade and the mood would loosen. If I stayed like this too, Clara’s personality might keep the tension going forever.
“Ahem!”
“…?”
I cleared my throat lightly to ease the tightness in my neck and spoke the way I always did.
“Then could you go wake Caesius?”
“…Ah, okay.”
Clara hurried back to the room with quick little steps.
Just as I’d told her, I started washing and chopping ingredients for breakfast. Today’s meal would be simple fried rice.
Chop, chop, chop.
Once Clara was out of the kitchen, the stifling feeling in my chest seemed to ease a little.
Why didn’t I realize it could look that way?
I’d been reluctant about a man and woman sharing a house in the first place, but I never imagined it would spark that kind of misunderstanding.
As long as I kept living with Clara and Caesius, these misunderstandings would keep cropping up, and I’d have to clear them every time.
Just thinking about it was exhausting. Maybe I should try not to be seen walking around with them outside… that thought crossed my mind too.
But living together already made it impossible to hide completely, and acting that way might actually hurt Clara. She had so little confidence; if she saw me deliberately avoiding her… the result was obvious.
Yeah, that would be bad. So what was I supposed to do…?
“Hwaaam… what’s for breakfast today… Albrecht?”
“Hm?”
Why was that one suddenly calling me by name?
“…Albrecht?!”
Clara, who had come out a moment later, also widened her eyes and called my name in a frantic voice. I looked up, wondering what was wrong, only for Caesius to speak as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
“Albrecht, do you think your finger is a carrot?”
“?”
Oh.
At some point the knife had sliced past the carrot and into the flesh of my finger. By the time I noticed, blood was already pooling on the cutting board, and the sharp pain arrived with it.
“Ah—aaagh!!”
“…A-Albrecht!”
“What on earth were you thinking to space out that badly…?”
And so the morning descended into chaos. Caesius stopped the bleeding with magic, then Clara brought the first-aid kit and bandages and treated me.
While carefully applying salve and wrapping the bandage, Clara said quietly,
“…Be careful…”
“Sorry…”
You really shouldn’t zone out while using a knife, but my head had been too full of thoughts…
“…Is it because of me?”
“Hm?”
“…If what you heard yesterday is making things hard… I’ll go live somewhere else.”
Clara spoke.
“…If I take a few commissions, I can get a place soon enough.”
“No! Why would you do that?!”
The words burst out before I could think. Clara’s eyes went round.
“…I was the one who insisted… on living together… that’s why people said those things.”
“No… it’s not just your fault. And Clara, even if you leave, Caesius is still here. They’d just say the same thing again.”
Unless I left both of them here and moved somewhere else myself.
“Humans are insignificant creatures who love to jump to conclusions and spout nonsense. It can’t be helped.”
Caesius’s words were a bit arrogant, but not entirely wrong, so I didn’t argue. She was speaking up against Clara moving out, after all.
“So you don’t need to leave. We rented a big place specifically so the three of us could live here. It’d be weird if someone moved out after one day.”
“…Is it really okay?”
Clara asked me.
“…Can we still live together?”
She looked up at me with an utterly innocent expression.
“….”
Did Clara have any idea how those words sounded coming from a girl to a man?
…Of course she doesn’t.
So I shouldn’t read anything extra into them either. I had to take them at face value.
“Yeah, we should live together. That’s why we got this place, right?”
Hearing my answer, Clara smiled faintly. She nodded and said,
“…Okay.”
Once the bandage was finished, I stood up. I still had cooking to finish.
“I’ll have it ready soon. Just wait a bit.”
“…With that hand?”
My finger hurt, but it wasn’t unusable.
“Well, it’s not like I can’t use my hand.”
“…I’ll do it.”
“Hm?”
Clara said,
“…I’ll take over this time.”
“You sure?”
“…Yeah.”
She stepped close in an instant and snatched the knife from me. I didn’t even have time to react.
“…Albrecht, you rest.”
“Do you know what I was making?”
“…Fried rice, right?”
She knew.
Come to think of it, Clara had lived alone before joining the party. She might actually be decent at cooking.
I was looking forward to it a little.
“Clara, if you fail to make it as delicious as Albrecht’s, this body may grow angry.”
“If you’re not going to help, stay quiet, Caesius.”
“…I did stop your bleeding, you know.”
Ah, right.
“…I’ll do my best.”
Clara answered Caesius that way, then tied on an apron. Listening to the rhythmic chop-chop-chop of the knife on the board, I could already tell she was better than expected.
Well, she fought with daggers, so of course her knife work would be solid. The real test would be the actual cooking.
Fried rice was a simple dish, yet surprisingly hard for someone who’d never cooked. Balancing the look and the seasoning was tricky.
If you overdid the soy sauce because the flavor was off, the whole thing turned an unappetizing dark color. And this world didn’t have the cheat ingredient of stir-fry cooking—oyster sauce…
So she has to season with just salt, pepper, and soy sauce.
Why they had soy sauce but no oyster sauce, I had no idea. It was a game world; they could have thrown in East and West seasonings without caring about historical periods and no one would have complained.
Anyway, nailing both appearance and taste could be tough for a beginner. How would Clara’s fried rice turn out?
Before long, Caesius and I were staring at the finished dish and swallowing hard. Every grain of rice was coated in a golden sheen that looked delicious.
She had coated the rice with egg yolk. I never expected her to know the recipe for so-called golden fried rice.
“This… looks rather exquisite.”
I agreed completely. Caesius and I each scooped up a spoonful and tasted it. I couldn’t help the exclamation that followed.
“Clara, you’re really good at cooking!”
“…N-no. Fried rice is simple, so… I’m not that good…”
“Come on, this is more than good enough.”
The fried rice was excellent. The seasoning was perfect, and the grains were fluffy and well-toasted.
From now on we could take turns cooking.
“…Is it really tasty?”
“Yeah, it’s really good. Right?”
At my question, Caesius—who had already buried her face in her bowl—nodded vigorously.
“Munch munch… I acknowledge it. Clara, you are the second cook to satisfy this body’s palate.”
She mixed in her usual nonsense, but even Caesius was recognizing Clara’s skill. Only then did Clara seem to relax; she sat down and joined us for the meal.
“Thanks, that was delicious.”
“Mm, excellent.”
“…I’m glad you liked it.”
Clara smiled softly.
“…If you want, I can cook more often from now on.”
“I’d be grateful if you did.”
“This body is always ready to eat.”
At Caesius’s reply, Clara and I met each other’s eyes and then both laughed lightly. The awkwardness left over from yesterday had vanished without us noticing, and the familiar, easy atmosphere had returned.
Thank goodness.
In more ways than one.
The awkward mood that had felt like it might last forever had melted away far sooner than I expected.
And… living with the two of them was turning out to be more enjoyable than I’d thought.