A Date?! (2)
Elena Astoria.
As the daughter of a marquis house, she had grown up from childhood basking in the attention of countless people.
Looks, money, pedigree—she had it all. Even her magical talent was exceptional. Born with every conceivable gift and lacking nothing, she had always been able to obtain whatever she desired with ease.
A bright, sweet smile was all it took; no one ever refused her requests. No—there had never been any need to ask in the first place. Even without a word from her, everyone simply helped her and looked after her of their own accord.
It was no different after she entered the Academy. Everyone loved her, and everyone admired her.
Everyone, that is, except for one person: Rohan Blackwood, the illegitimate son of some obscure viscount family no one had ever heard of.
She first met him during magic sparring class. At the time, Elena—who had been trading the top and second ranks within the department—was matched against Rohan Blackwood. Looking into those dry, emotionless eyes fixed upon her, Elena felt something she could not name.
It was only natural. Never once in her life had she encountered someone who gazed at her with such complete indifference. His stare was unfamiliar and unpleasant, yet it stirred something strange in her heart.
But that was as far as it went. Once she won the spar, this man would come to admire her just like everyone else.
Elena moved to subdue Rohan with her usual leisurely confidence.
The result, however…
"Winner! Rohan Blackwood!"
Before long, the instructor's voice rang through the sparring hall, announcing her defeat. It had been an overwhelming loss. Everything had happened in the blink of an eye. She could not even tell why she had lost, or what magic Rohan had used. He had merely flicked his fingers a few times with a look of utter boredom.
In an instant, every spell Elena cast melted away like snow, and when she came back to herself she was sitting on the floor of the sparring hall.
"All flash, no substance."
What on earth had just happened? As Elena stared blankly into space, Rohan clicked his tongue at her, then yawned ostentatiously and strolled out of the hall.
An overwhelming gap in skill. Shame and humiliation she had never once felt before. Stubbornness took root, and from that day on she began to dog Rohan's every step.
"What magic did you use back then?"
"What do you mean, 'all flash, no substance'?"
"Rohan, let's settle who's better on the midterms!"
But every time, Rohan refused even to answer and simply avoided her. Like a man who had already seen everything the world had to offer, he would glance at her with pure annoyance and then—whoosh—vanish somewhere. And at some point, he disappeared from the Academy altogether.
What was worse, he left the moment Elena realized—without quite knowing when it had happened—that she had come to like him. He vanished as if he had never existed at all.
And now that the war was over, in this chaotic period when the Treasury found itself in dire straits, he had reappeared like a miracle. His abilities had already been proven. She absolutely could not let him slip away—not for the Empire's sake, and not for the sake of a woman who had never once failed to claim what she wanted. By any means necessary, she had to keep him.
"Want to marry me?"
"Pffft!"
At Elena's question—hurled at me out of absolutely nowhere—I spat out the drink I'd been sipping. So this was the legendary confession assault I'd only ever heard about? As expected of Elena. No ordinary woman.
"Why? Don't want to?"
"Are you kidding me?"
"Does it look like a joke?"
"This is insane."
When I sucked in a breath of pure disbelief, Elena pouted as if she'd been wounded. Not that I cared. I clutched my throbbing forehead and lifted my glass again.
"Is there someone you're seeing?"
"No."
"Huh? Then why?"
"Is that even a serious question right now?"
"You've been talking down to me this whole time."
"Quitting time already passed, didn't it?"
"Wow. Is that what they taught you at the Intelligence Bureau?"
"Then send me back to the Intelligence Bureau."
"That is never happening. Don't even dream of it."
Elena knocked back drink after drink, her face flushed scarlet. If she got properly drunk like that, who exactly was supposed to clean up the mess?
"Haa! By the way, Rohan—do you remember when we first met?"
"......"
"Hmm. What magic did you use back then? You can tell me now."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Come on, why are you like that? We're comrades in the same boat now."
"Who is? You? With me?"
"Hing…"
Hing, my ass.
She was drunk. If she was going to talk nonsense, she could at least go home already, you slave-driving minister. Or give me tomorrow off.
"Do you hate working with me that much?"
When I stayed stubbornly blunt the entire time, Elena spoke again with tears welling in her eyes. A confession assault followed by a tear assault. If I made her cry here, every single person in the bar would treat me like garbage. She was a terrifying woman.
In the end I set my glass down with a sigh and opened my mouth calmly.
"There are plenty of skilled people in the Intelligence Bureau besides me. Meaning there are any number of people who could do this job in my place."
"So you don't want to work with me."
"It's not that kind of problem."
"Phew. That's a relief…"
"What?"
"Ah—nothing."
When I tilted my head at Elena's mumbled aside, she waved her hands frantically and nearly jumped out of her seat.
"About that Barton guy—was there anything suspicious?"
Still clearly flustered, she hurriedly changed the subject and asked about the incident from a few days ago.
"There was."
"Then why didn't you dig deeper?"
"The job I was given was to collect the delinquent inheritance tax from him. Nothing more, nothing less."
"It wasn't that you didn't want to make enemies?"
"I can't say it wasn't. But the reason I just gave was the main one."
"Wow. Aren't you being a little too inflexible?"
"Then would you accept my resignation? Inflexible me would like to rest a bit now."
"Hmph! Bring a hundred of them, a thousand—see if I accept a single one."
"This is insane."
I'd known it since the Academy days, but Elena's stubbornness made an ox look reasonable.
Well. I shouldn't hope for things I can't have.
Truth be told, I'd brought a resignation letter just in case, but today clearly was not the day. It wasn't as if she were Pavlov's dog—so why did she react so violently to the mere word resignation? Could she still be holding a grudge over the public humiliation I'd given her at the Academy and doing this on purpose?
Oh, for heaven's sake. I should have realized it the moment she was waiting outside the office. She was an actual stalker.
Goosebumps raced down my entire body. Another reason to resign as soon as humanly possible had just been born.
"I wasn't going to talk about work today, but since you keep acting like that, I have no choice!"
Whether she sensed my thoughts or not, Elena—now thoroughly sulking—pulled a document from her coat and thrust it at me.
"Didn't I just say quitting time is long past?"
"You're a 1st Grade Management Officer! And I'm the Minister! When the Minister says jump, you jump! You're mine!"
"You're drunk."
"I'm not dwunk!"
Shit. Elena's tongue had started to slur. Not only that—her rising volume was drawing every eye in the place toward us.
"If you don't wanna do thiiis! Marry meee! That's an ordeeer!"
Ahh. I should have known from the moment she started pouring hard whiskey straight down her throat. I wanted to run. I wanted to go home. I wanted to resign!
I considered bolting from my seat, but if I did, I had the distinct feeling she would level the entire bar just to catch me. Deciding there was truly no other way, I hurriedly took the document she was waving at me.
The poll tax—a head tax levied at the same flat rate on every individual regardless of property or income. Put simply, a family of five had to pay for five people. A truly goddamn tax. Literally a tax you owed just for breathing; you could call it the chief culprit behind the shattered reputation of tax collectors everywhere.
And now they wanted non-humans to pay a poll tax that even humans despised. As if those people would cheerfully hand it over.
"If you liiive! On Empiah laaand! Even a dwagon has to pay taaaxes!"
"If you can say that exact same thing in front of a dragon, I'll marry you however you like."
"Wooow! Really?! Heheh! Dragon! Where's the dragon!"
"Haa…"
Leaving Elena behind as she progressed to full bottle-trumpet mode, I examined the document more carefully. And before long I found in it an opportunity for resignation that was similar to the Barton affair, yet entirely different.
Yes. With this, even Elena won't be able to stop me.
Issues involving the non-human races were extremely delicate. They lived on Imperial soil while preserving their own cultures. Sometimes cooperative, sometimes not, they had always been a headache from the Imperial family's point of view. So if I went and raised hell demanding they pay taxes?
They would explode like a time bomb. Ah. There was no wriggling out of this one. For real.
"Mawwiage! Let's get mawwieeed!"
And so I hoisted the thoroughly plastered Elena onto my back, left the bar, and allowed myself a small smirk. The meaningful looks the surrounding patrons were giving me were probably just my imagination.
Eh. Whatever. Once I quit the job I was leaving the capital anyway—so who cared?