I Have Something to Confess. So Please Come to My House.
I Have Something to Confess. So Please Come to My House.
Michelle's face betrayed her the moment Gerard appeared.
—I heard a mermaid had been sighted in this territory.
The mermaid in question was obviously her.
How does he know? Did someone spot me coming ashore? Or has someone been tracking me?
From the moment Gerard announced he would investigate until he finally left, she had done everything in her power to avoid meeting his eyes.
That was when her gaze met Lucas's.
He silently asked if she was all right. She signaled she was fine and tried to laugh it off.
Tried to.
—So, Lucas, what do you think about mermaids?
The question slipped out before she could stop it.
Was it because she'd panicked at the sudden appearance of a human hunting for mermaids?
Or because Lucas's concern had put her at ease?
She'd asked without thinking—a test, to feel out his heart.
And all the while, a quiet dread: What if he finds mermaids repulsive?
—I'd be curious.
The answer was pure Lucas.
He said mermaids were no different from any other race. She couldn't have put into words how much that relieved her.
Michelle pressed a hand to her chest.
Maybe—just maybe—it really would be safe to tell this man who she was.
That she was, in truth, a mermaid and a princess of the Sea King. That she'd come back to his restaurant again and again because his cooking had utterly captivated her.
If she confessed, Lucas seemed like the sort who would help her.
But.
—Never. Trust. A human.
Abamama's words kept echoing in her head.
Do not trust a human.
They will betray us the moment it suits them. That warning kept tangling around her ankles, holding her back.
"Well, we've all finished eating, so let's clean up."
At Lucas's words, the rest of the staff rose in a clatter of movement.
She reached out and caught his sleeve in a hurry, just as he was about to stand.
"Um, excuse me. Lucas..."
"What is it?"
"There's something I'd like to tell you—in private. Would you be able to come to my residence after work today?"
Her father's words kept pulling at her.
They screamed that this was a foolish thing to do, that she must never tell him.
But...
I trust my own eyes.
Lucas wasn't the kind of person who used people.
And besides.
I was going to have to tell him eventually.
If she was ever going to bring Lucas to the Dragon Palace, she had to reveal her identity.
That she was a mermaid. That she had been born a princess of the palace beneath the sea.
That she wanted to recruit a chef as brilliant as him.
That she was ready to prepare everything so he could visit the Dragon Palace whenever he wished.
This was just a little sooner than she'd planned.
"My residence?"
He looked taken aback.
She understood.
It was sudden.
And maybe even a little improper.
It's selfish of me. But I want to tell him.
And she wanted his help.
"Please."
"...Alright."
Michelle met Lucas's eyes—clear, bright, and steady.
There was a depth in them that put whoever they looked upon at ease.
She had always thought those eyes were especially beautiful.
***
—I'd really prefer you to come alone.
Michelle had said that as she sketched directions to her house.
Ever since the man called Gerard had arrived, she'd been restless, on edge. She kept making small, anxious noises, like a puppy that had lost its meal.
And when she handed me the map and asked me to please come alone, there was a raw earnestness in her expression.
Something's definitely going on.
I didn't know what had driven her to summon me, but it was obvious she'd agonized over it before working up the nerve to speak.
I've never gone to a customer's house before.
Come to think of it, no customer had ever invited me to their home, period.
At the shops where I'd worked in my past life, the customer and the chef almost never had reason to meet face-to-face.
And since I came to this world, nearly everyone I've dealt with has been nobility. Invitations were rare.
Who in their right mind would dare invite the imperial princess's personal cook-knight to their manor?
So Michelle's invitation was unfamiliar territory.
Doesn't mean I can turn her down, though.
Her request had carried an oddly urgent edge. I'd agreed to come.
And now, here I was.
"Closer than I thought."
I'd followed Michelle's hand-drawn map and arrived at her residence.
Closer than I'd expected. And bigger than I'd expected, too.
"She's definitely no ordinary person, that much is clear..."
At first, I'd wondered if she was some minor noble dispatched by Princess Diana.
Once I realized that was a misunderstanding, I'd guessed she might be local gentry.
Then I saw her casually hand over a precious gemstone—the kind said to be found only in the deep sea—as if it were pocket change, and I started wondering if she was a foreign princess. But this peaceful southern territory sat nowhere near any borders.
Michelle. She'd shown up at the restaurant nearly every day.
I remembered thinking her grasp of money seemed a little fuzzy.
Still, no matter how I thought about it, no noble with that kind of wealth belonged in a southern backwater like this.
I'm curious, damn it.
She was no commoner.
And yet she wasn't central nobility, either.
Which left one possibility.
Could she be a dragon? Or some other non-human race?
That thought was still running through my head as I approached the manor.
"Thank you for accepting my invitation."
The moment I neared the entrance, Michelle stepped out to greet me, dressed in a magnificent gown. She'd clearly known I was coming.
"You had an urgent look about you. I couldn't just let it go."
"You really are every bit as kind as I thought, Lucas."
She smiled gently and gestured for me to follow her inside.
"This is a villa I had built for myself. It's modest in scale, but it has everything one needs."
Modest? This enormous villa?
I kept my incredulous admiration to myself as I glanced around.
The place was spotless—not a speck of dust anywhere. The marble construction gleamed a brilliant white.
Michelle, walking beside me, spoke up.
"Lucas, did you know? Long ago, people across the continent believed that spotting a mermaid brought good fortune."
"And that if a mermaid shed tears of joy upon meeting you, a commoner could become a noble."
"You do know the stories."
"They're famous."
Mermaid tears were said to be priceless beyond measure.
Even in the ancient age when mermaids were said to have existed, a single tear was supposed to be enough to change a person's life.
A panacea.
I'd heard the tales: a mysterious treasure that could raise the lame to their feet and gift the blind with light.
A rueful smile crossed Michelle's face as she continued.
"In the old days, mermaids who were caught by humans were either enslaved or tortured in every conceivable way to make them weep."
"Tortured?"
"Yes. A mermaid's tear is... something like the essence of their life. It only falls at the moment of death, after the mermaid has suffered to the very end."
"That's not a version of the story I've ever heard."
"It's the part the fairy tales and legends leave out. A forgotten history. After all, mermaids are a race of legend now. Never to be seen again..."
She looked so unbearably sad.
Even more than when she'd first come to my shop and regarded me with open hostility.
We crossed the villa's garden and arrived at the lobby where she lived.
All the way until the moment we stopped in front of a first-floor door, Michelle told me story after story about mermaids.
It was so vivid, it felt as though I was hearing it from someone who'd lived it herself.
"The mermaids could never forgive the humans who betrayed them. So when human ships were swept away by the monsters of the deep, they did nothing to help."
With every legend she recounted, Michelle's expression grew darker.
We reached the door to her room. She fidgeted for a moment, then looked at me.
"This is my bedroom."
"I thought we'd be speaking in a drawing room."
"Due to... circumstances, I use the first floor as my bedchamber."
"Are you certain you're comfortable showing me such a private space? If this is confidential, we could have this conversation in a drawing room just as easily."
"It's— it's fine. I came into this fully prepared."
Michelle swallowed, then drew a deep breath.
"Before we go inside, I should say one thing."
"Go ahead."
"I'd really, really prefer it if you didn't, um, faint from shock. Or get... too badly shaken."
Whatever was making her this nervous, her hands wouldn't stop fidgeting.
"Haha. I've got a stronger stomach than people give me credit for. Don't worry."
"Th-then... I'll open it."
She flushed, looking almost embarrassed.
Showing me her bedroom on my very first visit.
Wasn't that a bit much?
The thought had just crossed my mind when—
"Huh?"
The thing that stole my gaze the instant I stepped into her bedchamber wasn't the glittering chandelier, nor the expensive paintings and jewels lining the walls.
It was the enormous water tank standing at the center of the room.
The thing was massive—practically an aquarium. It loomed with an almost imposing presence.
So that was why her bedroom was on the first floor.
Before I could get a word out, Michelle's body rose gently into the air.
Levitation magic.
And an extremely high-level version of it, at that.
Her floating body touched the surface of the water.
Blub.
Bubbles swirled up and wrapped around her.
The white legs that her dress had concealed shimmered, then merged into a single gleaming tail—a brilliant blue, just like the gown she'd worn the first time I saw her.
Her tail caught the light as it swayed, sending delicate ripples through the water and raising a fine layer of tiny bubbles around her.
Every movement utterly effortless.
The sight was so mesmerizing it practically wrung an awed breath out of me. I caught myself staring, transfixed.
I'd never seen anything like it.
"A mer...maid...?"
Everything clicked into place at once.
Why Michelle had kept asking me about mermaids.
Why the legends had rolled off her tongue so naturally.
Because Michelle herself was a mermaid.
A race that was supposed to exist only in stories.
And then I realized something else.
So that's who Sebastian was.
The giant olive flounder I'd caught and cooked.
The fish dish I'd served her.
Wait.
I had, in effect, forced her to eat her own pet.
No, really, it's delicious. Dog meat's incredible once you try it.
Go on. Just one bite. Go on.
And I'd done it to a fish she'd actually named.
So that's why she looked at me like she wanted to kill me from the very first meeting...
Well. This is awkward.
I had no idea how to address this.
I stared back at her as she swam in place, meeting my gaze through the water.
—Well? What do you think? Of how I look.
A voice spoke directly inside my head.
I flinched before I could stop myself.
Telepathy?
—It's not telepathy. I'm generating a wave to carry my voice to you.
"Ah—wait. How did you read my thought just now?"
—It was written all over your face. "Telepathy?"
Had it been that obvious?
Embarrassment crept in.
A brief silence settled between us.
"I'm sorry."
I bowed my head first.
—I'm sorry?
"Sebastian. The flatfish dish. The one I, ah, forced on you."
—Oh, that. It's alright now. I'm sure Sebastian understood. It was an accident. Neither of us knew.
Smiling, Michelle finished the thought.
—You really are an unusual kind of human, Lucas.
"I am?"
—Any other human would have been fawning over me by now. Or spewing flattery to win my favor.
"Because of the tears?"
—Yes.
The legendary panacea.
Some people even claimed it was an elixir of eternal youth and immortality.
"What would I even do with them?"
Still, it was a treasure I had no use for.
And if obtaining it meant inflicting horrific suffering on someone?
No thank you.
Even if every word of the legends turned out to be true.
"I don't need a treasure that would require me to torment you, Michelle."
—...If only all humans were like you, Lucas.
She let out a deep sigh.
The bubbles that rose around her in a soft, burbling stream were strangely fun to watch.
"You must have a reason for revealing yourself to me."
—Yes.
Michelle steeled herself and spoke.
—Please. Help me keep Gerard from finding the mermaid.
"Alright. I understand."