Gloomy Black-Haired Busty Girl (5)
I brought Idwild down to the inn with me. Since she wasn't even wearing shoes, I had no choice but to seat her right in front of me on the saddle. She kept trying to press her back flush against my chest. Idwild wasn't exactly light thanks to her... physical attributes, so the horse really struggled under the extra weight. With her up front and me gripping the reins, her breasts draped right over my forearms—it was a real workout just holding them steady. Too damn heavy... I wondered how her waist and shoulders even managed with a pair like that.
By the time we reached the inn, Idwild's face lit up with astonishment. Strands of her black hair fell across her eyes as those dark pupils scanned the building eagerly.
"Where... is this place...?"
"My inn."
"Bertrand's inn?"
Idwild twisted at the waist to look back at me, and the horse let out an irritated snort. It was already beat from hauling her bulk—any extra wiggling was just asking for trouble.
"Hey. Get off quick. The horse is pissed."
I stabled the horse, gave it some feed and water, and soothed it properly. On my way back, I realized Kali was nowhere in sight. This guy usually bolts out like a shot the second he hears me coming, even in his sleep... I checked his doghouse at the base of the stairs—he was huddled inside, shivering like a leaf.
"Kali. What's up? I'm back."
I dragged him out by force, and he put up a fuss at first, refusing to budge. But eventually, he leaped straight into my arms. I carried him over to Idwild.
"A doggy...?"
Idwild reached out a hand, but Kali twisted wildly in my hold, wriggling free before hopping down and bolting back to his doghouse like his tail was on fire.
"Do I... smell bad...?"
Idwild lifted the hem of her robe to her nose and sniffed.
"Nah, it's 'cause you're a shady, creepy black mage. Dogs are sensitive like that."
"I guess... No one ever welcomes me anywhere..."
"Quit moping and get inside."
I shoved Idwild's back, ushering her into the inn. As soon as we entered the hall, she let out a soft gasp, staring up at the high, vaulted ceiling of the two-story space.
"This is Bertrand's inn...? It's... amazing..."
She gawked around like a kid in a candy shop until her eyes landed on the troll skull.
"A troll? Why's that here...?"
"Dunno. It was already here when I bought the place. That's why we call it the Crossroads Troll."
"I see... Bertrand, an innkeeper..."
Idwild turned to me with a look of fresh surprise.
"That ruthless, merciless hero..."
"Ruthless only to bad guys like you."
"Bad guy..."
Idwild's gaze dropped, her expression turning sullen.
"Sit here. I'll fix you some food."
"Can I... light the fireplace...?"
"Do whatever."
Idwild flicked her finger, and flames roared to life in the hearth's logs. Magic really was handy. Would've been nice if I could use it myself—or at least keep a mage on staff. Skilled ones could handle all sorts of chores effortlessly. But they cost a fortune, and good ones were rare as hen's teeth. I could probably lowball Idwild, sure... but a black mage? Something about that just didn't sit right.
Black mages were born with bodies attuned to black magic power. That stuff had a natural knack for withering the living—anyone normal who tried to wield it would get devoured by the power itself and die. It was the same principle behind her cursed Sansa amulets, those shrunken heads that eventually killed their owners.
"So warm... nice..."
Watching Idwild squat by the fire, hugging her knees and warming her palms, I felt a twinge of pity. She probably didn't choose to be born a black mage. I hadn't pried, but her parents had likely died young from black magic backlash. She'd spent her life alone, no family or friends—just her and the gloom, shrinking human heads into talismans in some dingy workshop, boiling monster bones in a cauldron.
I headed to the kitchen, whipped up dinner from leftovers, then made something simple with the scraps. A few boiled potatoes got mashed with flour and egg into a dough. I parboiled bits of it, sliced them thumb-sized, cooled them off, diced some veggies, and stir-fried them in the pan. Added milk, cheese, pepper for seasoning, tossed in the potato dough, and simmered. Done. Nyokki—perfect hot comfort food for a cold night. The thick, golden broth with perfectly soaked potato dumplings looked mouthwatering.
"Eat up."
"Whoa... Bertrand cooked... for me..."
Idwild licked her dry lips, spoon in hand, flashing a gloomy little smile. Who knew a human could grin like that, all gray and shadowed?
"Itadakimasu..."
She scooped up a big spoonful of broth and dumpling, chewed slowly... and set the spoon down without a word.
Huh? Not good? No way...
"What? Doesn't taste right...?"
"No... it's delicious..."
To my shock, tears were streaming down Idwild's face.
"So... delicious... that's why the tears..."
"Come on... no need to cry over good food."
"Sniff... It's been... so long since I had warm food..."
Idwild sobbed quietly, shoulders shaking as she clamped a hand over her mouth. A barefoot black mage in rags, crying over hot nyokki. What a rare sight.
"Eat plenty. Want something to drink? Booze...?"
"No... can't handle alcohol..."
"Got it. Milk it is."
I brought her a pewter mug of milk, which she gulped down eagerly.
"Hic-sob..."
Even crying, she licked the milk from her lips with that tongue—freakishly long, creepy as hell. Salting the nyokki with her tears, she shoveled it in mouthful after mouthful. Gloomy, crybaby, pitiful... killer... one hell of a weird woman.
As I watched this sorry spectacle of a black mage eating, the inn door swung open and Hildeva walked in.
"Whew... wiped out. My feet are killing me."
Hildeva kicked off her low-heeled slippers and padded barefoot into the hall, spotting me and Idwild.
"Mr. Bertrand? Still up?"
"You're late. What kept you?"
"Busy day... And you said you were off to meet someone."
Hildeva eyed Idwild, who was peeking at us around half a spoon.
"Is she the one?"
"Yeah. Uh... old friend. Lives nearby, so I invited her."
"Ah, hi! I'm Hildeva. Rosens city administrator."
Hildeva approached the table with a bright smile, and Idwild shrank back like she'd been scorched by holy light. No wonder—next to Idwild's dank gloom, Hildeva shone like warm spring sunshine.
"Uh... I'm... Idwild..."
"Nice to meet you, Idwild."
"Y-Yes... same..."
Sensing Idwild's shyness and timidity in an instant, Hildeva didn't press her further. Instead, she turned to me.
"You promised late-night snacks. Where are they?"
"Sit. I'll get 'em."
I grabbed the boiled potatoes Della had covered on the bar and headed to the kitchen. Tossed them in the still-hot pan from the nyokki, rolled them crisp, sliced a fat pat of butter, and plated it up.
"Slather butter on the potatoes."
"Hehe. Looks yummy."
Hildeva scooped a dollop onto the steaming spud. It bubbled and melted into the skin.
"Eee!"
She took a bite and squealed in delight.
"Eat more. It's fine."
"Mmm..."
Utterly dazzled by Hildeva's radiance, Idwild poked at her food slowly. Hildeva, ever considerate, focused on her buttered potatoes without chattering. So I leisurely took in the contrast: the dour busty black mage and the sparkling, smooth-skinned administrator.
After eating, Hildeva padded barefoot to the kitchen with her plate and Idwild's, milk mug in hand, dropping them in the sink.
"Why barefoot? Floor's cold."
"Don't fit right. Bought 'em today, first time wearing... Oh, right."
Hildeva turned to me like she'd remembered something important.
"Idwild was barefoot too. Why? Her feet looked filthy, like she'd been walking outside."
"No shoes. Old ones burst, no money for new."
"No money...? For shoes? And?"
"And what? That's it."
"She's your friend?"
Hildeva stared at me blankly, then held out her own shoes.
"If they fit, tell her to wear these for now."
"These are yours."
"You gonna let her go barefoot?"
"Fine."
I took the glossy, high-end leather slippers. Back at the table, Hildeva said to Idwild,
"I'll head up then. Night, Idwild."
She flashed a charming eye-smile.
"Ah... Night, Hildeva..."
Once Hildeva climbed the stairs, Idwild finally let out a long, shaky sigh.
"Whoa... she's gorgeous... so bubbly..."
"Why so deflated? She's not some holy-powered saintess."
"Just... she's so bright, it makes me feel even more pathetic..."
"Sigh."
I handed her Hildeva's shoes.
"Try 'em on. See if they fit."
"Wh-Why give these to me...?"
"Just try."
Idwild hesitated, then slipped them on.
"Mm... perfect fit..."
"Then wear 'em."
"Ehh?! Me? I haven't done anything to deserve—"
"Just wear them."
And with that, Idwild started crying again. Bottomless tears, fat drops rolling down nonstop. I circled behind her, hooked my hands under her armpits, and hauled her up.
"And go wash up. I'll heat water for you. You were sweating buckets on the ride."
My forearms, crushed under her underboob the whole way, were soaked.
"Th-That was 'cause riding with you made me all jittery and tense..."
"Whatever. Go bathe and crash in bed. Sleep till morning."
"But... at least let me do the dishes..."
"Argh! Go! Now!"
I snapped and shoved her hard. She resisted to the end, so I grabbed her waist, hoisted her over my shoulder. Idwild kicked and flailed, demanding to be put down. I swung my hand and smacked her plump ass with a sharp crack.
"Behave!"