The Midnight Cuckoo (2)
I prepared simple snacks to pair with beer and mead. Rummaging through the ingredient storeroom, I finally pulled out a wheel of cheese. Pelle had preservation-treated everything except fermented foods so meticulously that cooking was impossible. Even raw-eatable stuff wouldn't digest properly in the gut... Planned inventory management was great and all, but as the inn owner, I couldn't even snag a bite for myself. It was like she'd slapped an invisible padlock on it.
I sliced the cheese, grabbed the drinks, and headed back to the hall alone. Hildeva and Celereja sat across from each other in an awkward atmosphere. More precisely, Celereja looked uncomfortable on her own, while Hildeva seemed utterly unfazed. Proof? Hildeva had her feet propped up on the bench, dozing off, while Celereja gnawed her nails and shot her sidelong glances.
As I approached the table, Celereja spotted me and scooted to the corner of the bench, making space. I'd planned to sit next to her anyway, since Hildeva's feet were hogging the spot beside her. Once I settled in, Celereja's expression finally relaxed into a faint, relieved smile. She then shot Hildeva a smug look.
But at that exact moment, Hildeva was mid-yawn from exhaustion and missed it entirely. I set glasses in front of each and poured.
"Here—mead for you, Administrator, and beer for the Saintess."
"Why do I get beer? I want mead too."
"Mead's got a brutal proof. A couple glasses and you'd be out cold, Saintess."
"Still wanna try. Gimme some."
"Fine. Chug it quick and pass out, then. I'll toss you upstairs and drink alone with the Administrator."
"Beer it is."
Hildeva, who'd been watching Celereja's flip-flopping with amusement, smirked as if she'd caught on. She didn't say a word, but it was clear she'd pieced it all together. Scary how sharp and quick she was.
We clinked glasses lightly and sipped. Hildeva downed her mead like someone who'd wandered the desert for weeks, emptying the glass in one go. I knew it, but damn, what a drinker. Celereja, by contrast, took tiny sips of her beer before setting it down. Probably trying not to get tipsy.
As I reached to refill Hildeva's empty glass, Celereja snatched the bottle.
"Administrator, let me pour for you."
"Thanks, Saintess."
Celereja smiled with her lips while filling Hildeva's glass right to the brim—probably aiming to get her drunk fast. She had no clue how much Hildeva could hold and was playing amateur games. Hildeva just watched her fondly, chuckling with her eyes.
"Administrator, how's the city these days? It was packed."
"Word's spread far and wide, and with the official announcement from the capital, everyone's flocking here. You know this place—it's the gateway splitting north and south."
"Must be hectic. But this is city hall level now, not some outpost. No plans to move to the actual city hall building?"
"Trying to, but no time. Work piles up endlessly, and moving would halt everything. Should've done it sooner."
"Makes sense. Let me know when—I'll help."
"Bertrand pitching in? That'd be perfect. You're crazy strong."
Celereja, who'd stayed quiet since it wasn't her business, piped up at Hildeva's words.
"How do you know Bertrand's so strong, Administrator?"
"Hmm? How do I know?"
Hildeva smirked mysteriously and left it at that. Celereja reacted instantly—her eyes shook like there was an earthquake, and she gripped her glass until her knuckles whitened.
Hildeva turned to me. "Bertrand, mind if I tell the Saintess?"
She meant not our fun little romp, but the Benson barony incident.
"Keep it vague."
Hildeva recounted the events to the trembling Celereja in soft tones, using ambiguous words so no one else would know exactly what happened—just that I'd busted her out of an underground dungeon.
"Bare-handed... he ripped the bars off...?"
Celereja stared at me in shock. I just shrugged. She'd seen me beat priests half to death, but that was still within normal violence. Tearing iron bars and smashing locks bare-handed? That crossed into superhuman territory. Sure, the battle-priests miracle was divine work, not mine.
Anyway, after Hildeva's "explanation," Celereja sighed softly and chugged some beer—thirsty, probably. She grimaced a bit, then chomped a hunk of cheese. Mid-chew, her eyes widened in realization as she looked at me.
"So... Bertrand's your lifesaver, Administrator...?"
"Something like that."
Celereja's face darkened instantly. I turned to Hildeva, who was enjoying the show.
"Oh, right—saw the guard company roll into town a few days back."
"They did. Met the captain?"
"Nah, just from afar. Slick armor."
Hildeva chuckled at that and knocked back more mead.
"Know his name?"
"No clue."
"Lambert de la Tremouille."
"Tremouille—as in the marquisate in Fringridal?"
"Spot on. Their fourth son, I hear."
"Ah, the fourth son."
Nobles' titles and lands go to the eldest. The rest fend for themselves—many join the legions as officers. This Lambert guy seemed the type.
"Guy's got bloodline pride for days. Sets up in the guard barracks and sends soldiers to summon me like some lackey."
"The guard captain bossing around the direct territory administrator...?"
I hadn't chatted with him yet, but the dude sounded clueless. In direct territories, even titled nobles tread carefully around administrators. And this was just a fourth son with no title pulling that?
"Did you go?"
"Hell no. Ignored him. Later, he shows up on his own."
"Pissed?"
"What do you think?"
Hildeva eyed me and the sulking Celereja. "Drops to his knees and kisses my hand. Apologizing for his ungentlemanly discourtesy and all that."
"Crushing on you, huh?"
"Doubt it. Later, spots Della leaving city hall—kneels for her too. Skirts do it for him, I guess."
Hildeva and I burst out laughing. Celereja, dead serious, spoke up.
"You planning to get with that soldier?"
"Why would I? Got someone I like already."
Celereja paled, lips quivering. "Wh-who... who is it...?"
Hildeva cruelly dodged, just smiling and sipping mead. Poor Celereja chugged beer with shaking hands.
Hildeva laughed, removed her glasses, and let down her updo. The sharp civil servant transformed into a mural goddess before our eyes. Celereja squeezed hers shut like she hadn't seen. Hildeva winked at me in the gap.
I was floored watching her toy with the much younger saintess.
"More beer."
Celereja shoved her glass at me. I refilled; she gulped it down.
"Easy. Gonna get smashed again."
"Ah, right. Can't get drunk."
She slammed the glass down, eyes bulging. Bloodshot—already tipsy, but...
I filled Hildeva in on the rumors from Mercenary Captain Hardo: the king passing the throne, Aterugar maybe returning.
Hildeva shared her take; I elaborated. Celereja, lacking context, sulked silently.
"The capital will bend those Kusobo lords one way or another. Without crushing them, the nearby ones'll hold this place hostage..."
Hildeva trailed off mid-rant, eyeing the saintess.
"Our cute Saintess is dozing off."
Celereja clutched her glass with both hands, head nodding. I shook her shoulder gently.
"Saintess, head upstairs to bed."
"Nngh... not sleepy yet..."
She swayed precariously anyway.
"Bertrand, better escort her."
"Be right back."
I scooped her up; she looped her arms around my neck, mumbling as her eyes shut. Weak tolerance plus boring late-night chatter? No wonder she conked out.
Up on the third floor, I laid her in bed—she passed out in that pose. Sleeping, she looked adorable. Though she turned tiger-mode around Pelle.
Back in the hall, light leaked from Idi and Della's door. Della studying again, no doubt.
Downstairs, Hildeva was draining the last drops from a bottle. Three empties rolled nearby. Four of those killer meads and stone-cold sober... So she'd faked it when dragging me to the bedroom before.
As I aimed for the opposite seat, she crooked a finger—here. I sat; she draped an arm around my neck, pulled me in, and kissed me.
"Saintess has a big crush on you."
"From helping her out last time..."
"Did you?"
I just smiled. Hildeva smiled back, pecked my cheek.
"Doesn't matter. Not like that'll stop us."
"True."
I lifted her waist onto my lap.
"Never thought we'd do it in the inn hall."
Undoing my shirt buttons, she grinned mischievously.
Next morning, a scream from Celereja echoed from the third floor, golden light flashing. Idwild tumbled down the stairs.
"The Saintess finally lost it...!"
She bolted outside.
"Kyaa! Saintess! Shooting holy beams at me?!"
Della's shriek followed from above. Moments later, Celereja—still in yesterday's clothes—stumbled down, hunting for me.