“Come here right now, Egru.”
Mayfield commanded in a trembling voice.
“I said hurry up and come to your senses!”
When Levian firmly grabbed Egru as he tried to step forward, Mayfield’s voice grew even louder.
“You’re my servant! You should worship my words like divine commands! Do you want to be thrown out after coming this far?”
“Good heavens, what a foul-mouthed young lady. You’ll hurt our boy’s feelings.”
Levian playfully covered Egru’s ears with both hands. The infuriating sight made Mayfield’s lower eyelid twitch. She felt something snap in her mind.
Levian dropped one hand from Egru’s ear and made a show of whispering to him.
“You need to know your place, Egru. You should know how to keep your distance from people, hmm?”
He didn’t lower his domineering voice at all. He had no intention of hiding anything from the start.
“This is what happens when you give your heart to just anyone. It’s all your fault, Egru, understand?”
Levian’s attitude of treating everything like a joke only fueled Mayfield’s emotions further.
“Egru, you’re just like all the others!”
Mayfield’s barely maintained rationality finally snapped.
“You don’t listen to a word I say, do you? Well, I don’t need someone like you anymore!”
“Y-young lady…”
“You filthy mongrel! Don’t ever show your face to me again! Got that?”
Mayfield took off her pointed shoe and threw it at Egru. But it fell short, landing in front of his worn-out boots.
“Do you know who I am?”
Tears seeped into Mayfield’s shout.
“I’m House Mayfield! You’ve made a huge mistake! Just wait! I’ll make you regret this!”
“How frightening. Let’s go quickly, Egru. You’re damn lucky to have me.”
“Wait! Stop!”
“If I may, Grand Duke.”
“Yes, please go ahead.”
At Levian’s words, the Grand Duke, who had appeared unnoticed, grabbed Mayfield.
“Calm down, darling! We’ll get you a new servant right away! I’ll find you someone even cuter than that thing tomorrow, so stop this, alright? You must maintain your dignity as a Grand Duchess!”
The Grand Duke spoke as if Egru were merely an object. Mayfield struggled in his grip.
“Egru! Hey! Are you deaf too? Can’t you hear me! How dare you do this to me!”
Levian grabbed Egru’s head as he turned back crying and dragged him away. Egru’s feet barely touched the ground as he was pulled along. That was the last Mayfield saw of him.
“How could you do this to me…”
Her knees gave out, and Mayfield collapsed, sobbing.
***
“What do I do, what should I do…”
Mayfield crossed the mansion garden with an anxious face. Regret for her impulsive emotions came quickly.
She rushed to the Milfia Guild, but Levian wouldn’t show her Egru. The guild members kept her running in circles for days, claiming the guild master was absent.
Though outraged at the guild members’ obvious lies, Mayfield couldn’t stand her own ignorance either.
To think I don’t even know where Egru lives after all this time…
Her departure date, which had been creeping closer, was now just tomorrow.
Am I really leaving without even apologizing?
Wiping away endless tears, Mayfield finally wrote her last letter.
[I’m sorry, Egru. I didn’t mean a single word I said. You’re my only friend.
If you ever miss me—no, if you ever need me—come to the Demon Federation anytime.
House Mayfield will cover your travel expenses, so don’t worry. I can give you any help you need.]
The tear-stained letter was sent to the Milfia Guild. It was utterly devastating that Levian was her only connection to Egru.
Sadly, no reply came through the anxious night until her departure.
Without even knowing if Egru had received her letter, Mayfield had to leave the Empire.
Things were hectic for a while after arriving in the Demon Federation. Still, she made sure to send Egru a letter every week without fail.
[Egru, will we see each other again?
This is Orc territory, and it’s really unique and wonderful here. The traditional food is amazing. There are even spices that smell like soap but are quite edible. Isn’t that fascinating? You’d love it if you came to visit someday.
Please write back if you ever forgive me. I’ll wait. Your friend, Mayfield.]
She was glad she’d brought her personal messenger bird. The Mayfield family must be puzzled that the weekly letters contained only greetings for Egru.
Around that time, Mayfield spent tedious hours with the Orc noble she was arranged to marry. That day was no different. While halfheartedly answering the Orc noble’s questions, she was planning her next letter to Egru.
A strange woman suddenly appeared before Mayfield.
“Pardon my boldness, but I fell in love at first sight. May I ask your name?”
It was Röwugor, the Orc Crown Princess. Her audacity in completely ignoring Mayfield’s betrothed right beside them was remarkable.
Mayfield looked up at the Crown Princess. She was visibly strong and large—the complete opposite of Egru. But like Egru, she was also lovable.
The Empire actually welcomed the relationship with the Orc Crown Princess, and they generously compensated the noble family that had been originally arranged for marriage.
Thus, the wedding with Röwugor was held among the demons who were wary of the Empire’s humans.
Unlike Röwugor, who worried about being a burden to her, Mayfield didn’t mind at all. She was confident everyone would accept her.
Her prediction wasn’t wrong in the slightest. As Queen Röwugor, Mayfield gained recognition for implementing excellent demon-friendly policies. She was even more satisfied than when she’d lived in the Capital.
A loving wife, peaceful daily life, an environment where she could fully utilize her abilities.
Everything was perfect. Except for one thing.
I’ve been waiting to meet again someday…
To think he had fallen victim to the Empire’s demon massacre.
Mayfield stared out the window with empty eyes. Beyond the massive window of her chambers, she could see the blood-red full moon.
It was unclear what she should strive for now. She knew she had to rise again someday for her friend who had left first. But right now, she couldn’t find the strength at all.
She loathed the Empire and hated her family.
Mayfield buried her face in her pillow, crying once again.
Not knowing that Egru was staying in temporary quarters at the palace.
There was a room with a small window in the basement of the Papal Headquarters. Multiple locks were attached to the window frame, apparently to prevent it from opening.
The spacious room was filled with newly released toys and confections from famous bakeries. It was a magnificent playroom that most commoner children couldn’t even dream of. Yet the room’s occupant seemed displeased with everything.
“It’s a lunar eclipse.”
Salvanel said, looking up at the small window.
“A good day for crowd control and agitation. A red moon is mysterious in itself, isn’t it?”
Tarn neither confirmed nor denied Salvanel’s words. He just lay with his back turned, pretending to sleep.
“I wish the Hero would be intoxicated by the rosy moonlight and accept my feelings.”
Salvanel quietly sighed. Unusually for someone who rarely wore accessories, he fidgeted with his necklace to relieve tension.
Instead of a large gemstone, it had a wooden stick processed like a pencil without lead, which was quite odd. The silver chain necklace swung straight down between Salvanel’s clean collarbones.
“Strange smell…”
Just then, Tarn’s nostrils twitched upward. He suddenly sat up and turned to look at Salvanel.
Salvanel smiled at Tarn’s cuteness. The new homunculus was particularly adorable, having been made in the image of a small dog beastkin.
“So you were awake after all. Have you gotten used to your new body, Tarn?”
“What’s that?”
“What is?”
Salvanel smiled gently and bent down toward Tarn. The necklace slipped forward, swaying like a light pendulum in front of Tarn’s nose.
“Stick…”
“Ah, this? It’s my token of good fortune.”
Salvanel’s elegant smile quickly turned to bewilderment.
“Why are you crying, Tarn? Is something wrong?”
“Bad person, white bad person…”
Tarn turned away again with a tearful face and lay down.
Salvanel tried to comfort Tarn with a puzzled expression before finally leaving the room. It was time for his appointment with the Commander who had returned from the battlefield.
“Please cheer for me, Tarn. That my confession tonight will succeed. Actually, I hadn’t planned to approach so hastily, but…”
Salvanel thoughtfully touched his chin.
“At this rate, I’m afraid the Hero will be taken by a dead man who has no place left in this world.”
“…It was never yours to begin with.”
Salvanel smiled as he closed the basement door one last time.
“No, Tarn.”
His soft voice echoed through the marble space.
“Since I created it, it belongs to me.”
His measured footsteps ascended the stairs toward the ground floor of the Papal Headquarters.
But his long-awaited meeting with the Hero would lead Salvanel to a completely unexpected situation.
For instance…
If the Hero he had trusted with his whole heart turned out to be nothing but an impure fake.