PMEVBO 14

But I couldn’t do that, since I was making two servings of pilaf by cramming in every last scrap of beef I’d pried from the annex chef and all the vegetables from the garden.

No matter how desperate I was, I had to feed the kid.

After placing four sunny-side-up fried eggs atop the heaping pilaf, I finished preparing lunch. I carried the pilaf, peppermint tea, and ten macarons on a small tray toward the room.

To clear the quest within the time limit, I’ll need some kind of plan.

What on earth should I do? I was racking my brains when someone called out from behind me.

“Um, um, P-Priest…”

Brown hair braided into two pigtails. Big, calf-like brown eyes. Freckles covering the bridge of her nose. It was Paf, someone I hadn’t seen in ages. She was trembling all over, probably scared out of her wits.

It feels like we’re back to when we first met…

The distance between me and the girl I’d grown close to over a single coin was back to square one.

That first night the duke stormed into the annex. Among the servants mobilized to search my room was Human Paf. It was Human Paf who had opened the dressing table cabinet door by landing on her butt.

So, she was one of the few people who had a front-row seat to my psychopath act that day. To her now, I must look like a deranged murderer who killed an innocent maid over a meal complaint.

Realizing that, it struck me as odd that Human Paf had even spoken to me at all.

Why would you talk to a crazy murderer?

“What is it?”

“Th-this. Th-this thing here…”

What Human Paf offered with trembling hands was something bright red.

“A letter…?”

A letter addressed to Lucariel?

Wait, but who would send a letter to the nuclear waste of the original work? That was nothing short of astonishing.

What kind of lunatic sends a letter to a priest in exile, who ripped a cardinal’s limbs apart? Just as I shifted the tray I was holding with both hands to one hand to take the letter…

“Should I… burn it…?”

“What? Burn it?”

The black sealing wax was still intact, meaning the letter hadn’t even been opened yet. Burn a letter like that? Why? Seeing my bewildered expression, Paf began to confess in a choked voice.

“No, it’s not that… I remember Priest Nebella telling me to burn it. It’s just… I thought I should ask again….. should I burn it…?”

Forget about becoming the scum of the earth for making an innocent child cry in an instant…

I was encountering a letter with such an intense atmosphere for the first time. In other words, it wasn’t me who asked Paf to burn this letter, but the original Lucariel.

Wait, what even is this letter? What on earth was it that made him suddenly tell the maid to burn it? Without even reading it?

“…Do you even remember what I said when I told you to burn this letter?”

“Huh? Yes, I remember… You said that any letter sent to you from His Eminence the Cardinal, I shouldn’t deliver it, just burn it…”

The Cardinal? That poor guy Lucariel beat half to death. And he sent a letter to Lucariel? That blood-red color felt ominous, and now it seemed like a challenge to a duel.

Then, tears like chicken droppings began to fall from Human Paf’s big eyes.

“You, you just said to burn it… I, I’m sorry for coming to ask…!”

“……”

“Bu-but in the meantime, you-your mind might have changed…”

If left alone, she’d likely throw herself flat on the ground like when we first met. So I decided to cut the girl off immediately.

“P-please, just spare my life―!”

“Thank you.”

“Huh…?”

“Actually, I had just changed my mind.”

“…….”

“Thanks to you not burning it right away and coming to ask me instead, I’ll be able to read the letter. Thank you.”

Taking the letter from Paf, who stood with her mouth open, I handed her the ten macarons I’d originally intended for Iser.

“Do you happen to have any allergies? Like eggs or almonds?”

“Huh? Ah, no! I don’t…!”

“Good. Then take those and eat them.”

I’ll make some for Iser next time, I guess.

***

Every time I saw Iser eating, a thought crossed my mind.

He’s a born young master.

Even someone like me, who knows nothing about etiquette, could tell he was elegant and dignified. It was surprising, considering that trash of a duke probably didn’t teach him proper manners. Is it innate?

“How’s the pilaf?”

“Not bad.”

…Yes, of course it is.

Just in case, I popped up the praise quest window, but as expected. The number of praise achievements remained the same, only the time limit had decreased by an hour.

Alright, I admit it. Using food as bait didn’t work. So what the hell am I supposed to do? Try something I haven’t done yet? What even is that supposed to be…? I was wrestling with that dilemma, shoveling pilaf into my mouth, when it happened.

“…But what’s this?”

In Iser’s hand was the blood-red envelope I’d received from Human Paf earlier.

“Ah, right. That was here…”

I’d been so preoccupied with the praise quest that I’d completely forgotten about the Cardinal’s letter. I hadn’t even opened it yet. After getting it from Human Paf, I’d rushed back to the hideout and hadn’t had a chance.

“It’s for me. Give it here.”

Iser, who had been looking back and forth between me and the letter, frowned and handed it over. The hand gripping the bright red letter like an enemy’s throat was surprisingly large.

As I gently unfolded the letter, crumpled like a child’s frown, Iser asked in a sulky voice.

“…You’re exiled, right? But is it okay to exchange something like this in exile?”

“Exchange? You shouldn’t say exchange. I’m only receiving it.”

“What?”

Iser stared at me as if I were the most shameless person in the world.

“…A challenge should only be sent by the victim. How can it be sent by both sides?”

“What’s with all this sudden talk about challenge letters?”

“It could be a threat letter.”

Whether the contents of this red envelope were a challenge letter or a threat one, the only stance the perpetrator who broke a sane person’s limbs should take was to apologize. It wasn’t me, but the original Lucariel who did it, but what could I do? I still have to take collective responsibility after possessing this body.

I leisurely enjoyed a cup of tea. Iser, who had been staring at me in disbelief, frowned and spoke irritably.

“No, red letters like this are only used between lovers. Why are you pretending not to know?”

Iser retorted, pouting his red lips as he began cutting. Yet, despite the knife’s busy movements, not a single grain of rice remained on the child’s plate.

The sight of the etiquette-perfect young master rudely slicing away at an empty plate was undoubtedly a rare spectacle. However, something else had captured my full attention at that very moment.

“…Lovers?”

Pfft

While I was spitting out peppermint tea like someone who’d just heard a  shocking birth secret, Iser brought a napkin and placed it in my hand.

“What’s wrong with you? …You really didn’t know?”

…I really didn’t know.

Shouldn’t love letters be cute and adorable? I don’t understand why blood-red became the symbol for love letters.

But why wasn’t there any mention of red letters in the original work? The original genre is supposed to be romance, so how could that be?

Right. This was a dark romance.

In the original work, the only person the heroine Isabelle had developed an emotional connection with enough to exchange love letters was the male lead. But for various reasons, the two found themselves in a situation where it was difficult to have an open relationship.

Come to think of it, it seems the original protagonists didn’t even have a normal letter exchange event, let alone a red letter exchange event. An event that even romance novel protagonists never experienced is happening to me. Honestly, I’m so flattered I don’t know where to put myself.

More importantly, Lucariel is in that kind of relationship with the Cardinal…?

Actually, in this world, clergy could date or marry. After all, the Pope himself had numerous children with various women, so…

But that Cardinal in question is probably a man.

Was this a larger romance world where love between men was also accepted?

Then again, what if it wasn’t accepted? If the parties involved were madly in love, they’d just love each other.

But seriously, this guy, supposedly the romance second male lead, not only has a past, but that past involves a man? What kind of bastard is this Lucariel?

“Lucariel.”

Iser, who had been silently fiddling with his teacup, finally spoke. He covered his mouth with his hand, pointed at the red letter on the table and asked.

“…Is it true you’re lovers with this person?”

Perhaps he misjudged the distance, Iser’s fingertips touching the letter brushed against mine. The sensation was palpable even through the gloves; there was no way that barehanded kid couldn’t feel it.

Yet, despite being more sensitive than anyone to physical contact with others, he didn’t pull his hand back. Instead, he simply lifted his eyes to meet mine.