“Miss Sivirinde, I can already sense your apology, so there’s no need to act like that. Even if I have that overblown title of Holy Knight, right now I’m just a prisoner. As a marquis, you really don’t have to worry about my feelings.”
Morris, recovering from his earlier shock, shook his head calmly, intending to gently and humbly remind the young marquis to keep things proper.
She shouldn’t do things inappropriate for her status.
“…You can’t say that. Maybe to El, you’re just a prisoner, but to me, you’re almost like a Nemesis. When facing your Nemesis, one must always be respectful—it’s a biological survival instinct.”
At Morris’s reminder, the marquis truly did stop with her further apologies.
However, she didn’t bother tidying her half-disheveled clothes, and instead, with complete seriousness, began to spout nonsense.
Nemesis? What Nemesis?
Morris’s face was full of confusion, not understanding what she was getting at.
To help Morris understand, the marquis continued in her cold, aloof tone:
“…You’re a Holy Knight, aren’t you? And I am the ‘Scarlet Demon.’ It’s just like Dragon Slayer and Dragon, or Vampire Hunter and Vampire. As a Holy Knight, you’re naturally my Nemesis—isn’t that so?”
“No, no, that doesn’t make sense at all! First off, it’s not like Dragon Slayers or Vampire Hunters are the natural counters to Dragons or Vampires every time, and besides, that’s just your nickname—you’re not actually a demon, are you?”
Morris looked at the red-haired beauty in front of him… those Dragon horns atop her head and those elven ears, utterly at a loss.
As a Holy Knight famous for eradicating evil, he couldn’t sense any demonic aura from Sivirinde. Judging by appearances, Sivirinde looked far more like a Night Elf cosplaying as a Dragon than any demon.
Morris simply couldn’t understand why Sivirinde called herself a demon.
“…Huh? I’m not? But every time I see you, my heart starts racing. I thought it must be more than just admiration—I figured it was also the fear of seeing my Nemesis. Turns out, it isn’t.”
It was as if Sivirinde had just cleared up a lifetime’s misunderstanding. Her cold voice carried a hint of wonder, her expression changing slightly in sudden realization.
“……”
She always appeared aloof and detached, as if above all worldly matters, but Morris had long since realized she just lacked the emotional fluctuations most people had.
And he’d confirmed something else, too.
The young marquis was absolutely a natural airhead!
They had agreed before that after that one stolen moment, both would forget it. Morris had abided by that.
But she would occasionally, without warning, launch ‘surprise attacks’ on Morris, often showing affection in subtle, unexpected ways.
It left Morris feeling rather troubled.
He pretended not to notice, remaining silent.
But he was genuinely worried Sivirinde might blurt out something like ‘I like you’ in front of Elvira.
Then he’d be in real trouble.
“Ahem, anyway, I can assure you that you’re not a demon. But are you sure it’s alright for you to be here? Elvira should be back soon, shouldn’t she?”
Morris cleared his throat awkwardly, drawing Sivirinde’s attention, then glanced at her with a trace of worry.
“…Mm, well, I can’t say there’s no problem at all. Even if nothing illicit has happened, it wouldn’t be strange if El misunderstood, seeing us alone together in the same room. It’s just that there was no one outside the door when I came, so leaving now is a bit tricky.”
At Morris’s reminder, Sivirinde checked the clock and realized it was getting late—she should leave.
But the two maids outside the door gave her pause.
If they saw her, it would be as good as telling Elvira directly. That would surely arouse her suspicions.
“I’ll take care of this. Hide behind the door for now. When I distract them, you slip out.”
Morris understood her concerns perfectly and already had a solution in mind.
After briefly explaining the plan, Morris opened the double doors of the Queen’s Bedchamber from inside, and Sivirinde hid herself in the corner between the door and the wall, concealing her figure.
“Mister Morris, is something the matter?”
The two maids, who had been standing properly by the door waiting for the Queen’s return, were puzzled to see the doors open from within.
Morris had only returned to the room ten minutes ago.
And Elvira’s room had everything—even a bath for two.
They couldn’t imagine what more Morris could possibly need.
“Mm, to be honest, I do have a little trouble. Sorry, could you both come in for a moment?”
Morris put on a sincere look, choosing not to lie, but instead directly inviting both maids inside to create a chance for Sivirinde to escape.
“Hmm… That’s fine, but you’re not trying to escape, are you? That won’t do! Even if you don’t think of us, you have to consider your own safety.”
The maids entered without suspicion, but one of them still reminded Morris not to do anything reckless, watching him with concern.
“Don’t worry. I won’t try to escape unless I’m absolutely certain it’ll work.”
Seeing someone worry about him, Morris smiled gently, then turned his back and led them further into the room like a guide.
—So you really are going to try escaping.
The two maids smiled helplessly, completely absorbed by Morris’s demeanor, following him without the slightest suspicion.
It was rather coincidental—Sivirinde had planned to slip away while the maids were distracted.
But one maid suddenly clapped her hands and let out a gasp, inadvertently drawing Sivirinde’s attention just as she was about to leave.
“Ah! I get it now! Mister Morris, you’re planning to use your good looks to turn us into your allies, aren’t you? That won’t work! Unless you lean against the wall, tug your shirt open to reveal your chest, and gaze longingly into the distance, we won’t help you!”
After speaking, the maid stared at Morris in amazement, matched by his own astonished expression.
What on earth was this? Was this maid casually demanding he pose like some pretty-boy?
“Vira, what nonsense are you spouting all of a sudden! There’s no way Mister Morris is that sort of person.”
Fortunately, the other maid spoke up for Morris, scolding her companion sharply.
This made Morris rather happy.
Looks like there are still some normal people in this country.
“How could Mister Morris do something so shameless! And even if he did, it shouldn’t be a brooding look, but a troubled yet gentle, forgiving smile! That’s the expression that suits Mister Morris best—kind and compassionate, not melancholy!”
…Well, maybe he’d spoken too soon.
“Impossible! You’re the one who doesn’t get it! Mention Mister Morris, and you think of the dashing, melancholic knight; mention a melancholic, dashing knight, and it’s always Mister Morris! Compassion and kindness are for priests!”
“It’s not like only priests can have that air! When someone asks Mister Morris for help, he’d agree reluctantly even if he doesn’t understand, showing that gentle, fatherly tolerance—that’s what’s best about him!”
It was embarrassing to admit, but even with Morris right there, he couldn’t quite understand how the two maids had gotten into an argument about his ‘attributes’ out of nowhere.
The only fortunate thing was that their quarrel had made them even less likely to notice the door.
Surely the marquis could escape safely now…
Just as Morris thought this and glanced at the door, he was startled to find the marquis listening with rapt attention to the maids’ debate, occasionally nodding to agree with one or the other.
Morris was utterly speechless.
In the end, it took a sharp look from Morris to remind her, and only then did the marquis reluctantly, but swiftly and silently, slip out of the Queen’s Bedchamber, disappearing down the corridor.
Seeing her escape without incident, Morris felt a swirl of complex emotions.
Sigh… It really isn’t easy being a prisoner.
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