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Mary, the House Fairy.

Self-proclaimed as the ultimate handyman of the Wizard’s Tower.

If asked which three favorite foods she would choose among the countless varieties she loves, including freshly baked bread and anything with eggs or dairy, she’d have an answer ready.

A soft and sweet jam doughnut filled to the brim.

A freshly baked egg tart topped with vanilla ice cream.

And her own creation: a sweet and soft cream puff.

After a year of intense internal conflict over the colorful recipes she and (mostly) Karem had created, these were the three dishes she had settled on.

But suddenly, she was struck by a thought.

After all, they were all just desserts; maybe it was a meaningless choice.

With reverence, Mary lifted a plate with tiramisu in front of her.

She slowly turned the plate with both hands, either from below to above, or vice versa, repeatedly changing positions.

Mary continued to admire it as if it were a piece of art.

The thick, heavy cream covered her nearly black brown eyes.

Underneath was a shortbread cookie stained light brown all the way through.

And the cream cheese, nearly white and a soft yellow, stuck between the two cookies.

Any house fairy passing by would undoubtedly agree that it was an overwhelming sight to behold, Mary was certain of it.

Perhaps, some others might wonder.

Who on earth created such a masterpiece?

It was I.

House Fairy Mary.

The greatest handyman in Coldon made this.

She lightly brushed aside the fact that Karem had discovered and designed it.

After all, she was the one who crafted it, right?

Mary felt exceedingly proud.

“So, when are you going to eat what you so reverently admire?”

“Please be quiet.”

I’m currently in the middle of appreciation. Ignoring Gordon’s light remark, Mary resumed her rapt attention.

“…Is it typical to act like that?”

“Uh, is this your first time seeing it?”

“That sounds like a reaction that’s happened often before.”

“Well, it happens frequently.”

“Hmm.”

Gordon puffed out his cheeks and stroked his goatee.

It looked plausible, but was it really? Well, one would find out once they tasted it.

He took a little forkful from the edge.

And he was stunned.

“Umm. Oh. Indeed.”

Gordon, shocked at first, this time took a hefty chunk.

He quartered the tiramisu and shoved one piece into his mouth all at once.

“This is incredible. I can see why those two over there are at each other’s throats.”

“Huh? At each other’s throats?”

“Just look.”

Gordon pointed his fork, and Karem turned his head.

“Oh, looks like your mouth isn’t hungry, huh? Then you don’t really need to eat right now, just put the plate down and grab my fork.”

Catherine scolded him for continuing to admire the dish, suggesting he should eat later.

“Please be quiet. I’m savoring this beauty in more detail.”

“Hey, have you forgotten your relationship with me?”

“I’m more serious than anything.”

“That’s the problem! You rebellious one!”

And so, Mary was engaged in an argument while continuing her admiration.

Gordon raised an eyebrow at Karem, sharing a silent question about what was going on.

“So, this is what it is, huh?”

“That could last a bit longer. Isn’t it kind of unusual?”

“Well, typical servant relationships tend to feel a bit stricter and more formal.”

“Is that so?”

“…No, actually, now that I think about it, it does happen sometimes.”

It wasn’t such a unique relationship after all.

Considering the relationship he had left behind with (future) servants and Gordon was quite similar.

“Anyway, tell me more about what happened in the kitchen.”

Gordon dug into another piece of the quartered tiramisu and asked.

“What on earth happened?”

“No, really, that’s all there is to say.”

As he turned his head using a swift motion, the situation had already unfolded.

“We got the ground Alraune powder that we dried and mixed.”

“The priest elder from the Herb Room. Was his name Rowen?”

“It’s Rowan. Rowan. Rowen is a girl’s name. Anyway, he took a little with him and then left after looking around.”

As Karem spoke, he fished out a shortbread cookie that had been soaked in Alraune brew from the pot and placed it on the plate.

This one was his contribution.

“While preparing the ingredients, there was a scream, and he was melting under his robe.”

“Really, nothing else? That’s all?”

“Well, prior to the scream, we were just preparing ingredients and chatting, you know?”

There was no way to grasp the situation under those circumstances, much like having eyes on the back of their heads.

“Well, you could at least be aware of things happening behind you.”

“That’s because you have inhuman physical abilities.”

“You could train.”

“To the level of a Swordmaster?”

“That’s pushing it.”

“See? Seriously.”

Karem clicked his tongue at Gordon’s unreasonable comment and began putting soaked shortbread cookies on the roughly prepared cream cheese again.

“But really, wasn’t there anything else?”

“When we looked at the scream, Rowan became like that, and the other chefs were dealing with the situation.”

Ultimately, Karem and Mary rushed back.

That was all that had happened.

As Karem bit into the completed tiramisu, he asserted this.

Disappointed by his retort, Gordon swallowed the last piece of tiramisu with a glum expression.

“Well then, I suppose we should check it out ourselves.”

In the end, Catherine, having triumphantly turned Mary’s admiration into a tasting event, drummed her fingers on the table, drawing everyone’s attention.

“If you have such discerning tastes, we mercenaries, you and I, are far better.”

“That just goes without saying, doesn’t it?”

“Sitting here with nothing to do would just be boring, wouldn’t it?”

“Didn’t the Sir/Madam Mage say there were documents pending?”

“Shut your mouth.”

Catherine dismissed Gordon’s comment that disrupted the atmosphere and stood up.

“Well, getting someone in on the situation is all good and fine.”

Karem bit into the tiramisu.

“How about you go a little later?”

“I agree with that.”

Mary, who had given up on her admiration and finally set down the half-eaten tiramisu plate, also agreed.

Faced with unexpected rejection, Catherine frowned.

“What are you two unsatisfied with?”

“…There’s still so much tiramisu left, you know?”

Snack time wasn’t over yet.

Mary shook her head enthusiastically, agreeing.

“Oh.”

At those words, Catherine also sat back down. In front of her was a similarly unfinished tiramisu just waiting.

The four of them got up from their seats after a little while.

That was after all the ingredients they had brought were used up.

*

*

*

It’s not particularly special for a person to die in Europa.

Especially in a place like Iceland.

The moment you leave the boundary between the city and the village, you are faced with a world of barbarism filled with all sorts of predators, monsters, and thieves. Even inside civilization, if you’re unlucky, they come to meet you.

Death is frequent, besides the incursions of barbarism.

People die fighting in pubs, over petty disputes, from freezing to death while sleeping outside after getting drunk, and being robbed, among other things.

Of course, if such things were to happen within the city and village, it would cause many headaches for people. Mainly those responsible for the city’s security.

Then what if such events occurred in a powerful figure’s residence?

Especially if that residence ranks among the top five significant facilities across the entire Kingdom of Seophone?

An incident occurred in the kitchen of Afterglow Fortress.

Upon receiving the report of the incident, Steward Wallace immediately issued orders.

The knights and soldiers promptly sealed off the fortress and restricted entrants, and some among them began investigating those present at the scene.

The steward himself led the knights and soldiers directly to the kitchen.

Initially, Catherine and her group, being outsiders, would also be subjects of investigation.

Yet Catherine had acted first.

Claiming to assist in the investigation with Gordon.

Keeping an eye on suspects Karem and Mary who were present at the scene.

With this excuse, Catherine accompanied Wallace and led her group into the kitchen.

“Tsk. It seems unexpected expenses are arising.”

As soon as he stepped into the kitchen, Wallace clicked his tongue.

“Unexpected expenses?”

“I’m talking about the dinner for the fortress.”

“Oh, that sounds like a headache.”

At that remark, Karem instantly understood why.

In the center of the expansive kitchen stood a massive stove.

By now, the roasting spit should have been revolving with sizzling meat impaled on it.

But it remained empty, merely glowing in the slow fire.

Upon entering the kitchen, the group first headed to the scene.

To the place where Rowan’s traces remained.

“What kind of poison could make a person…”

Karem trailed off.

Beside a fallen bowl of soybean paste stew, dark brown traces melting under a disheveled priest’s robe were dried on the floor.

Gordon flared his nostrils at the faint smell.

“This smells like a decaying corpse. Undead?”

“Isn’t this indoors? The smell is too faint for that.”

“I’m not sure either, but I’d have to say the smell is pretty weak.”

At Catherine’s question, Gordon closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and shook his head.

“Lord Karem. I’ve heard that you were present along with Sir Atanitas’s house fairy. Is that confirmed?”

“Uh, yeah. I had my back turned, so I don’t precisely know what happened.”

“That is during the interrogation of the chefs. Could you reenact what happened?”

“Um, it really wasn’t anything much.”

Karem nodded at Mary, re-enacting the situation.

Well, there really wasn’t much to it.

He asked Mary for help and got the dried Alraune powder from Rowan.

Divided it, then tossed it into a pot of boiling water.

Waited for it to brew sufficiently.

And then—

“Ah.”

“Understood.”

Karem and Mary simultaneously recalled something.

Those observing both of them kept a watchful eye on what they were doing.

Returning to the place where Rowan’s traces remained, Karem and Mary left their spots.

The sound of the bowl.

“Given the circumstances, that man named Rowan must have eaten a stew made from Alraune.”

And then, Mary turned her head straight to the opposite side.

Gazing at the large pot full of soybean paste stew, she opened the lid.

“In that case, there can only be one suspect.”

The stew had cooled completely but was still filled to the brim.

“Karem, my junior. It’s you!”

And she blurted out the absurd accusation.

“Hmm, is that so? Wait a second, what do you mean?”

“The one who brought the Alraune into this stew is you, right?”

“…Well, that would be me.”

“That makes you the culprit.”

“No, if you think about it, then the chefs who cooked the stew are also suspects. If that were the case, then why are the chefs we ate from last time still perfectly fine?”

Karem immediately countered, as if to say that was ridiculous. Mary lightly slapped her palm against her forehead, realizing she hadn’t thought of that part.

“Let’s cut out this pointless chitchat.”

Catherine stated this and shook her head in disbelief.

Then she leaped over the traces left by Rowan and the bowl, standing before the pot.

“Sir Atanitas. Do you have any guesses?”

“I’m just starting to get a faint idea. Mary, let’s end the exchanges as servants now.”

Catherine answered Wallace’s question, as though unwilling to hear any objections, and waved her hand at Mary to step aside.

As Mary stepped aside with the lid in hand, Catherine immediately peered into the pot.

“Are you really planning to find poison?”

“No, now I’m certain. It’s not poison.”

“A contractor?”

“I need to taste it, so bring me a spoon.”

At the completely unexpected request, Mary froze.

Karem, not missing the chance, stepped in and handed over the spoon, deftly retrieving a spoonful of the now-cold soybean paste stew from the pot.

Mmm.

“…Hmm. Just as I expected. That familiar spicy note.”

“Spicy note?”

“Yeah. It’s been so long since I tasted it, I thought it was an illusion.”

With her eyes closed, savoring the taste, Catherine turned toward Karem.

Her gaze held a tremendous amount of disbelief.

“…Holy Water?”

She arrived at an outrageous conclusion.

 

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