Otherworld TRPG Game Master

251 – Between Love and Friendship -3

The culprit is inside.

It’s unlikely that a thief who has reached the realm of transcendence would harbor indiscriminate rage against a couple and play tricks on them; thus, among those scurrying around the mansion, there must be a letter murderer.

And the method to catch that culprit is very simple. Just ask Neriel who she had deliver the letter.

If I pinpoint that b*stard and trace it back, the truth will be revealed neatly. There’s nothing complicated about it.

After removing the one who’s meddling in the middle, a couple’s therapy session will set everything right.

So.

“Neriel, please open the door. Neriel?”

“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”

All it takes is for this firmly closed door to open.

I think I called out for Neriel at the door for about an hour. But she remained silent, offering no substantial response.

If I concentrate my hearing, I can catch the sound of her rustling under the blankets or her shallow breaths. She’s not absent from the room. It’s just that, due to her wounded heart, she’s turning a blind eye to my call.

I understand. She must be scared.

After all, it’s a situation where my mistress is knocking at the door. Whether I apologize or come out boldly, the wounds in her heart will only deepen.

Perhaps she needs time to gather her thoughts.

I should give her a moment alone to think. And when her mood improves, I’ll return to explain everything that has happened.

I slowly stepped away from Neriel’s door…

—-

Go.

I ran and jumped, delivering a dropkick to the door.

Bang-!! Crash!

The door’s hinges shattered, and the door rolled to the floor.

What a load of nonsense about giving her time to think.

Have I been reading romance fantasies for just a day or two? If I try to be considerate of her wounded heart and let misunderstandings pile up, it’ll turn into a snowball that burns down everything in its path.

When the fire is small, you should extinguish it while you can.

Neriel, who had been curled up under the blankets inside, was startled by the sudden door breach and raised her voice.

“What, what is it?!”

“Well, it would have been nice if you had opened the door when I was being polite.”

I brushed my hands off with a relieved expression.

Neriel, who had been wearing a dazed look for a moment, slowly began to show signs of anger. Perhaps she thought I had gone too far by barging into her room.

—

“You ignored me, didn’t you? You know what it means when I say not to come in, right?! Just how far do you intend to make me miserable?!”

Common expressions of language do not resonate with a person filled with anger and sorrow. Moreover, the situation is quite special.

If I say, “Daisy and I are friends,” it would elicit a response like, “At least keep your lies within reason!” or “Does that mean I’m even less than a friend, as a wife?”

No matter how many reasons I give for why Daisy and Heart are friends, she wouldn’t believe a word of it.

So, what do I do?

I need to present something shocking enough to evaporate the emotions of anger and sorrow in an instant, while also providing decisive evidence to support my claim. Fortunately, I have just the means to do so.

I looked at her seriously and opened my mouth.

“Neriel.”

“Stop, just stop. Whether it’s an excuse or an apology… I don’t want to hear a single word from you…!”

“I’m married, and I have a daughter.”

“…Huh?”

Good, I’ve shaken her.

Seizing the moment, I moved swiftly to sit beside Neriel. From my arms, I pulled out a photo album that looked suitably aged (which I had been struggling to make just an hour ago).

And then I took out a magical photograph.

In it were images of the Demon Lord, my true self, and Heart. The three of us were together, forming a V with our hands, a cheerful scene captured through illusion magic.

I pointed to the photo with my finger as I explained.

“This is my precious person, and this is the little life I created.”

“…Eh, uh.”

“Recently, I think she’s hit her teenage years; she’s been quite rebellious. Our dear one just teases her… What do you think? Our daughter is cute, isn’t she?”

“Ah, yes. No, really…?”

I don’t lie. I speak from the heart.

After portraying the foolishness of loving one’s family, once the atmosphere has sufficiently lightened, I was ready to engage in conversation. Neriel had softened considerably.

Isn’t it strange for a woman who loves her family this much to suddenly have an affair with a foreign northern duke?

I added an explanation here.

“Daisy and I are strictly friends. I met him five years ago.”

“…Five years ago, and Heart. Are you perhaps the woman from the past who was incredibly famous in the realm of illusions…?”

“That’s right. I was a storyteller back then. Even then, I was close with Daisy, but we never crossed any lines. I had someone in my heart.”

“I heard rumors that you retired to find true love… So it was this person. The one resembling a crow.”

My past mistakes added credibility to my words. Who would have thought that the absurd rumor of me leaving to find love would come in handy here?

“I came to the North because I needed help from Daisy. Our dear one has been very ill… She’s weakened to about one-thirtieth of her strength.”

—

“⋯⋯It’s strangely specific, isn’t it?”

“I know a very skilled physician who can help⋯⋯.”

With this, I had sufficiently conveyed that I was not the heroine. I hadn’t come to seduce the Duke; I was here to support the ailing main body, and the Duke’s warm demeanor was simply because we were friends.

Neriel’s expression turned to one of regret.

“I’m sorry, Hart.”

“It was a situation that could easily be misunderstood. If anything, I was the one at fault. I wish I had clarified things before any misunderstandings arose.”

And this was the next step.

I didn’t want to see Neriel in a dampened state. She had shown me kindness, so I should naturally offer her strength in return.

The biggest reason for her sadness was that her efforts had gone to waste.

Despite working so hard, Duke Daisy hadn’t recognized her. But wasn’t there a reason her efforts went unacknowledged?

I cut to the chase and spoke directly.

“Neriel, someone has taken your letters. I asked Duke Daisy, and he said he hasn’t received a single one.”

“What?! That can’t be⋯⋯.”

“Who did you entrust the letter delivery to?”

“I entrusted it to Sophie. But she definitely said she delivered it properly⋯⋯.”

A strong suspect’s name came up. Sophie.

It was a sudden realization, but how convenient it was to remember a person’s name. I firmly wrote down the name Sophie on the mental whiteboard in my head.

“Neriel, let’s go meet this maid named Sophie. I think there’s something we need to hear from her.”

“But Sophie is a maid I brought from my family. Other maids might be different, but Sophie is on my side. There must be some misunderstanding⋯⋯.”

“If there’s a misunderstanding, then we need to meet her even more, right? We need to resolve it.”

“⋯⋯I’ll change my clothes before we go. Um, Hart, could you help me with putting on a dress?”

Of course.

—-

I called for the maid named Sophie and pressed her for answers.

At first, she insisted that she had delivered the letters properly, but when I mentioned that I had asked Duke Daisy directly, her face turned pale, and she confessed readily.

“⋯⋯Emma said she would deliver the letter for me. So⋯⋯.”

“Wait a moment, Sophie. Emma is the first lady’s maid, isn’t she? And you just⋯⋯ handed my letter over to her?”

“I-I’m sorry, my lady! But I had no choice. If I didn’t listen to her, Emma would have surely tormented me⋯⋯!”

You’ve outsourced the outsourcing.

Seeing Sophie trembling, Neriel’s expression softened with pity. It seemed she was inclined to forgive the maid who had betrayed her.

—

But I am different. How can I forgive this?

“That means, in the end, you sold out the master you serve.”

“Th-that’s…”

“Neriel was kind enough to forgive you, but I am not. You saw how the Duke of the North was being friendly with me at the entrance, right? If you act like that one more time, know that your name will reach the Duke of the North’s ears.”

“Hii…!”

I firmly issued a warning. I borrowed the name of the Duke of Daisy, thinking it would be more effective for intimidation, but if this happens again, I won’t even bother with the Duke of Daisy.

I might just smash your head with a frame.

Neriel looked at me with a strange expression, then murmured a barely audible thank you. It seemed she was glad that someone was angry on her behalf.

“Now the next destination is set. Neriel, follow me.”

“…Are we going to confront Emma?”

“No. We’re going to the First Lady’s room.”

“What?”

Why would I go through the trouble? It’s easier, faster, and clearer to strike directly rather than deal with the minions.

If I go and settle this outright, they won’t be able to use the attendants to sneakily interfere.

“…But the First Lady is a remarkable person, Hart. It could be dangerous to just go there without any warning.”

“What does she do?”

“The First Lady is the head of the Alchemist Guild. I’ve heard she has connections with the royal family and interacts with them often…”

An alchemist.

If she’s the head of the Alchemist Guild with the royal family backing her, her status is certainly high. There’s a significant difference in standing compared to Neriel, the daughter of a small northern territory.

But who am I?

“I also have royal backing. The First Princess, the Second Prince, and the Third Prince—all of them.”

“…?”

Neriel looked as if she couldn’t believe what she had just heard. Logically, it sounded like a boast, but the way I said it so confidently made her wonder if it was true.

I took Neriel’s hand and strode forward.

“Let’s go. Please tell me about the First Lady as we walk, Neriel.”

“Y-yes…”

—-

Arte Ropelman.

The head of the Alchemist Guild, married to the Duke of the North, Elbillion Julius, five years ago. She has one son and one daughter. The son is the first heir, while the daughter was sent to a monastery to concentrate power.

“…Wait a moment, Neriel. Isn’t the timeline a bit strange? I actually saw the young lady. But no matter how I looked at her, she didn’t seem like a five-year-old.”

—

“I don’t really know either. I think I heard something about using some kind of magical method…”

Many people in the grand duchy felt suspicious about its birth and rapid growth.

However, the Duke officially recognized that they were his bloodline, and the doubts soon sank below the surface.

An alchemist connected to the royal family. Overgrowth.

For some reason, the image of the Grand Knight Commander Kim Lulu came to mind.

As we walked while listening to the explanation, we reached the room of the first wife, Arte Ropelman. Neriell trembled with anxiety, so I lightly patted her shoulder to encourage her.

At the door stood a maid with wide, innocent eyes, who frowned at us and spoke first.

“Master is busy. Please go back.”

It was a rude interruption before we could even state our business. Patience, one.

I stepped back to let Neriell take her place and politely requested of the attendant.

“…Second wife Neriell Brune has come to see first wife Arte Ropelman, so please go inside and inform her of this.”

“I told you, Master is busy. It’s impolite to visit so suddenly; don’t you know that?”

“So I’m asking you to go in and ask.”

“Yes, I’ll ask. But not right now. No one is allowed in. Please come back another time.”

That’s a lie.

I could read it in the attendant’s eyes. The claim that no one was allowed in was false. This mere attendant was fabricating their master’s orders to turn us away.

They were looking down on us.

Patience, two.

“Then we’ll visit again, so please let us know when would be a good time.”

“Well, maybe the day after tomorrow might work… If you come every day, surely you’ll be able to meet her at least once?”

Patience, three.

“Are you saying that the second wife of the grand duchy should come here every day on her own feet? Not that she would come when she has free time to let you know directly?”

“There’s a lot going on. Anyway, you can’t go in today, so please go back…”

Crack!

I took a frame off the wall and swung it at the rude attendant’s head. The attendant collapsed, fainting to the side. It was refreshingly satisfying.

Indeed, when words fail, one must resort to action.

“Ahh… that feels so much better. Shall we go in?”

“…Um, Hart. Why are you still holding onto the frame?”

“If the first wife speaks rudely, it would be a big deal, wouldn’t it?”

“………”

Since I have jumped in, the genre of the Duke’s mansion is not romance fantasy, but a thriller. To those who cannot understand my words, I shall gift them a frame. Be it the Duchess, the attendants, or the knights.

Even if it is the Duke of the North himself!