My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World



This was so stupid.

Republish every dictionary in existence, rewrite centuries of linguistic history, because the word 'stupid' had a new definition, and this was it. 

"Fridays, Saturdays, you're mine," Irene started explaining the intricacies, holding up two fingers one after the other. "Had to fight tooth and nail to get that, unsure if it was exactly worth it, but there we are. Amanda snagged Sundays, Mondays, and Wednesdays. Noticed she has three? Said it was only fair since I had dominion over the weekends, so…" 

"No, no, you can stop, none of that happened, none of you have days, no more. Stop," there I was interrupting, absolutely aghast, revolted, eyes shut so tight, it physically hurt. I genuinely wanted nothing to do with this. And yet, for some reason, my gaze fluttered open just a peek. "So, Adalia took… Tuesdays? Or, uh…?" 

"Special case, she," Irene replied, still treating this like a literal typical Tuesday of hers. "If she requests a day, she gets a day, even if it's one of ours—no questions, no exceptions. Reasonable, don't you think?" 

Why was I still listening to this? Why was I still entertaining this abhorrent plague of reality? This was a level beyond morbid curiosity, a darker, deeper, insidious desire. That's what's keeping me asking, and I hate it, I hate it so much. 

"Do I dare even ask what—?"

"Your Elf?" Irene predicted the obvious. "Well, I'm sure you can imagine. The humble, frugal Elf-Knight, desiring so little, and satisfied with having even less," She huffed, a small smile on her lips. "Take a guess." 

A guess, she says. But can it even be counted as a guess, if I already knew the answer?

"Ash didn't choose any days, did she?" 

"Not a single one," she nodded. "Instead, what she wanted was what's left when we're done with you. Her own words. She's content, whether it be one minute or one day. It doesn't matter to her so long as you're happy." 

"Oh my God…" I could feel a lump in my throat, a bubbly sensation churning in my stomach, and I was burning up. I think I might be coming down with something. "Then what's… w-what's Tuesday and Thursday for then?" 

"Free days, I guess," Irene shrugged. "Or your days, to be more specific. It's days that are free game for you. Do what you want, be with who you want, it's all on you." 

By this point, I was utterly speechless, overwhelmed, and fitted with all the signs and symptoms of shell shock. I'm super glad there wasn't any mirror in sight; Irene was throwing me a funny look. 

"Curious that you're this horrified," she remarked, tilting her head one way in amusement. "Could be argued that this is a good thing for you. That you should be pleased. You got so many girls vying for your time, you aren't happy? You can have your pick any time." 

"You're not picks," I exclaimed, wide-eyed, and breathing breathlessly. "And no, it doesn't make me happy at all." 

She arched a brow to that, her silence dubious. 

"Maybe just a bit," I reworded myself. "But overall, no. This isn't—this is weird! I don't want any of the time I spend with you to be listed on a schedule! It's not right! It feels so forced! Y'know, artificial!" 

"Wow, Amanda's got you down to a tee," Irene muttered in awe. "Took the words right out of her mouth. She said you'd say that. Exactly like that." 

"Which means she knew that I'd also hate it." 

"I think she'd thought you'd eventually come around to it," she said. "I mean, I'm on your side of the argument, but I'm willing to admit her way does have its merits." 

"Name one." 

"It helps get rid of unnecessary hassle for one," Irene said, replying as the devil's advocate. "I ask you out on a Friday, I don't have to worry that you're already booked. On that day, you're mine. Everyone knows to stay in their ballpark. There's no more of this weird tension when you have to decline someone because you're already with someone." 

I heard myself grumble, incoherent rebukes rolling around my tongue. 

"Fine, there's that, but still…" 

"Merit number two," she continued on, waving both fingers once again and wearing a gleeful smirk. "Your birthday's on the 10th, and Friday's is mine. I don't really see this arrangement lasting long, but at least it's gonna last long enough for it to blow up in her face. Just play along until then, alright?" 

How devious. No wonder she didn't want me to tell Amanda when my birthday was. Just biding her time until karma comes to bite. Honestly, I've half a mind to do just that. But, alas, I'm too soft for that.

"I'm telling her tomorrow," I said.

"Oh, well," Irene shrugged, none too aggrieved. "On the bright side, can't wait to see how she'd try and wrangle my Friday out of me. If she gets down on her knees, I might just consider it."

"Don't bother, she won't," I said. "My Friday's still with you." 

Now it was her turn to mishear, it seemed. The smile disappeared on her lips, and her gaze searched deep into mine. 

"Because… I said so?" she asked. "Or…?" 

"Because I said so," I replied. "Not because it's your day, but because I'm asking you out." 

"I wasn't serious about keeping you all to myself on Friday, you know?" She continued to stare at me. "At the very least, maybe an hour, give you your gift. The rest of the day, well… don't you think Amanda, Adalia, or your Elf might want…?" 

"Amanda can wait. She's on timeout for this nonsense. Also, I'll be going somewhere special with Ash in about two weeks—"

"You are?" 

"—and Adalia had Christmas," I said. "So that just leaves you." 

"I had New Year's." 

"No, you didn't," I shook my head. "Ria had New Year's. Meanwhile you, us… I don't think we've ever done something together in quite a while, have we?" 

Thinking in retrospect, Red was it. Or was it Green that said it? Wait, no, it was Blue. Balance. Romance was a game and love was a ball endlessly tossed back and forth. But so far, all I've been doing was the catching. When was it gonna be my turn to finally pitch to her instead? 

"C'mon, Irene," I scooted closer to her end, discarding the empty pizza box elsewhere to clear my path. "What's a better time?" 

"I…" Her voice trailed off into a heavy sigh. A moment later, her smile resurfaced. "Well, I'm not gonna say no, but… you realize you'd probably have a much better time with anyone else?" 

"Y'know, you all keep saying that," I said, smiling right back. "Funny how you're all always wrong in the end." 

"In that case," she said. "I certainly hope you're right." 

The cabin started to dim a little, flames beginning to wane as the wood in the fireplace began to wither and thin with no fresh logs anywhere to spare. It felt like a cue of some kind.

"Almost gone," Irene said, reading the signs. "Time for us to start heading home, I think." 

"Yeah, sure," slowly, I let myself fall over sideways, returning my head to its rightful place on her soft lap. "But not yet, I don't think. Just ate, remember?" 

"Really?" Irene said airily, her thighs shifting beneath me to a comfier position. Then she poked my cheek, her finger pushing deeper with every word. "Well, isn't that just convenient for you?" 

"Sorry, for me?" I yawned, leering up at her from below. "Enjoy it while you can." 

I always love staring into her eyes whenever the detective inside her disappears. It's a beautiful sight, a euphoric feeling, seeing the sweeter side of her emerge through the fissures and cracks of her sterner demeanor. The way her gaze seemed to droop, soften… I could honestly watch her forever. 

"Should probably express my thanks to Amanda at some point," Irene said, tenderly wrapping a strand of my hair around her finger. "I'm really glad she made me do this with you." 

"Merit number three?" I muttered. 

"And arguably the best by far," she said with a chuckle. "Makes the headache of dealing with her back then truly worth it." 

"Amanda's a headache?" 

"She's opportunistic, cunning, boisterous, unrelentingly cheery," she stopped there, but I suspect that wasn't actually the end of her list. Far from it. "Standard characteristics of a pounding headache, if you ask me." 

"So I take it you're not exactly a big fan." 

"Didn't say I wasn't fond of her," Irene went quiet for a moment, her gaze lifting, the shimmer in her eyes reflecting the wane and flicker of the dying flame "In fact, Ria would have really liked her." 

I didn't know how to follow up the silence following her sentence. All this time, when it came to mentions of Ria, it was all in passing, a throwaway remark. I don't think we've ever directly talked about her this whole time. But the fact that her name keeps cropping up just shows that it's not as if she wasn't always in both our thoughts. 

If that's the case, then why haven't we said anything? And to that, I answer back: where do we begin? Where to even start.

Actually… now that I think about it… wasn't there something else I was forgetting? 

"Hey, Irene," I began slowly, neglected memories flooding to the front of my mind. "Does the word Nara'hym mean anything to you?"

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