| Author: Sasaki Ichiro | Original Source: Syosetu |
| Translator: Mab | English Source: Re:Library |
| Editor(s): Silva | |
The young man with a good upbringing — Luke, sighed inwardly as he mused, “What’s with their blatant attitude? One is condescending, while the other is antagonizing people right out of the gate…”
The elf young man — Ashimi, curled his lips downward as he brooded, “What a bunch of rude savages. I didn’t have to stoop to their level, but could they at least have a sliver of manners…”
The energetic young man — Bruno, turned his face away as he pondered, “What’s their deal? Are they having fun looking down on me? They think they’re way above commoners like me…”
And then, the three of them reached the same conclusion simultaneously:
(((They obviously aren’t suited to be Jill’s friends.)))
In a bustling and peaceful café, where gentle sunlight poured in through the windows, there was one corner with an air of tension, quite distinct from the rest. In the midst of this, a gray-haired girl, an employee of the cafe, displayed an unusual, troubled expression. Normally reserved and composed, she now held her head as though burdened by a heavy weight.
Thus, the first encounter of these three young men — Luke, Ashimi, and Bruno — who happened to share a common acquaintance, Jill, turned out to be something close to the worst-case scenario.
The aristocrat-owned cafe, Letindüte, was located here in the town of Consul.
Though it had only been open for a few months, the cafe was gaining a reputation as an establishment managed directly by the governor, along with rumors of unparalleled, delectable original pastries. Situated near the border regions along a major trade route and with a nearby Teleporter to the Imperial Capital, the cafe had quickly become the talk of the empire. People from various backgrounds, ranging from upper-class nobles to children saving their allowances, visited every day, creating a constant hustle and bustle.
In a corner of the cafe, where one could spot women enjoying their time together, parents with children, and couples in love, three young men sat across from each other at a small table, sipping their preferred drinks and nibbling on pastries.
While a group of male customers wasn’t an unusual sight, as curious farmers and wandering scholars visited from time to time, a combination of an elf, a scion of a noble family, and an adventurer sharing the same table naturally drew attention.1
Aside from their apparent age group, they seemed to have nothing in common. The elf was a young man with long, platinum-colored hair that made him appear about 18 or 19 years old. He gracefully brought a cup of maté tea to his beautiful lips.
Seated to his right was a younger boy, appearing to be around 12 or 13 years old, with a light, golden mane of hair, unmistakably from an upper-class background, sipping black tea with practiced precision.
The last, of about the same age as the other two, with an adventurous and lively air, brashly sipped herbal tea.
They each enjoyed different desserts: the first had sweet potato manju, the second madeleine, and the last panna cotta, resulting in a distinct assortment of treats on a single table.
“““……”””
They were strangers who just happened to share a table due to the lack of empty seats, so it was only natural that they would coexist in silence. However, for some reason, they tried so hard to ignore each other. It was as if they were territorial cats, probing and waiting for the other’s reactions, making it hard for onlookers to believe they were completely unrelated.
Even more so, all three of them were conspicuously good-looking in their own rights, fueling wild imaginations among the other customers in the cafe who paid attention to these three’s every move with sideways glances. The three young men didn’t seem to care about the curious eyes around them, or rather, they were more conscious of trying to avoid eye contact with each other.
Unable to bear such strange tension any longer, the elf girl sitting at the counter, Pryui — the resident musician of this cafe — placed her lute aside and decided to voice her thoughts.
“…so I heard all of you know Jill. Why don’t you start with an introduction?”
Pryui, who had been sipping her apple tea and enjoying apple pie, looked back with an exasperated expression. In response, the three young men, who had been deliberately ignoring each other, put down their cups on the saucers and slightly glared at her.
“…eek,” murmured a girl dressed in boys’ clothing sitting on the counter next to Pryui, falling victim to their glare.
With the anticipation of onlooking patrons eagerly watching this unfolding drama, the young men exchanged glances, reluctantly acknowledging each other.
♢♦♢♦♢
Let’s turn back the clock for a moment—
In response to a request, Pryui performed passages from the epic poems “Silver Holy Knight” and “War Goddess.” The audience erupted in applause and cheers as she finished. They threw silver coins her way, and she asked the gray-haired waitress — Emilia was her name — to pick them up for her (since elves couldn’t touch any metal except pure gold or pure silver). Making her way to the counter, she ordered a drink and a pastry.
That was when Ashimi, a member of her village who happened to be passing by the cafe, showed his face. “Pryui, what are you doing here?!” he asked in Elvish.
“I’m working. I’m parched and on my break, so don’t bother me. Also, this is an establishment for patrons. You either buy something or get out,” she replied curtly.
“Why would I eat the food made for these beans?!”
Pryui pointed at the menu on the wall without giving Ashimi as much as a look.
“Don’t worry. We can eat here too. There are many options that don’t use egg or animal fat. …well, there’s no tofu-based vegetarian dish made by Jill that you love so much, though.”
“I-, I’m not in love with that brat!”
“Hmm. I’m pretty sure the topic was the dish, though…?”
“WHA—!”
After such banter, Ashimi decided to stay in the cafe. However, since there were no other vacant seats, he shared a table with Luke, who had been occupying a three-person table.
“—excuse me, may I ask something?”
“…what do you want?”
Unfazed by Ashimi’s cold, or even downright irritable attitude, Luke politely inquired of the elf.
“My Elvish isn’t perfect and I couldn’t catch half of what you said, but by any chance, do you know Jill…Julia Brandmüller, daughter of Baroness Brandmüller?”
Hearing that, Ashimi’s eyes sharpened. “You…”
