My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

Chapter 880 Obvious Feelings



Chapter 880  Obvious Feelings

Leon led us right along the tight winding labyrinth of white, candlelit tables with me trailing right behind and Irene bringing up the rear.

"Favor for my dad," He told me, explaining his fancy clothes, and service-with-a-smile demeanor. "Apparently he needed the extra hands."

"Ahh," I said stiffly. "That's nice of you."

"You're, um… lady friend there," He lowered his voice. "The detective at your party before, I recognized her. Who's she really? And what are you - ?"

"We're celebrating," I cut him off.

"Celebrating? Ah, that's right, happy new year's, by the way," He said, throwing a quick smile. "Cheers."

"Yeah," I returned his cheers. "You too."

"Anyway, um," he went on, the king of small talk. "I see that my dad has really taken quite a liking to you for some reason. He doesn't usually give out freebies. Even to friends."

"Yep, we're definitely more than friends, alright," I said dryly.

"How so?"

I just grunted in response, eager to move right along than continue this discussion any further on.

But a glance here, a peek there, and it was more than clear that our handsome blonde host here has some pressing questions he'd love nothing more than to get into.

I pretended not to notice - there was already too much to juggle tonight with Ria without also adding some juicy sweet gossip into the blazing fire. In heavy silence, he led us to our table. A fine, quiet spot tucked away in a corner space.

Our host was at least an accommodating one, sat us down, spread our napkins, and lit our candle from a lighter he had tucked up his sleeve. All very professional and impartial up until he leaned right over to my ear and whispered, "Where's Ash? Is she not with you tonight?"

There we are. Was waiting for that one. Like, can we go one single normal interaction without him inquiring about Ash or would he straight up just die if he ever misses the opportunity to do so? Being serious here.

"Menu," I said, ignoring his question, and making it very apparent that I was.

"No, no menus, we're not eating, we've eaten," Irene cut in, sounding as exasperated as she looked. "Just water, some water, yes, thank you."

Leon cast his eyes back on me to double-check, and I reaffirmed the request with a little shrug.

I could tell he had every intention of sticking around as our well-meaning, diligent waiter, ready to strike up a friendly, enlightening conversation at any moment's notice. Fortunately, a shrill squeal from afar spared us from such a high luxury.

Four tables away, a gaggle of giggling young girls called for his immediate and prolonged attention, sitting around in a circle of batting eyelashes and alluring leers.

"I'll have someone with your waters soon," Leon said with a departing, begrudging sigh. "If you would kindly excuse me now, I have to…"

And with that, he strode off, swaying coattails and all, leaving the both of us with our plates shimmering empty and with a big ass elephant sitting on the table that Irene seemed more than keen to just hide away underneath the white cloth.

"So," I said.

"So?" She repeated back not as cordially.

"C'mon, talk to me, tell me what you're thinking, what you're feeling," I said patiently. "The past few minutes, you've been unusually unlike your usual self."

"I'm fine."

"No one who's actually fine says that they're fine - and you certainly aren't. Look, I can… sorta half-guess Ria has something to do with - "

"Oh, does she now? You really think so? Take a second, maybe it's something else? How astute," Irene snapped with a lotta bite. A second later, she dropped the intensity, and her expression softened with the slight curves of regret. "Sorry, I… I didn't mean to lash at you. That was bitchy. Look, it's just… I'm not - "

"It's okay," I assured her. "Dumb guess. Too obvious. You're right. It was well-deserved snark."

"No, it wasn't."

"I can be dumber, say more stupidly obvious things" I kindly offered her. "Or at least dumb and obvious enough until you think it is."

Somehow, I managed to crack the slightest semblance of a smile on her.

"In any case, yes - you're right, I am thinking about Ria," She confided, heaving out a less-than-vigorous breath. "There's nothing else I've been thinking about ever since we've woken her up."

"Any specific aspect about her, or…?"

"I was just thinking, noticing…" briefly, her eyes wandered in the direction where we had seen Ria last. "You get that feeling too? She's happy."

I frowned. "Happy?"

"You see how she's speaking, acting, just then - for the whole night even?" Irene asked me. "In an hour, maybe more, maybe less, it's going to be goodbye forever, to you, to me… and yet it looks as if she couldn't be any happier about it."

My eyes blinked, and slowly, I felt them open to an immediate understanding dawning. If only I was more astute, I wouldn't need to guess.

"And then on the flipside…" I trailed off.

I looked at her, really looked at her - emotions manifesting in the physical. The shadow in her eyes, the lethargy in her voice, movement. Irene propped her elbows atop the table, slumped her head, and sighed once more.

"I'm fine…" she whispered.

The water came. Served in two pitchers by a waiter-waitress combo that looked all too familiar to me for some reason or another.

"Would you like some ice, miss?" one suggested.

"Or a lemon in yours, sir?" the other offered.

They even sound familiar.

"No, we're fine," I declined.

They both bowed their heads and gave their smiles in perfect sync.

"Please do not hesitate to call if you need anything," the waiter said.

"For the time being, do enjoy your evening," finished the waitress beside him.

Then they both turned and left, and even their walk was in perfect harmony.

I swear I must have seen them somewhere before…

Irene reached out for her glass the instant they went, taking a long, lengthy sip of it before she was finally satisfied. Yet what good it did, I wouldn't know - from where I was sitting, she didn't look any better at all. And in an hour, maybe less, maybe more…

How exactly would she look then?

"Irene," I said, grabbing her other hand, feeling only a small impotent jolt at the touch. "You don't want her to go."

She gave me a lazy blink, slowly plopping her glass back down, and spoke, "You don't actually have to state the obvious for me, just so you know."

I ignored that.

"Tell her, then," I said. "Tell her you want her to stay."

Her lips thinned tightly.

"I'm not telling her anything."

"Why not?"

"I can't even be bothered to list to you all the reasons why that would be a dumb thing to do."

"Name one."

"Because we promised we wouldn't, remember?" She said impatiently. "That we won't do anything to try and stop her. You remember that?"

"Dumb promise. Who's seriously actually gonna go and uphold a stupid promise like that?"

"My stupid self, apparently," she said a little reproachfully.

"Irene, in the car, you pretty much practically confess you love her. You have this one chance, are you seriously gonna let her just walk away from you again?"

"One thing about loving someone is respecting the choices they make for themselves," she rebutted, slinking her hand back from my grasp "Mind doing the same for me here?"

"And another thing about loving someone is stopping them from making stupid ass choices," I said. "And I remember you doing a lot of that for me."

"To very little success, if you recall," she remarked."

"Okay, look," I breathed in. "Either you tell her before she goes, or I will."

That's when Irene went quiet, her gaze sharpening to her signature scowl, and I felt earth's gravity shift a thousand times downward in my vicinity.

"Or how about you just mind your own business instead? That'd be nice."

"You literally had me kick Death out of your doorstep just a few hours ago," I exclaimed. "So I'm pretty sure that that pretty much makes this my business too, y'know?"

She had no response to that, and for a couple of moments of silence, I was subjected to the invisible stab wounds brought about by her piercing gaze.

"All I'm saying is… what's the harm in it, alright? You ask, and somehow you manage to convince her to stay, then - "

"Convince her to stay and then what?" Irene interrupted. "Outlive me, you, everyone? Subject her again to an eternity of misery? She doesn't want to be here."

"What she really wants - you won't know until you actually ask."

"Forget it. There's absolutely nothing out here for her that she would at all miss in there."

"And how about you?"

"Me?" She shook her head, threw a limp shrug. "What about me?"

I realized at that moment. It was comprehension and understanding like nothing else before. I looked at her again, really looked at her again, all that stubbornness, reluctance… all this reasoning and arguing for Ria's sake.

Yet all this time, it's never actually been about Ria.

"This is all about you, isn't it?" I said quietly, slowly. "It's not that you don't want to ask her, it's that you're afraid of asking her. That's what this all is, right?"

Irene looked away from me for a moment, only a moment, but it was a moment long enough, and that was all I needed as confirmation.

I went on.

"You told me you have no idea if she actually even cares about you. You're convinced she doesn't. Yet you can't actually know that for sure, can you? Not unless you can read minds, you can't. But if you ask her, if you reach out to her, you tell her to stay, and then she answers, she responds… what will she say?"

"I don't know," Irene muttered.

"You don't want to know," I said. "Because if she hears you, you finally tell her how you feel, and she says no… then you'll finally know."

Quiet again. Amidst the revelry, festivity, the bang of fireworks, and the choirs of cheers at all sides, somehow it just felt so very quiet.

"Though I told you already…" Irene said, reaching for her glass again. "You don't have to state the obvious for me."


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