In the end, I found myself scratching my cheek and politely declining.
"Uh... I'm a bit busy today..."
"Oh my. I seem to have picked the wrong day to visit."
"Ahaha..."
Ding~
Should I call it a relief?
The bell rang right before Geoffrey could follow up with any more troubling remarks.
Glancing to the side, I saw Lionel, wearing his hood up again. Though he had been showing a much milder attitude lately, perhaps that was exclusively reserved for me, as he immediately raised his chin and snapped irritably.
"You lot have no sense of decency. How dare you arrive before me, when I rushed straight here right after the Imperial Council meeting?"
"Could it perhaps be that Your Highness's strides are lacking due to your... shorter stature?"
His tone was perfectly polite, but the intent was blatant mockery. I merely shrugged at Geoffrey’s characteristically sharp tongue. Lionel, clearly having a nerve struck, gritted his teeth and muttered.
"...Your mouth must itch if you aren't busy provoking people."
From what I’d observed, Lionel and Geoffrey were like oil and water, two entities that fundamentally couldn't mix. I hadn't noticed when they visited separately, but whenever their schedules overlapped like this, they would bicker endlessly like children.
I had no idea why. To be fair, they weren't exactly best friends in the original story either, but they certainly weren't at each other's throats like this.
In the blink of an eye, sparks began flying between them. Or rather, they were only flying from Lionel's side. Geoffrey remained utterly unfazed, leaving the Crown Prince as the sole participant grinding his teeth and swallowing his fury.
I offered an awkward smile at the sudden heavy atmosphere settling over the inn. I may have dodged Geoffrey's tricky invitation, but that didn't mean I wanted a front-row seat to a brawl. Shrugging, I carefully set two steaming bowls of soup down in front of them.
"Please don't fight in the inn. It makes the other customers uncomfortable."
The moment Lionel looked ready to complain, a voice cut in from behind.
"Exactly. Really shows your class."
Holy crap. It was Damian.
I frantically gestured for this clueless, tactless monster to shut his mouth, but Damian merely let out a dismissive snort.
"What are you looking at? You think shouting in a dining hall is something to be proud of? Stop glaring."
I mean, he wasn't logically wrong, but...
It was truly lamentable that a literal monster was the voice of reason among the most powerful figures of the Empire currently engaged in a childish battle of egos.
At Damian's words, the air in the inn froze instantly.
Geoffrey, who knew Damian’s true identity, instantly stiffened. Lionel’s nose twitched in sheer disbelief at the sight of a lowly worker daring to snap at the Crown Prince. Theord pretended not to care, but the rigid line of his shoulders betrayed his hyper-vigilance.
The only saving grace was that Theord and Lionel somehow let this blatant insubordination slide.
Because Damian had a habit of spitting out informal speech to absolutely everyone, I had laid some groundwork beforehand just in case.
I had spun a tale about Damian being a pitiful young man who had suffered a severe head injury as a child, leaving him a little... slow, and that he wore his bandana to hide the terrible scars. Thanks to my tear-jerking excuse, they managed to overlook his blasphemous behavior with their noble magnanimity.
Still, I needed to defuse the situation before their patience completely ran out. Caught in the middle of them, I let out a long sigh and mumbled.
"...Just eat your food quickly and leave quietly, please."
Whenever things like this happened, it crossed my mind that life had been much easier when I was just a part-timer here. At least then, I wouldn't have to deal with such massive headaches. I caught Gilbert's eye from the side; he was watching me with a look of pure pity.
"Shion, the spell of love for me too."
"I would also like to hear it. It has been a while."
Lionel and Geoffrey spoke in unison, both staring directly at me.
Hang on, didn't Lionel look absolutely appalled the first time he heard that spell, reacting as if it were the most vulgar, bizarre act in the world?
Even now, he was looking at me like he was witnessing an atrocity, so why the hell did he order me to do it every single time he visited?
As our piercing gazes collided, Damian boldly strode into the fray. The moment he reached out and possessively adjusted my apron strings, the glares of the three men clashed head-on, sending invisible sparks flying across the inn.
...Seriously, since when did things get this out of hand?
All I ever wanted was to peacefully sell my soup.
Please, I'm begging the universe. I just wish they would all pay their tabs and get lost.
Time dragged on. My mental state went beyond being drained; it was practically ground into dust, ready to be swept off the floor.
As I stood there with a haggard face washing dishes, Lionel, who had remained quietly seated until the bitter end, finally looked up. Where was the man who had severely furrowed his brows the moment the spell ended earlier, as if his eyes were burning? Now, his golden eyes were gazing at me with deep intent.
Knowing exactly what that look meant, I swallowed hard and gave a slow nod. The moment he received my confirmation, Lionel rose from his seat as if nothing had happened.
...Seriously, what a terrifyingly sweet ordeal. Just awful.
The only problem was that someone had been watching us exchange that secret signal.
"Shion."
That evening, after the inn had closed for the day, our part-timer and resident monster, Damian, stood before me with a decidedly sullen expression.
"Damian...?"
As he stared intensely at my face without a word, a bead of cold sweat trickled down my forehead.
Ah... Right. If I'm really going to wrap up this inn and leave, there is one massive mountain I have to cross first.
And the name of that mountain was none other than Damian.
"What kind of looks were you exchanging earlier?"
"Hahahaha, well..."
I let out an awkward laugh and avoided his gaze. Truth be told, I had been thinking I needed to bring this up sooner or later anyway.
The problem was, I hadn't expected the timing to be now, right when Damian was already in a foul mood.
Seeing him pout with his lips twitching in displeasure, I scratched my cheek.
Although I mentioned earlier that my relationships with the other guys had changed, if I had to pick the one who underwent the most drastic transformation, it would undoubtedly be Damian right in front of me.
It had been almost half a year since I arrived here. And I had been living with him for about three to four months. It was both a long and short amount of time, but in that span, Damian had changed incredibly.
First, he no longer treated me roughly.
More accurately, he treated me like a fragile, newborn baby animal. Ever since he gained firsthand experience of the fact that 'the human species can break this easily,' his touch had become noticeably gentler.
Considering my entire body was covered in bruises the first time we kissed, his hands were now so gentle he could rival a master craftsman.
Second, just as he learned to be careful with me, this monster had actually learned the concept of 'patience.'
Honestly, just a few months ago, if he had caught me exchanging meaningful glances with Lionel, he would have cornered me right then and there, interrogating or barking at me without caring how awkward it made things.
Yet here he was, exercising self-control and waiting until business hours were completely over before confronting me. It was so commendable and touching that I felt like I should give him an award.
"Shion."
Noticing I was lost in thought, Damian called my name again. He then tapped my cheek to make me look at him, and even that simple gesture was unbelievably gentle.
Right, seeing things like this, more than anything else... the dynamic between Damian and me had shifted.
We worked together, slept together, ate together, and tangled together in bed every night. Under these circumstances, it was simply impossible not to grow attached to him.
Damian's large fingers slowly traced down my cheek. As his calloused fingertips softly stroked my skin, a purr of satisfaction escaped my lips before I could stop it.
"Mmn..."
The languidly slipping sound was exactly like the low, rumbling purr this beast often let out when he was in a good mood.
I flinched at my own noise, but Damian seemed quite pleased by it. His eyes curved into contented half-moons as he let out a low chuckle.
"Feels good?"
"...I don't know. More importantly, hands off. You're distracting me."
I snapped out of sheer embarrassment, but Damian ignored me completely, instead lightly tilting my chin up. Seeing the obsessive, simmering affection swirling in his crimson eyes made me tremble instinctively.
Beast-like habits weren't the only thing he had infected me with.
Exactly.
This monster and I had ruthlessly invaded each other's boundaries, growing undeniably close.
What had started with him clinging to me to figure out the 'seduction' I had allegedly cast on him had evolved to the point where our personalities and habits were mirroring each other.
Because of that, Damian had undoubtedly noticed that I had been spacing out and lost in thought far more frequently ever since I met with Geoffrey.
I placed my hand over his as he slowly caressed my jaw, and carefully broached the subject.
"Damian, do you remember what I mentioned before?"
As Damian tilted his head, his dark crimson hair slid lazily over his shoulder. Meeting his questioning gaze, I realized I had brought it up too abruptly, skipping over any proper context.
"So, you know how I mentioned before that I might leave the inn someday? Well, I've saved up enough money to live comfortably now, and I’ve been working non-stop without a single break... so I was thinking maybe it's time I took a little rest."
I then quickly tacked on with an awkward chuckle.
"Ah, well, not that I've been running this place that long, anyway."
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