Scroll 58: My Most Gorgeous Second Girlfriend

Alaster stared down at the bottom of his mug. The mead was all gone, but if he let Syrus keep shooting his mouth off, his reputation in this town would end up somewhere on par with an ex-convict elf. Fortunately, the tank seemed to pick up on his subtle gestures and decided to rein it in.

Jess smiled brightly, while the waitress, Inary, offered both men a warm look.

"So you're that dangerous?" Jess asked.

The dancer slid her hand smoothly over Alaster's arm. He looked into her eyes, taking in the warmth of her voice—a tone just as sweet and suggestive as the one she had been using with Syrus moments ago.

"How terrifying... We should report him to the chief," Inary added playfully.

She reached out, grabbing the bottle of rum to refill the empty mugs on the table. Alaster felt a sudden shadow of apprehension, a faint chill creeping up the back of his neck. With gentle courtesy, he slipped out of Jess's light grip.

"Ahem... I don't think reporting me will do much good."

"There must be a reward of some kind," Jess teased. "Sorry, handsome, but I could really use the money."

Syrus chimed in, his voice dropping to a near-whisper:

"I don't think that fool is going to pay much attention to you."

The tank raised his mug in a distant toast toward the back of the establishment. Alaster followed his gaze and picked out Norde, the village chief, sitting at a far table, returning the gesture with his own mug held high.

Asleep? the elf thought, remembering Cladis's words. I doubt his wife knows he's here... Oh well, far be it from me to judge. He didn't see me with these girls, and I didn't see him playing cards with his buddies—that's the unspoken deal.

Alaster pulled his eyes away from Norde's table and returned his attention to Jess. He took in her thick black hair and the light eyes peeking out from behind her bangs.

I need to stop staring at her. I have to remember why I'm here: I need to figure out how this world works. These girls aren't looking for friendship—they're just an obstacle.

Alaster already had his cover story mapped out to brush off any ignorance about the realm: he would simply say he was a Neovan and that where he grew up, customs were entirely different. If anyone pried further, he would act like he preferred not to dwell on a complicated past. I'm not comfortable lying, but it's the most practical tool I have right now.

"Actually," Alaster said, looking around at the group, "the guard isn't looking for me anymore. The only reason I'm keeping my hair dark is simply because I haven't found a way to turn it back to its natural color."

He took a sip of the rum. The taste was sharp but manageable, though the alcohol was slowly starting to creep up on him.

"Do you think this color suits me?" he asked with a faint smile.

"And what's your real color?" Inary inquired with curiosity.

"Somewhere between white and an extremely light blue... Like the color of Jess's eyes," Alaster replied.

The remark slipped out effortlessly, fueled by the rum the waitress kept pouring. In that instant, the elf felt that same cold gust across his back again. He spun around quickly, but the place was calm and there wasn't any draft.

Hearing the comparison, Jess felt a sudden jolt that went far beyond simple flattery. She looked at the elf's expression and the intensity in his gaze. No way! the dancer thought, her heart doing a quick flip. Is this elf actually falling for my charm? For a split second, she pictured leaning in toward his lips, but she covered the impulse by looking away toward Inary, who was already topping off the mugs at the table.

I'm blurting things out without thinking, Alaster scolded himself internally, unable to tear his eyes away from Jess, who looked thoroughly pleased by the attention. Don't these girls have to work?

As if answering his thought, a short, mature woman approached the table with a pleasant smile.

"Good evening, gentlemen. Apologies for the interruption."

"Not a problem at all," Alaster answered instantly.

"We appreciate the complimentary bottle," Syrus added after taking a taste of the liquor.

"A small gesture for the men who helped protect the town," the woman replied with a smile. "I just came to remind Inary and Jess that the next show is about to start."

She briefly introduced herself as RedQueen, the establishment's manager. She told them they could reach out to her if they needed anything and quickly stepped away to attend to other business with the staff.

Both Jess and Inary immediately stood up.

"Boys, don't miss the dance. The Fairies of the Southern Lake are famous for our work," Jess said, turning gracefully.

She took a few steps away from the table before turning her head slightly:

"If you leave without saying goodbye, I'm going to be mad."

Inary took in the scene quickly. I'm not letting her hog all the attention, she thought with determination. The waitress leaned down close to Alaster's ear and whispered:

"There's a room on the third floor, to the left of the stairs. I'll be off in twenty minutes, right after the performance. If you feel like relaxing—you look a bit dizzy..."

The offer was crystal clear. Alaster, whose head was indeed feeling heavy from the alcohol, stared at her figure for a brief second.

"I'll think about it," he answered in a low voice.

He brushed his hand for a moment near Inary's leg through the fabric of her dress before pulling it back. The waitress arched her eyebrows at the gesture, bit her lower lip, and quickly walked off with a wink.

The elf glanced around as he felt that icy sensation hit him once more. What is this?

Syrus raised an eyebrow with amusement.

"Well, well... You don't waste any time, do you?"

"Are you really going to start lecturing me?" Alaster replied, pushing his drink aside to pull a tray of bread rolls closer.

"I'm not lecturing you on anything, I'm just surprised. I thought elves were built differently—not quite so interested in that sort of thing."

Alaster paused for a moment. He realized this was his chance to clear up the doubts he'd been too embarrassed to ask Jinneth or Mila about, and he felt comfortable enough around Syrus.

"Of course we're interested—I have a girlfriend for a reason... Hey, Syrus," Alaster said, lowering his voice, "there are things about this place I don't fully understand. Maybe you can shed some light on it."

"You got serious all of a sudden," the tank remarked before taking another swig. "Let's hear it."

"Look... I don't really get how human relationships work around here. As a Neovan, all of this feels foreign to me, and I'm worried about making a mistake now that I'm with someone."

Syrus stared at him for a few seconds, brow furrowed, before responding:

"I guess that's understandable. Elves aren't usually very open about those things. What exactly is confusing you?"

Alaster took a moment to gather his thoughts, trying to choose his words carefully so he wouldn't start any rumors about Mila around the guild.

"Look... I have my girlfriend, but then I met another woman. After the two of them talked to each other, my girlfriend just straight up gave me permission to be with the other girl. On top of that, the second woman gave my girlfriend gold. I don't understand the dynamic."

Syrus struggled to hold back a laugh at the elf's embarrassed face.

"Hey! I'm not telling you this so you can laugh at me!" Alaster barked, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and drawing looks from the surrounding tables.

Syrus raised his hands calmly.

"Relax, I'm not laughing at you. I just find it funny how dead serious you are about this."

Alaster let go, and the tank straightened his clothes.

"It makes sense if you think about it. Your girlfriend has to give her approval if another woman wants something more than a casual fling. They're not going to discuss it openly with you because it's an awkward situation. As for the gold, they probably have some business deal or shared arrangement, which means they trust each other."

"Ahem... That is pretty strange," Alaster muttered. "Spell it out for me."

"I don't know what else to tell you," Syrus shrugged. "If you're worried about hurting anyone, just keep in mind there are way more women than men in this region. She understands the situation, but that doesn't mean she doesn't care about you. Just don't be disrespectful by acting shameless right in front of her face and you'll be fine."

"Jess seemed to care a lot about your ring," Alaster countered, looking at the object on the table.

Syrus grinned and pointed toward the stage.

"Look, they're starting the dance."

In the distance, the troupe of dancers began their performance to the beat of the drums. They executed fluid, synchronized moves between the establishment's tables. Jess passed right near Alaster, dipping gracefully before spinning away. The show lasted just a few minutes, displaying impressive control over their movements before the dancers withdrew from the center of the floor.

"So? What's the deal with the ring?" Alaster pressed the moment Jess was out of sight.

"It's simple. I'm married, and I don't have the interest or the money to support another wife. The ring shows I'm not looking for major commitments. For a casual thing it doesn't change much, but girls prefer to avoid messy drama."

"Let me borrow it for a second, I don't fully buy it," Alaster said, holding out his hand.

"You're drunk, elf," Syrus chuckled.

Alaster stood up, feeling the floor sway beneath his feet.

"Did you move the table?"

"You are completely plastered," the tank laughed. "What do you want the ring for?"

"I want to test it out for myself," Alaster insisted, tapping Syrus on the shoulder.

Syrus slipped the metal band off and handed it over. The elf put it on his finger. Off in the distance, he spotted Inary giving him a subtle signal before heading up the stairs toward the third floor.

Test the theory first, Alaster thought, his logic clouded by the alcohol. He staggered toward a nearby table where a group of girls were chatting with a young man.

"Good eveninggg..." he slurred.

Taking another step, he tripped on a chair leg and had to grab the edge of the table to keep from falling. The girls let out a giggle. The elf forced himself upright.

"Ladies... I had a question..."

"I accept!" one of them joked.

"Wait, I haven't finished yet," Alaster said with utmost seriousness.

The girls kept laughing, whispering among themselves about the elf's condition. Syrus quickly appeared behind him.

"Sorry about the trouble, I'm taking my friend back."

"No problem at all, he's hilarious," one of the young women answered.

"You can leave him here for five hours," another teased.

"I don't think you'd return him in one piece," Syrus joked back, grabbing Alaster by the shoulders to turn him around.

Alaster wriggled out of his grip.

"Hold on... How do you know this guy isn't dangerous? Look at his face, those eyebrows aren't normal..."

The crowd at the surrounding tables burst out laughing at the comment.

"Come on, Al, they're laughing at you," Syrus said, trying to steer him away.

"They're laughing with me," the elf corrected in a firm but slurred tone. "What I want to know is... If I'm wearing this ring, does that mean I can't look for something genuine? If I fell in love with one of you, would the ring stop that?"

He stared intently at a young woman with dark hair and a round face. Understanding the elf's confusion, the girl answered kindly:

"The ring just shows you're not looking to rush into a heavy commitment. But if two people truly care about each other, they'd just have to put in the effort together for their relationship, wouldn't they?"

"Exactly," Alaster smiled. "You're very sweet."

"Alright, that's enough for tonight," Syrus stepped in, taking a firm hold of him to drag him back to the table.

Fifteen minutes later, Alaster found himself sitting in front of a hot cup of coffee, wondering if elven alcohol tolerance was genuinely this terrible. Off in the distance, the dark-haired girl separated from her friends—who were giggling and egging her on—and walked over to his table.

The elf felt that faint chill on his back again, but ignored it as the girl stopped beside him.

"Are you feeling any better?" she asked politely.

"A bit better, thanks. And sorry about the scene earlier," Alaster replied with a touch of embarrassment.

"Don't worry, it was cute."

"Did you actually understand what I was trying to say?"

"Not really, but you seemed really stressed about it, so I gave it my best answer," she smiled.

"I appreciate it. You nailed the answer."

Alaster stood up. Syrus had stepped away to the bathroom, and he remembered Inary's instructions regarding the third floor. He knew he needed to make a sensible choice: just a few hours ago he had turned down a serious proposal from Deinderatrix, so it made no sense to chase after a fling now.

He took a couple of steps, then paused and turned back to the girl.

"Did you need anything else?"

Blushing slightly, the girl looked up at him shyly.

"I just wanted to ask... Would you like to be my boyfriend?"

Alaster looked at her closely. She was a pleasant-looking girl, likely around twenty years old. Remembering the local male-to-female ratio and acting on a sudden whim, he smiled back:

"Sure. You're very cute."