For dinner I decided on a very ordinary modern Japanese meal, with rice and miso soup as the mainstays.
I discussed meals with Princess Pricha; if we're going to live in this world for a while, we agreed they should get used to local customs and foods. Of course, I won't force anything they can't stomach, but I'm grateful they're willing to try.
"Hero, shall I help?"
Around sunset, as I was preparing dinner, Sanctina came into the kitchen.
"I'm okay. I know it's hard to relax, but try watching TV. It might be boring, but it'll help you get a feel for this world."
"…All right."
She really couldn't settle down—understandable in an unfamiliar place. I spent about three years in their world, but she was the type who focused on carrying out her given mission.
Honestly, we never really opened up to each other in private.
In the first place, the four of us almost never operated alone; we were always surrounded by guards, the princess's maids, Sanctina's clergy attendants, and so on.
It wasn't until that final battle—when the Demon Lord created a sealed space and excluded everyone but us—that it became just the four of us.
So we didn't have many personal talks, and it wasn't some storybook quest where a small party traveled, helping each other, to defeat the Demon Lord.
I haven't worked in an office, but it felt closer to workplace relationships—companions together for the job.
Anyway, lots happened over there, but they looked out for me and showed concern for me being out of my element. Now it's my turn.
They need an environment where they can live calmly. While I was thinking that, Filia—who'd gone to check on the Demon Lord—came into the kitchen.
"Filia, how's the Demon Lord?"
"She's incredible. I didn't realize she had that level of technique…"
It was the first time I'd seen Filia look even a little shaken—she's usually unflappable.
That wasn't the update I was asking for, though. Maybe she's tired too, if she missed that.
"Do you think you can get back home?"
"…That depends on the Demon Lord."
"There's got to be a way. I made it here, didn't I? Until then, try to take it easy."
Just having hope of returning means a lot. I know that firsthand.
All right, the food's ready. Let's call the Demon Lord too and eat together. We don't have to be chummy, but sharing meals should at least keep communication going.
Side:Filia
When the humans and demons started another war, we elves were exasperated.
Humans have short lifespans and grow in number quickly, so generations turn over fast; lessons from the past don't stick, and they repeat the same mistakes.
Demons, with their long lives, nurse old grudges and grievances forever, so they take the bait of human provocation.
From our perspective, both sides were simply… troublesome.
"My, dinner is unusual."
Of all of us, the Demon Lord is accepting our situation the most readily. She was already trying to cast off the title of Demon Lord. I have my thoughts about that—but I also understand.
She never wanted the throne and always hated conflict.
"These are grains of rice."
The food jogged a memory. The Hero probably doesn't know it, but there's a related plant in our world too.
The way it's eaten is different, though…
It seems to be boiled without seasoning. The taste… not bad. Like cooking barley in a little water. Is it eaten as a substitute for bread?
The rice itself isn't seasoned, but when eaten together with the dishes, the rice's sweetness pairs well.
Diet tells you a land's history and climate. It's fascinating.
"How is it? If it doesn't suit you, I have bread."
The Hero watched us with quiet worry.
He's surprisingly attentive to details. Back there he was always so reserved I never saw that side of him. Perhaps he was holding a lot in.
"We're fine. These 'chopsticks' just take some getting used to."
"Yes—delicious. It's a first for me, but I like it."
Pricha and Sanctina, given the situation, weren't about to make picky demands—and they noticed the Hero's concern, too.
The Demon Lord, meanwhile, handled the unfamiliar chopsticks with courtly grace, as if she'd always used them. It was… unsettling.
How far will she go, overrunning all of our expectations?
"Rice and miso soup, hm? This is my first time. A few generations ago, a Hero asked to eat this meal before the decisive battle with the Demon Lord of that time."
"Why would demons know that!?"
At that offhand remark, Pricha snapped, and the mood soured again.
She has ideals, but she's not gifted at political maneuvering—which, I hear, is part of why her father the king favored her. Even between parent and child, trust falls to rank and politics—that's the worst of human royalty.
"Who can say? Odd, isn't it? Don't humans crave information about other worlds? Or perhaps…"
The Demon Lord parried Pricha's glare, and even I was shocked. From her tone, it seems the upper echelons—humans, demons, the church—all know classified facts about Heroes and keep them hidden.
Which means our own elven elders likely know as well. So I've been kept in the dark on the crucial points.
Disposable? That wasn't in the briefing, Elder.
"Um… it's a rare chance to share a meal. Let's be grateful and enjoy it."
I never imagined Sanctina would be the one to speak up…
"Heehee—sorry, Saint. You're right. My fault."
"I'm sorry too, Sanctina."
Somehow Sanctina smoothed things over between the Demon Lord and Pricha. She's not the steely type, but perhaps she's the calmest of us right now.
It may be that her title and talents as a saint are the real thing.
"As an apology, I'll tell you about what I mentioned. With each accession, a Demon Lord inherits various secret traditions. Information on past Heroes is one of them. I've heard the demon tribe is best at gathering information and preserving records."
"…I see. I'm sorry for raising my voice."
With the Hero and Sanctina worrying about us, Pricha and the Demon Lord both admitted fault and took a step back. Perhaps we finally laid the foundation for a new relationship.
Maybe we can live here. Nothing is more dangerous than suspicion curdling into conflict.